I Grieve For Life's Bright Promise, Just

It Is Said To Be The Manner Of Hypochondriacs To Change Often Their Physician.

Difficulty Is The Nurse Of Greatness.

All That Tread, The Globe Are But A Handful To The Tribes, That Slumber In Its Bosom.

When April Winds Grew Soft, The Maple Burst Into A Flush Of Scarlet Flowers. The Tulip Tree, High Up, Opened In Airs Of June Her Multitude Of Golden Chalices To Humming-birds And Silken-wing'd Insects Of The Sky.

Lay Down The Axe; Fling By The Spade; Leave In Its Track The Toiling Plough; The Rifle And The Bayonet-blade For Arms Like Yours Were Fitter Now; And Let The Hands That Ply The Pen Quit The Light Task, And Learn To Wield The Horseman's Crooked Brand, And Rein The Charger On The Battle-field.