Where is the sick untended, or in prison, and they visited him not? The hungry is fed, and the thirsty satisfied, till ability set limits to the will, And those who did it unto them, have done it unto God! For human benevolence is large, though many matters dwarf it, Prudence, ignorance, imposture, and the straitenings of circumstance and time. And if to the body, so to the mind, the mass of men are generous: Be sure the fault is thine, as pride, or shallowness, or vanity, Therefore examine thy state, O self-accounted martyr of Neglect, OF CONTENTMENT. GODLINESS with Contentment,-these be the pillars of felicity, The body craveth meats, and the spirit is athirst for peacefulness; Surfeit vaulteth over pleasure, to light upon the hither side of pain; If wisdom stand not nigh to moderate the wishes: For covetousness never had enough, but moaneth at its wants for ever, And rich men have commonly more need to be taught contentment than the poor. That hungry chasm in their market-place gapeth still unsatisfied, Behold Independence in his rags, all too easily contented, I have seen many rich, burdened with the fear of poverty; I have seen many poor, buoyed with all the carelessness of wealth; For the rich had the spirit of a pauper, and the moneyless a liberal heart; The first enjoyeth not for having, and the latter hath nothing but enjoy ment. None is poor but the mean in mind, the timorous, the weak, and unbelieving; None is wealthy but the affluent in soul, who is satisfied and floweth over. The poor-rich is attenuate for fears, the rich-poor is fattened upon hopes; Cheerfulness is one, man's welcome, and the other warneth from him by his gloom. Many poor have the pleasures of the rich, even in their own possessions; And many rich miss the poor man's comforts, and yet feel all his cares. Liberty is affluence, and the Helots of anxiety never can be counted weal thy; But he that is disenthralled from fear, goeth for the time a king; He is royal, great, and opulent, living free of fortune, And looking on the world as owner of its good, the Maker's child and heir: Whereas the covetous is slavish, a very Midas in his avarice. Full of dismal dreams, and starved amongst his treasures: The ceaseless spur of discontent goaded him with instant apprehension, And his thirst for gold could never be quenched, for he drank with the throat of Crassus. (15) Vanity and dreary disappointment, care, and weariness and envy; And the statesman climbing there, forgetful of his patriot intentions, A black and bitter frown is stamped upon the forehead of Ambition, There was in Tyre a merchant, the favourite child of fortune, And on a day, a day of dread, in the heat of inordinate ambition, sions, The chance hit him, he had speculated ill,-and men began to whisper ;- . And there in humility, he thought,-he resolved, and promptly acted: From the wreck of all his splendours, from the dregs of the goblet of afflu ence, He saved with management a morsel and a drop, for his daily cup and platter: And lo, that little was enough, and in enough was competence: His cares were gone, he slept by night, and lived at peace by day: He lived to be thankful in a cottage that he had lost a palace: For he found in his abasement, what he vainly had sought in high estate, Both mind and body well at ease, though robed in the russet of the lowly. Once more; a certain priest, happy in his high vocation, With faith, and hope, and charity, well served his village altar; As men count riches, he was poor; but great were his treasures in heaven, And great his joys on earth, for God's sake doing good: He had few cares and many consolations, one of the welcome every where ; The labourer accounted him his friend, and magnates did him honour at their table: With a large heart and little means he still made many grateful, And felt as the centre of a circle, of comfort, calmness, and content. The neighbouring town had a pulpit to be filled; hotly did he canvass and won it: Now was he popular and courted, and listened to the spell of admiration, Man for God, gold for good, this was his miserable bargain. The village church, its humble flock, and humbler parish priest, Zeal, devotion, and approving heaven, his books, and simple life, His little farm and flower-beds,-his recreative rambles with a friend, And haply at the eventide the leaping trouts, to help their humble fare,— Sickened of style, and ostentation, and the dissipative fashions of society, God: For he found that the praises of men, and all that gold can give, OF LIFE. A CHILD was playing in a garden, a merry little child, Bounding with triumphant health, and full of happy fancies; His kite was floating in the sunshine,—but he tied the string to a twig, And ran among the roses to catch a new-born butterfly; His horn-book lay upon a bank, but the pretty truant hid it, Buried up in gathered grass, and moss, and sweet wild-thyme; He launched a paper boat upon the fountain, then wayward turned aside, To twine some vagrant jessamines about the dripping marble: So, in various pastime, shadowing the schemes of manhood, That curly-headed boy consumed the golden hours: And I blessed his glowing face, envying the merry little child, As he shouted with the ecstasy of being, clapping his hands for joyfulness: For I said, Surely, O Life, thy name is happiness and hope, Thy days are bright, thy flowers are sweet, and pleasure the condition of thy gift. A youth was walking in the moonlight, walking not alone, For a fair and gentle maid leant on his trembling arm : Their whispering was still of beauty, and the light of love was in their eyes, Their twin young hearts had not a thought unvowed to love and beauty: |