Oh, give me one strain Of that wild harp again, In melody proudly its own, Sweet harp of the days that are gone! Time’s wide-wasting wing Its cold shadow may fling Where the light of the soul hath no part; The sceptre and sword Both decay with their lord, But the throne of the Bard is the heart!
And hearts, while they beat To thy music so sweet, Thy glory shall ever prolong, Land of honour, and beauty, and song! The beauty whose sway Waked the bard’s votive lay, Hath gone to eternity’s shade; While, fresh in its fame, Lives the song to her name, Which the Minstrel immortal hath made!
Proud harp, of wild string, Where thy sweetness did ring O’er the silence of other lands, By the magic of minstrel hands, Too oft did its wail Load with sorrow the gale O’er the land that was made to be free; But, Isle of the West, Raise thy emerald crest, Songs of triumph shall yet ring for thee.
POVERTY.--Poverty has in large cities very different appearances. It is often concealed in splendour, and often in extravagance. It is the care of a very great part of mankind to conceal their indigence from the rest. They support themselves by temporary expedients, and every day is lost in contriving for to-morrow.
When you intend to marry, look first at the heart, next at the mind, then at the person.
Pride is a vice, which pride itself inclines every man to find in others and to overlook in himself.--_Johnson._
If the reader’s attention is now called to it for the first time, he will be rather surprised, we dare say, to find how much humbug is incorporated with our social system. It will rather surprise him to find, as a little reflection will certainly enable him to do, that humbug forms, in fact, the cement by which society is held together; that it pervades every department of it, fills up all its crevices and crannies, and, in truth, permeates its very substance. We, in short, all humbug one another; that’s beyond all manner of doubt.
Don’t we every day write cards and letters beginning with “My dear, or My _very_ dear sir,” and ending with, “Yours sincerely, truly, &c. &c.,” knowing, in our conscience, that in ninety-nine instances out of the hundred--always excepting cases where a man’s _interest_ is concerned--we do not care one straw for these very dear sirs--not one farthing although they were six feet below the ground to-morrow.