A common mind will soon depart from the dull companionship of wisdom; Come, I will show thee a friend; I will paint one worthy of thy trust: from thee; And his forbearance toward thee silently teacheth thee to be considerate unto him. He despiseth not courtesy of manner, nor neglecteth the decencies of life: For as an ill example strengtheneth the hands of the wicked, So to put forward thy guilt is a secret poison to thy friend: For the evil in his nature is comforted, and he warreth more weakly against it, If he find that the friend whom he honoureth, is a man more sinful than himself. I hear the communing of friends; ye speak out the fullness of your souls, And being but men, as men, ye own to all the sympathies of manhood: (26) Confidence openeth the lips, indulgence beameth from the eye, The tongue loveth not boasting, the heart is made glad with kindness: And one standeth not as on a hill, beckoning to the other to follow, But toil up ye hand in hand, and carry each other's burdens. Ye commune of hopes and aspirations, the fervent breathings of the heart, Choose thy friend discreetly, and see thou consider his station, For the graduated scale of ranks accordeth with the ordinance of heaven: If a low companion ripen to a friend, in the full sunshine of thy confidence, Know, that for old age thou hast heaped up sorrow: For thou sinkest to that level, and thy kin shall scorn thee. Yea, and the menial thou hast pampered haply shall neglect thee in thy death: And if thou reachest up to high estates, thinking to herd with princes, What art thou but a footstool, though so near a throne ? O rush among the lilies, be taught thou art a weed; O brier among the cedars, hot contempt shall burn thee. For only friendship among men is the true republic, Where all have equality of service, and all have freedom of command. And yet, if thou wilt take my judgment, be shy of too much openness with any, Lest thou repent hereafter, should he turn and rend thee: For many an apostate friend hath abused unguarded confidence, And bent to selfish ends the secret of the soul. Absence strengtheneth friendship, where the last recollections were kindly; selfish ; Worldliness, and apathy, and pride, leave not many that are worthy : For as thistle-down flieth abroad, and casteth its anchor in the soil, So philanthropy yearneth for a heart, where it may take root and blossom. Yet I hear the child of sensibility moaning at the wintry cold, He grieveth, and hath deep reasons; for falsehood hath wronged his trust, suspicion. For, alas, how few be friends, of whom charity hath hoped well! And the world, that corrupteth all good, hath wronged that sacred name, There be few, O child of sensibility, who deserve to have thy confidence ; And gladly seek they such as thou art, for seldom find they the occasion: ship, Yet verily is the man a marvel whom truth can write a friend. OF LOVE. THERE is a fragrant blossom, that maketh glad the garden of the heart: Hope; Its companions are gentle flowers, and the brier withereth by its side. The violet rejoiced beneath it, the rose stooped down and kissed it; Hath a seducer known it? Can an adulterer perceive it? Longing for another's happiness, yet often destroying its own; Chaste, and looking up to God, as the fountain of tenderness and joy; Lasting, and knowing not change-it walketh with Truth and Sincerity. Love-what a volume in a word, an ocean in a tear, Love is a sweet idolatry, enslaving all the soul, A mighty spiritual force, warring with the dullness of matter, An angel-mind breathed into a mortal, though fallen, yet how beautiful! All the devotion of the heart in all its depth and grandeur. Behold that pale geranium, pent within the cottage window; How yearningly it stretcheth to the light its sickly long-stalked leaves, How it straineth upward to the sun, coveting his sweet influences, How real a living sacrifice to the God of all its worship! Such is the soul that loveth; and so the rose-tree of affection Its every blushing petal basketh in their light, And all its gladness, all its life, is hanging on their love. If the love of the heart is blighted, it buddeth not again; If that pleasant song is forgotten, it is to be learnt no more : Yet often will thought look back, and weep over early affection; And the dim notes of that pleasant song will be heard as a reproachful spirit, Moaning in Æolian strains over the desert of the heart, Where the hot siroccos of the world have withered its one oasis. OF MARRIAGE. SEEK a good wife of thy God, for she is the best gift of his providence; Yet ask not in bold confidence that which he hath not promised. Thou knowest not his good-will:-be thy prayer then submissive there unto; And leave thy petition to his mercy, assured that he will deal well with thee. If thou art to have a wife of thy youth, she is now living on the earth; Therefore think of her, and pray for her weal; yea, though thou hast not seen her. They that love early become like-minded, and the tempter touches them not: They grow up leaning on each other, as the olive and vine. Youth longeth for a kindred spirit, and yearneth for a heart that can commune with his own; He meditateth night and day, doting on the image of his fancy. Take heed that what charmeth thee is real, nor springeth of thine own imagination; And suffer not trifles to win thy love; for a wife is thine unto death. The harp and the voice thrill thee,-sound may may enchant thine ear, But consider thou, the hand will wither, and the sweet notes turn to dis cord: The eye, so brilliant at even, may be red with sorrow in the morning; And the sylph-like form of elegance must writhe in the crampings of pain. ( happy lot, and hallowed, even as the joy of angels, Where the golden chain of godliness is entwined with the roses of love: But beware, thou seem not to be holy, to win favour in the eyes of a crea ture, |