"Not to myself alone," The heavy-laden bee doth murmuring hum, — For man, for man the luscious food I pile Content if he repay my ceaseless toil "Not to myself alone," The soaring bird with lusty pinion sings,- I bid the hymnless churl my anthem learn, I call the worldling from his dross to turn, "Not to myself alone," The streamlet whispers on its pebbly way,- I sweeten and refresh the languid air "Not to thyself alone!" O! man, forget not thou, earth's honored priest, Its tongue, its soul, its life, its pulse, its heart. In earth's great chorus to sustain thy part. Chiefest of guests at Love's ungrudging feast, Live to thy neighbor, live unto thy God,- BRUTUS ON THE DEATH OF CÆSAR. ROMANS, Countrymen, and lovers! Hear me for my cause; and be silent that you may hear. Believe me for mine honor; and have respect to mine honor, that you may believe. Censure me in your wisdom, and awake your senses that you may the better judge. If there be any in this assembly, — any dear friend of Cæsar's, to him I say, that Brutus' love to Cæsar was not less than his. If, then, that friend demand why Brutus rose against Cæsar, this is my answer: Not that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather Cæsar were living, and die all slaves, than that Cæsar were dead, to live all freemen? As Cæsar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; as he was valiant, I honor him; but as he was ambitious, I slew him! There are tears for his love; joy for his fortune; honor for his valor; and death for his ambition! SHAKSPEARE. THE WAY TO BE HAPPY. A HERMIT there was, who lived in a grot, And this answer he gave, when I asked him to tell: PERILS OF THE SEA. THE brave ship lay at anchor in the harbor. Her yards were unbraced, and her sails hung loosely against the mast, for the day was calm and lovely. Her port-holes were unclosed, and her guns showed their dark mouths in a fearful row. That was the last time I saw the good ship Terrible. She sailed the next day for China, and was never heard of more. What was the fate of that noble vessel and her gallant crew? Alas! we can only guess. Overtaken by some dreadful storm, did she founder and sink? Or, was she borne against some iceberg that toppled and fell upon her deck, carrying ruin and dismay? Or, did she take fire, and burn to the water's edge? It is conjecture all ! Many are the perils of the poor sailor. Do we ever think how much we owe him? Live comfortably we can not, live at all, perhaps, we can not, without seamen will expose themselves for us, risk themselves for us, and, alas! often, very often, drown— drown in our service drown and leave widows and orphans destitute. To beg with me, to plead with me, for these destitute ones, there comes from many a place where seamen have died a call, a prayer, a beseeching voice; a cry from the coast of Guinea, where there is fever evermore; a cry from Arctic seas, where icebergs are death; a cry from coral reefs, that ships are wrecked on horribly; a cry from mid ocean, where many a sailor drops into a sudden grave! They ask your help, your charity for the widows and orphans of those who have gone down to the sea have gone down to the sea in ships. THE MISER AND THE MOUSE. A MISER, traversing his house, TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK BY COWPER. LOVE OF COUNTRY. BREATHES there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own my native land ? Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, High though his titles, proud his name, SIR WALTER SCOTT. THE CALL OF SAMUEL. 1 Sam. 3: 1-10. IN Israel's fane, by silent night, A voice unknown the stillness broke: Thus early called to serve his God, And all the chosen tribes were blessed. Speak, Lord! and, from our earliest days, Thy wakening voice hath reached our ear; CAWOOD. |