Chink ere you Speak. THINK ere you speak, for a word lightly spoken Oft wakens a pang which has slumbered for years; And memory's repose, when once it is broken, May turn a sweet smile into sadness and tears. No pleasure can then chase the gloom from the mind, Or recall the sweet smile which has played on the cheek; With the heart's deepest sorrow that word may be twined: Then strike not the chord, but think ere you speak. 5 Passing Away. CHARLES WEST THOMSON. "I am wearing away to the land of the leal." I AM passing away—I am passing away— The leaves fall around, -the grass fades on the ground The flowers of the summer can nowhere be found; gone; The fire burneth low which I cannot re-illume; Youth has vanished, I know, and has taken its bloom; PASSING AWAY. I am passing away—I am passing away— 51 They tell me of changes that come o'er the scene Where my childhood, my boyhood, my manhood have been; They tell me of some who have wandered afar, To the regions where love lights her love-beaming star; They tell me of others whose wanderings are o'er, The sound of whose footsteps will greet me no more; And the breezes of winter, as round me they swell, Seem to break on my ear like a funeral bell; They sweep o'er the heath with a moan and a sigh, Yes, I hear it-I hear it in all that they say,— I am passing away-I am passing away I feel it—I feel it each swift-rolling day; I am not what I was in the days of my prime, When my heart and my foot were both ready to climb; When, with health in my bosom, and pride on my brow, I pressed in a race which I cannot run now, 52 PASSING AWAY. Ambition is cold, and the hopes that once fled That found pleasure in waking the harp-string alone; They are fitter, far fitter for him who must say, I am passing away-I am passing away: On whose mercy the sinner alone can depend,- ་་ ལྦུ "I have no Influence? WHAT if the little rain should say, “So small a drop as I, Can ne'er refresh those thirsty fields; I'll tarry in the sky?" What if a shining beam of noon, Should in its fountain stay, Because its feeble light alone Doth not each rain-drop help to form The soul-refreshing shower? And every ray of light to warm And beautify the flower? 5* |