Works

'Tis morning, and the meadows yet,
Are wet with gracious drops of dew.
Each blade of grass, and flow'r, is set
With sparkling gems of richest hue.
The sun, with rising glory, sheds...

When men of gentle lives depart,
They leave behind no brilliant story
Of fam'd exploits, to make men start
In wonder at their dazzling glory.

The scholar's light, religion's beams,...

One day I sat me down to write,
And thought with might and main,
But neither subject fit, nor thoughts,
Came to my barren brain.

And then I laid my pen aside,
With sad, despairing mind,...

'Tis not with glad fruition crown'd,
We always feel our greatest joy;
For pleasure often dwells around
The heart that hopes, and knows no cloy.

We wait, we watch, we think, we plan...

There are mem'ries glad of the old school-house,
Which throng around me still;
And voices spoke in my youthful days,
My ears with music fill.

Those youthful voices I seem to hear,...

A man is not what oft he seems,
On this terrestrial sphere,
No pow'r to wield, no honor'd place,
Oft curb his spirit here.

He knows not what within him lies,
Until his pow'rs be tried,...

Where craggy hills round Madoc rise,
With scenic grandeur bold,
Where frowning rocks, from wooded heights,
Look down so stern and cold,

On peaceful vales, and silent lakes,...

With patient toil, from day to day,
The printed page he scann'd,
The page of learned book, or sheet
With news from foreign land.

And people thought him wond'rous wise,
And he himself was vain...

Oh, the truant boy to the woods has gone,
And you ne'er, alas, can find him,
He's strapp'd his empty school bag on,
For his books are left behind him.

He's gone to shake the beechnuts down...

This earth's a mystery profound,
Its movements, make, and changes all -
A mystery which none can sound,
Who dwell upon the whirling ball.

And deeper far than all the rest,...

The land of poetry and mirth,
Of orators and statesmen, too,
To one more genial, ne'er gave birth,
Than when, gay Moore, it brought forth you.

The land of Goldsmith, Wolfe and Burke,...

G o on your way, my youthful friend,
E arth's joys and woes to feel,
O 'er rough and smooth, your course will tend,
R ight on, thro' woe and weal,
G ird up yourself then, for the fight,...

Youth is the time when all is bright;
The mind is free from care;
No thoughts of aught, save present joys,
Can find an entrance there.

And, if a thought of future years...

Memories of happy school-days,
In which we view the years gone by,
Long they last, and long they cheer us -
Live well the moments as they fly,
Your youth is passing swiftly by.
...