SHAKESPEARE.

XVI

LIFE LESSONS

_Life_

Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time;--

Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait.

HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.

_From the "Psalm of Life."_

_In a Child's Alb.u.m_

Small service is true service while it lasts; Of humblest friends, bright creature! scorn not one; The Daisy, by the shadow that it casts, Protects the lingering dew-drop from the sun.

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

_To-Day_

So here hath been dawning Another blue day: Think, wilt thou let it Slip useless away.

Out of Eternity This new day was born; Into Eternity, At night, will return.

Behold it aforetime No eye ever did; So soon it for ever From all eyes is hid.

Here hath been dawning Another blue day: Think, wilt thou let it Slip useless away.

THOMAS CARLYLE.

_The n.o.ble Nature_

It is not growing like a tree In bulk doth make Man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere: A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night,-- It was the plant and flower of Light: In small proportions we just beauties see, And in short measures life may perfect be.

BEN JONSON.

_Forbearance_

Hast thou named all the birds without a gun?

Loved the wood-rose, and left it on its stalk?

At rich men's tables eaten bread and pulse?

Unarmed, faced danger with a heart of trust?

And loved so well a high behavior, In man or maid, that thou from speech refrained, n.o.bility more n.o.bly to repay?

O, be my friend, and teach me to be thine!

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

_The Chambered Nautilus_

This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main,-- The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings, And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.

Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl; Wrecked is the ship of pearl!

And every chambered cell, Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell, As the frail tenant shaped his growing sh.e.l.l, Before thee lies revealed,-- Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed!

Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his l.u.s.trous coil; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.

Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap, forlorn!

From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn!

While on mine ear it rings, Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings:--

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll!

Leave thy low-vaulted past!

Let each new temple, n.o.bler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown sh.e.l.l by life's unresting sea!

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

_Duty_

So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is G.o.d to man; When Duty whispers low "Thou must,"

The youth replies, "I can."

RALPH WALDO EMERSON.

_On His Blindness_

When I consider how my light is spent Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, And that one Talent which is death to hide, Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent To serve therewith my Maker, and present My true account, lest he returning chide,-- Doth G.o.d exact day-labor, light denied, I fondly ask:--But Patience, to prevent That murmur, soon replies, "G.o.d doth not need Either man's work or his own gifts; who best Bear his mild yoke, they serve Him best: His State Is Kingly; thousands at his bidding speed, And post o'er Land and Ocean without rest:-- They also serve who only stand and wait."

JOHN MILTON.

_Sir Launfal and the Leper_