m this dull place: I would go further on.'
'There lies,' said Genius, 'up on yonder peak
A Prize, alone, I have not cared to seek.'

Up, up they went--as swift, as sure as Time,
They seemed to soar: (in truth they did but climb),
And there in sight of all the world beneath--
Ambition crowned fair Genius with a wreath.

All day they journeyed, swift from place to place;
Ambition led, and Genius joined the chase.
In every realm of fancy, or of thought,
All depths they sounded, and all heights they sought.

Now hand in hand for evermore they stray,
And if they part, or quarrel for a day,
You'll find Ambition, aimless, reckless, wild,
And Genius moping, like an idle child.

I DIDN'T THINK

If all the troubles in the world
Were traced back to their start,
We'd find not one in ten begun
From want of willing heart.
But there's a sly, woe-working elf
Who lurks about youth's brink,
And sure dismay he brings alway--
The elf, 'I didn't think.'

He seems so sorry when he's caught;
His mien is all contrite;
He so regrets the woe he wrought,
And wants to make things right.
But wishes do not heal a wound
Or weld a broken link;
The heart aches on, the link is gone,
All through--'I didn't think.'

I half believe that ugly sprite,
Bold, wicked, 'I don't care,'
In life's long run less harm has done
Because he is so rare;
And one can be so stern with him,
Can make the monster shrink;
But, lack a day, what can we say
To whining 'Didn't think'?

This most unpleasant imp of strife
Pursues us everywhere.
There's scarcely one whole day of life
He does not cause us care;
Small woes and great he brings the world,
Strong ships are forced to sink,
And trains from iron track are hurled, alack,
By stupid 'Didn't think.'

When brain is comrade to the heart,
And heart from soul draws grace,
'I didn't think will quick depart
For lack of resting-place.
If from that great, unselfish stream,
The Golden Rule we drink,
We'll keep God's laws, and have no cause
To say 'I didn't think.'

A BURIAL

To-day I had a burial of my dead.
There was no shroud, no coffin, and no pall,
No prayers were uttered and no tears were shed--
I only turned a picture to the wall.

A picture that had hung within my room
For years and years; a relic of my youth.
It kept the rose of love in constant bloom
To see those eyes of earnestness and truth.

At hours