A strict decorum strikes the enchanted gaze, He rests well pleased, when, as a brother, held. Enjoy the luxury of doing good. And TO DO GOOD to alleviate mortal pain The third constituent in this threefold chain In order claims analysis: - And hereWhat is it, that in man we most revere? What, but true merit, and the gifts of mind, Can mark distinction in the human kind? MIND is the acknowledged standard of the man; — 'Tis wisdom, then, the mental powers to scan. To those, who deepest drink of wisdom's lore, We first appeal; from these expect the more. Where much is given, we there may much require, And love fraternal fans the generous fire. Here Charity, on systematic plan, Dispenses gifts to assuage the ills of man. The good Odd-Fellows, with their treasured gains, The SICK they VISIT,- SUCCOR the DISTRESSED; And countless human miseries mitigate. They kindly wipe the tear from Sorrow's eye; And feel ·to enjoy a blessing, is, to bless! A brother's household when stern death invades, And with their Christian light dispel the funeral gloom! PHILADELPHIA, August 21, 1845. 66 BLESSED. N. LANESFORD FOSTER. 1 FUGITIVE STANZAS. BY P. SQUIRES. THE world is glad and gay without: I hear From many a palace grand, where pleasures cloy, And wealth's proud heirs their wasting hour employ In listless luxury, or thoughtless cheer. Yon spacious hall sends forth a dazzling ray, Obsequiously, their pampered master's call: Oh, little think they of the woes that wait And yet their gilded joys I envy not, Nor all that honor, wealth, and fame, can give; If sweet contentment may but be my lot, I have a wealth which princes can not give A wealth for which alone 't is meet to live, When years increase, and childhood is forgot. Give me this boon, and when the hand of Time Than those of earth, and all the thoughts that warm The heart of love, shall cheer me through the storm With hopes of joys more heavenly and divine. NEW YORK, June, 1846. A SEASIDE SABBATH. A SABBATH in summer-how glorious the morning; Look abroad, thou repiner! and say if thy vision Could e'er with the glory around thee compare. Away in the orient, rolling and swelling, The moon-loving billows of Neptune's domain, From their strife with the whirlwind (of night-tempest telling), Are sinking to calmness and quiet again. The crest of each wave, as in snow-foam it dashes, Look out to the landward, thy home and dominion, |