6 Early cultivate Virtue's rich seeds; And you'll find, when you grow an old man, Tho' its never too late to do well, You will wish you had sooner began. XII. THE OLD MAN'S WISH. ALTERED FROM DR. WALTER POPE. IF I live to grow old, for I find I go down, May I live in some village or small country town, May I have a warm house, and may ever my door Be poor: open alike to the rich and the sway, Grow wiser and better as strength wears away, And die, if 't please Heav'n, by a gentle decay. 2 Near a thick shady grove, and a murmuring brook, With the ocean at distance whereon I may look ; With a spacious green plain, without hedge, ditch, or stile, And an easy pad-nag to ride out for awhile. 3 With my Bible, in which may I ev'ry day read, Some author who's sound in his practice and creed, With Cowper, Young, Milton, and two or three more Of the best wits who liv'd in the ages before; May I govern, &c. 4 With mutton prefer'd e'en to ven'son or teal, wine, To drink Church and King whensoever I dine: May I govern, &c. 5 With courage, tho' humble, to meet my last day, And when in the grave may the rich and poor say, "In the morn of his life to his evening's last close His God he still fear'd, and, we trust, meets repose: For he govern'd his passions with absolute sway, Grew wiser and better as strength wore away, XIII. THE OLD MAN'S COMFORTS, AND HOW HE GAINED THEM. BY ROBERT SOUTHEY. 1 "You are old father William," the young man cried, "The few locks that are left you are gray: You are hale, father William, a hearty old man : Now tell me the reason, I pray." 2 "In the days of my youth," father William replied, "I remember'd that youth would fly fast, And abus'd not my health and my vigour at first, That I never might need them at last.” 3 "You are old, father William," the young man cried, "And pleasures with youth pass away, And yet you lament not the days that are gone : Now tell me the reason, I pray." 4 "In the days of my youth," father William replied, "I remember'd that youth could not last; I thought of the future whatever I did, That I never might grieve for the past." 5 "You are old, father William," the young man cried, "And life must be hast'ning away; You are cheerful, and love to converse upon death: Now tell me the reason, I pray." 6 "I am cheerful, young man," father William replied, "Let the cause thy attention engage : In the days of my youth I remember'd my God, And he hath not forgotten my age". XIV. THE AFFECTIONATE HEART. BY JOSEPH COTTLE. 1 THO' the great man, his treasures possessing, I ask-the affectionate friend. 2 Tho' foibles may sometimes o'ertake him, 3 Affection! thou soother of care, Without thee, unfriended we rove ; Thou canst make e'en the desert look fair, And thy voice is the voice of the dove. 4 'Mid the anguish that preys on the breast, And the storms of mortality's state; What shall lull the afflicted to rest, But the joys that on sympathy wait? |