XXVI.
Wouldst have another gem In Friendship"s diadem?
Then take this name of mine; Thy light will make it shine.
XXVII.
Thou comest beauty-laden, Thou sprightly little maiden, And dancing everywhere Like sunbeams in the air; And for thy cheery laugh Here is my autograph.
XXVIII.
Something for nothing? No!
A false device.
For all things here below We pay the price.
For even grace we pay, Which is so free; And I have earned to-day A smile from thee.
XXIX.
Friend, make good use of time!
Eternity sublime Is cradled in its use, And Time allows no truce.
The past, with shadowy pall, Is gone beyond recall; To-morrow is not thine; "To-day is all thou hast, Which will not always last: Make thou to-day divine!
x.x.x.
Every hour a duty Brings thee from the courts on high.
Every hour a beauty Waits her transit to the sky; Waits till thou adorn her With the glory of thy heart, Or until thou scorn her-- Shall she with thy sin depart?
x.x.xI.
If you seek in life success, Own yourself the instrument Which the Lord alone can bless, And the world as helper meant; Perseverance as your friend And experience your eyes, Onward press to reach your end, Resting not with any prize; Counting it a joy to lend Unto Him who sanctifies.
x.x.xII.
That day is lost forever, Whose golden sun Beholds through thine endeavor No goodness done.
x.x.xIII.
Count not thy life by heart-throbs; He thinks and lives the most Who with the n.o.blest actions Adorns his chosen post.
x.x.xIV.
The secret of the world, Although in light impearled, No one can e"er discover, No one--except a lover.
To him are given new eyes In self"s true sacrifice.
x.x.xV.
If Love is blind And overlooks small things, He has a mind To apprehend all things.
x.x.xVI.
As Love sails down life"s river He from his gleaming quiver Shoots into every heart A strange and nameless smart.
How is thy heart protected?
The wound is unsuspected!
x.x.xVII.
Dost thou truly love?
Nothing hard can prove, All the stress and rigor Doth thy heart transfigure.
x.x.xVIII.
Love is the key of joy Which keeps the man a boy When outward things decay And all his locks are gray.
x.x.xIX.
Of Heaven below Which is so sweet to know, And Heaven above, The t.i.tle-deed is love.
XL.