The Youths Coronal | Page 9

done;--?He on his pathway never lags nor dallies;?But is ever up, and on the run.
"Though ever whirling, never growing dizzy;?Motion gives him buoyancy and power.?All who have known him own that he is busy,?Doing much in half a fleeting hour.
"Oh! there is nothing--when our work's before us,--?Like despatch; for, while our time is brief,?Some sweeping blast may suddenly come o'er us,?Lose our place, and turn another leaf!
"Whirlwind, Whirlwind, though you're but a flurry,?And so odd the business you pursue;--?Though you come on, and are off, in such a hurry,?I have caught a hint; and now adieu!"
=The Disobedient Skater Boys=
Said William to George, "It is New-Year's day!?And now for the pond and the merriest play!?So, on with your cap; and away, away,?We'll off for a frolic and slide,?Be quick--be quick, if you would not be chid?For doing what father and mother forbid;?And under your coat let the skates be hid;?Then over the ice we'll glide."
They're up, and they're off; on their run-away feet?They fasten the skates, when, away they fleet,?Far over the pond, and beyond retreat,?Unconscious of danger near.?But lo! the ice is beginning to bend--?It cracks--it cracks--and their feet descend!?To whom can they look as a helper--a friend??Their faces are pale with fear.
In their flight to the pond, they had caught the eye?Of a neighboring peasant, who, lingering nigh,?Aware of their danger, and hearing their cry,?Now hastens to give them aid.?As home they are brought, all dripping and cold,?To all who their piteous plight behold,?The worst of the story is plainly told--?Their parents were disobeyed!
=Winter and Spring=
"Adieu!" Father Winter sadly said?To the world, when about withdrawing,?With his old white wig half off his head,?And his icicle fingers thawing;--
"Adieu! I'm going to the rocks and caves,?And must leave all here behind me;?Or perhaps I shall sink in the Northern waves,?So deep that none can find me."
"Good luck! good luck, to your hoary locks!"?Said the gay young Spring, advancing;?"You may take your rest 'mid the caves and rocks,?While I o'er the earth am dancing.
"But there is not a spot where you have trod.?You hard, old clumsy fellow,--?Not a hill, nor a field, nor a single sod,?But I must make haste to mellow.
"I then shall carpet them o'er with grass,?To look so bright and cheering,?That none will regret having let you pass?Far out of sight and hearing.
"The fountains that you locked up so tight,?When I shall give them a sunning,?Will sparkle and play in my warmth and light,?And the streams set off to running.
"I'll speak in the earth to the palsied root,?That under your reign was sleeping;?I'll teach it the way in the dark to shoot,?And draw out the vine to creeping.
"The boughs that you cased so close in ice,?It was chilling e'en to behold them,?I'll deck all over with buds so nice;?My breath can alone unfold them.
"And when all the trees are with blossoms drest,?The bird, with her song so merry,?Will come to the branches to build her nest,?With a view to the future cherry.
"The earth will show by her loveliness,?The wonders that I am doing;?While the skies look down with a smile, to bless?The way that I'm pursuing!"
Said Winter, "Then I would have you learn,?By me, my gay new-comer,?To push off too, when it comes your turn,?And yield your place to Summer!"
=Tom Tar=
I'll tell you now about Tom Tar,?The sailor stout and bold,?Who o'er the ocean roamed so far,?To countries new and old.
Tom was a man of thousands! he?Would ne'er complain nor frown,?Though high and low the wind and sea?Might toss him up and down.
Amid the waters dark and deep,?He had the happy art,?When all around was storm, to keep?Fair weather in his heart.
Though winds were wild, and waves were rough,?He'd always cast about,?And find within he'd calm enough?To stand the storms without.
"For nought," said Tom, "is ever gained?By sighs for what we lack;?Nor can it mend a vessel strained,?To let our temper crack.
"And sure I am, the worst of storms,?That any man should dread,?Is that which in the bosom forms,?And musters to the head."
Serene, and ever self-possessed,?His mess-mates he would cheer,?And often put their fears to rest,?When dangers gathered near.
If on the rocks the ship was cast,?And surges swept the deck,?Tom Tar was ever found the last?Who would forsake the wreck.
And when his only hat and shoes?The waters plucked from him,?Why, these, he felt, were small to lose,?Could he keep up and swim!
Then through the billows, foam, and spray,?That rose on every hand,?He'd, somehow, always find a way?Of getting safe to land.
The secret was, the fear and love?Of Heaven had filled his soul:?His trust was firm in One above,?Howe'er the seas might roll.
And Tom had sailed to many a shore,?And many a wonder seen:?The stories he could tell would more?Than fill a magazine.
He'd seen mankind in every state,?Almost, that man can know;?But envied not the rich and great,?Nor scorned the