But under the vines that clung against my walls, a flock of birds sought shelter just at twilight; And, standing at my casement, I could hear the twitter of their voices and the soft, sweet flutter of their wings. Then over me there fell a sense of peace and calm, and love for all created things, and trust illimitable.
_There are so many little things to make life beautiful_.
SEEKING for happiness we must go slowly; The road leads not down avenues of haste; But often gently winds through by ways lowly, Whose hidden pleasures are serene and chaste Seeking for happiness we must take heed Of simple joys that are not found in speed.
Eager for noon-time’s large effulgent splendour, Too oft we miss the beauty of the dawn, Which tiptoes by us, evanescent, tender, Its pure delights unrecognised till gone. Seeking for happiness we needs must care For all the little things that make life fair.
Dreaming of future pleasures and achievements We must not let to-day starve at our door; Nor wait till after losses and bereavements Before we count the riches in our store. Seeking for happiness we must prize this— Not what will be, or was, but that which _is_.
In simple pathways hand in hand with duty (With faith and love, too, ever at her side), May happiness be met in all her beauty The while we search for her both far and wide. Seeking for happiness we find the way Doing the things we ought to do each day.
SAID Willie to Tom, ‘Let us hie away To the wonderful Island of Endless Play.
It lies off the border of “No School Land,” And abounds with pleasure, I understand.
There boys go swimming whenever they please In a lovely river right under the trees.
And marbles are free, so you need not buy; And kites of all sizes are ready to fly.
We sail down the Isthmus of Idle Delight— We sail and we sail for a day and a night.
And then, if favoured by billows and breeze, We land in the Harbour of Do-as-You-Please.
And there lies the Island of Endless Play, With no one to say to us, Must, or Nay.
Books are not known in that land so fair, Teachers are stoned if they set foot there.
Hurrah for the Island, so glad and free, That is the country for you and me.’
So away went Willie and Tom together On a pleasure boat, in the lazy weather, And they sailed in the teeth of a friendly breeze Right into the harbour of ‘Do-as-You-Please.’ Where boats and tackle and marbles and kites Were waiting them there in this Land of Delights. They dwelt on the Island of Endless Play For five long years; then one sad day A strange, dark ship sailed up to the strand, And ‘Ho! for the voyage to Stupid Land,’ The captain cried, with a terrible noise, As he seized the frightened and struggling boys And threw them into the dark ship’s hold; And off and away sailed the captain bold. They vainly begged him to let them out, He answered only with scoff and shout. ‘Boys that don’t study or work,’ said he, ‘Must sail one day down the Ignorant Sea To Stupid Land by the No-Book Strait, With Captain Time on the Pitiless Fate.’