THOU mayest smile, perchance, as mothers smile On sobbing children, seeing, all the while, How soon will pass away the endless grief, How soon will come the gladness and relief; But if Thou smilest, yet Thy sympathy Measures my grief by what it is to me. And not the less Thy love doth understand, And not the less, with tender, pitying hand, Thou wipest all my tears, and the sad face Doth cherish to a smile in Thy embrace, Until the pain is gone, and Thou dost say,' 'Go now, my child, and work for me to-day.'
It is the secret sympathy,
The silver link, the silken tie, Which heart to heart, and mind to mind, In body and in soul can bind.-Scott.
3266. SYMPATHY: seldom found.
OH! ask not, hope not thou too much Of sympathy below;
Few are the hearts whence one same touch
Bids the sweet fountain flow.-Mrs Hemans.
3267. TACT. Importance of
WHAT boots it thy virtue, What profit thy parts, While one thing thou lackest- The art of all arts? The only credentials,
Passport to success, Opens castle and parlour- Address, man, address. Church, market, and tavern, Bed and board it will sway; It has no to-morrow;
It ends with to-day.-Emerson.
3268. TALENTS: apart from virtue. TALENTS angel-bright,
If wanting worth, are shining instruments, In false ambition's hand, to finish faults Illustrious, and give infamy renown.-Young.
3269. TALENTS. Parable of
THERE went a man from home: and to his neighbours twain
He gave to keep for him two sacks of golden grain. Deep in his cellar one the precious charge conceal'd; And forth the other went and strew'd it in the field. The man returns at last-asks of the first his sack: 'Here, take it; 'tis the same; thou hast it safely back.'
Unharm'd it shows without, but when he would explore
His sack's recesses, corn there finds he now no more: One-half of all therein proves rotten and decay'd, Upon the other half have worms and mildew prey'd. The putrid heap to him in ire he doth return; And of the other asks, 'Where is my sack of corn?' Who answer'd, 'Come with me, behold how it has sped,'
And took and show'd him fields where waving harvests spread.
A NIGHTINGALE, that all day long Had cheer'd the village with his song, Nor yet at eve his note suspended, Nor yet when eventide was ended, Began to feel-as well he might— The keen demands of appetite; When, looking eagerly around, He spied, far off, upon the ground, A something shining in the dark, And knew the glow-worm by his spark ; So, stooping down from hawthorn top, He thought to put him in his crop. The worm, aware of his intent, Harangued him thus, quite eloquent : 'Did you admire my lamp,' quoth he, 'As much as I your minstrelsy, You would abhor to do me wrong, As much as I to spoil your song; For 'twas the self-same power Divine Taught you to sing and me to shine; That you with music, I with light, Might beautify and cheer the night.' The songster heard his short oration, And, warbling out his approbation, Released him, as my story tells,
And found a supper somewhere else.-Cowper.
3271. TALENTS: rightly used.
MAY I remember, that to Thee
Whate'er I have I owe; And back in gratitude from me May all Thy bounties flow.
Thy gifts are only then enjoy'd,
When used as talents lent; Those talents only well employ'd, When in Thy service spent.
UNLESS thou find occasion, hold thy tongue; Thyself or others careless talk may wrong. Denham.
TALKERS are no good doers: be assured We go to use our hands, and not our tongues. Shakespeare.
3274. TALKING. Constrained
THE circle form'd, we sit in silent state, Like figures drawn upon a dial plate;
Yes, ma'am, and no, ma'am, uttered softly, show Every five minutes how the minutes go;
Each individual suffering a constraint, Poetry may, but colours cannot paint; As if in close committee on the sky,: Reports it hot or cold, or wet or dry; And finds a changing clime a happy source Of wise reflection, and well-timed discourse. We next inquire, but softly and by stealth, Like conservators of the public health, Of epidemic throats, if such there are,
And coughs and rheums, and phthisic, and catarrh. That theme exhausted, a wide chasm ensues, Fill'd up at last with interesting news,
Who danced with whom, and who are like to wed, And who is hang'd, and who is brought to bed; But fear to call a more important cause, As if 'twere treason against English laws. The visit paid, with ecstasy we come, As from a seven years' transportation, home, And there resume an unembarrass'd brow, Recovering what we lost, we know not how, The faculties that seem'd reduced to nought, Expression and the privilege of thought.—Couper.
