Verses — Given to W. C. With a Blank Book, March, 1844
Thy other book to fill, more than eight years
Have paid chance tribute of their smiles and tears;
Many bright strokes portray the varied scene—
Wild sports, sweet ties the days of toil between;
And those related both in mind and blood,
The wise, the true, the lovely, and the good,
Have left their impress here; nor such alone,
But those chance toys that lively feelings own
Weave their gay flourishes ’mid lines sincere,
As ’mid the shadowy thickets bound the deer
Accept a volume where the coming time
Will join, I hope, much reason with the rhyme,
And that the stair his steady feet ascend
May prove a Jacob’s ladder to my friend,
Peopled with angel-shapes of promise bright,
And ending only in the realms of light.
May purity be stamped upon his brow,
Yet leave the manly footsteps free as now;
May generous love glow in his inmost heart,
Truth to its utterance lend the only art;
While more a man, may he be more the child;
More thoughtful be, but the more sweet and mild;
May growing wisdom, mixed with sprightly cheer,
Bless his own breast and those which hold him dear;
Each act be worthy of his worthiest aim,
And love of goodness keep him free from blame,
Without a need straight rules for life to frame.
Good Spirit, teach him what he ought to be,
Best to fulfil his proper destiny,
To serve himself, his fellow-men, and thee.
These pages then will show how Nature wild
Accepts her Master, cherishes her child;
And many flowers, ere eight years more are done,
Shall bless and blossom in the western sun.