3275. TALKING. Dignity of
SPEECH is the golden harvest that followeth the flowering of thought;
Yet oftentimes runneth it to husk, and the grains be
Speech is reason's brother, and a kingly perogative
That likeneth him to his Maker, who spake, and it was done :
Spirit may mingle with spirit, but sense requireth a symbol;
And speech is the body of a thought, without which it were not seen.- -Tupper.
NOT content With every food of life to nourish man, By kind illusions of the wondering sense, Thou makest all Nature beauty to his eye,
The goodly prospect; and, with inward smiles, Treads the gay verdure of the painted plain; Beholds the azure canopy of heaven, And living lamps that over-arch his head
With more than regal splendour; bends his ears To the full choir of water, air, and earth; Nor heeds the pleasing error of his thought, Nor doubts the painted green or azure arch, Nor questions more the music's mingling sounds, Than space or motion or eternal time; So sweet he feels their influence to attract The fixed soul, to brighten the dull glooms Of care, and make the destined road of life Delightful to his feet. So fables tell,
The adventurous hero, bound on hard exploits, Beholds with glad surprise, by secret spells Of some kind sage, the patron of his toils, A visionary paradise disclosed
Amid the dubious wild: with streams and shades And airy songs, the enchanted landscape smiles, Cheers his long labours, and renews his frame. What then is taste, but these internal powers Active and strong, and feelingly alive To each fine impulse? a discerning sense Of decent and sublime, with quick disgust From things deform'd or disarranged, or gross In species? This, nor gems, nor stores of gold, Nor purple state, nor culture can bestow, But God alone, when first His active hand Imprints the secret bias of the soul.-Akenside.
3277. TEACHER. Dignity of the
THE angel-choir His praise may chant in rapturous songs above,
And though, perchance, thou may'st not call earth's fading laurel thine,
Yet, bright as stars that gem night's brows, thou shalt for ever shine.]
3278. TEACHER. Encouragement for a
Ir may not be your lot to wield The sickle in the crowded field; Not yours to hear on summer eves
The reaper's song 'mid thick'ning sheaves, 'Yet where your duty's task is wrought In unison with God's great thought,' Know thou that there the Master's eye Surveys your work approvingly; Smiles on your task with sweetest grace, Though humble and obscure your place. Faint not; the crown is only won Through patient toil, through duties done.
3279. TEACHER. The Village
BESIDE yon straggling fence that skirts the way, With blossom'd furze unprofitably gay, There, in his noisy mansion, skill'd to rule, The village master taught his little school. A man severe he was, and stern to view,
I knew him well, and every truant knew; Well had the boding tremblers learn'd to trace The day's disasters in his morning face; Full well they laugh'd with counterfeited glee At all his jokes, for many a joke had he; Full well the busy whisper circling round Convey'd the dismal tidings when he frown'd; The love he bore to learning was in fault. Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught, Twas certain he could write and cipher too; The village all declared how much he knew, Lands he could measure, times and tides presage, And e'en the story ran that he could gauge; In arguing, too, the parson own'd his skill, For, e'en though vanquish'd, he could argue still, While words of learned length and thundering sound Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around ;A work unshared by those who dwell amid the joys That one small head could carry all he knew. And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew
And through the universe His power adoringly proclaim;
But they can never win for Christ a child's first ardent love,
Nor whisper in an infant's ear the Saviour's precious name.
O happy teacher! to whose trust this glorious work is given,
'Feed, feed My lambs!' in all its sweet persuasiveness to-day,
This message from a Saviour's lips, O Christian, reaches thee.
Ask not, 'And what shall others do?' but help without delay,
To train the children of your class in peace and purity.
3280. TEACHER. Work of the
SOME lambs are miss'd from Jesus' fold, And straying far from home; 'Mid forests dark, and streams so cold, The little lambs now roam.
Some gems to deck our Master's crown Are buried now on earth;
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