But gath'ring up fresh store,
Through ages yet to come, shall shine,
And shine, forever more.

ACROSTIC.

Enraptured thoughts intuitive,
Make haste to greet thy page.
Melodious with sweet accord,
And classic too with age.

And ever may the sacred nine,
Lead thee to their embrace,
Inspire thy song with themes divine,
Choice gems select from nature's mine,
Enriched with matchless grace.

Be thine a life of social joy,
Removed from care and pain,
On earth thy early years employ,
With prospect of that gain
No mortal here can realize,
Eternal bliss beyond the skies.

WORK TO-DAY.

Youth's the time; Youth's the season!
Learn and labor while you may,
Hear the voice of age and reason,--
Work to-day.

Labor hard in morning's prime,
Hasten on without delay,
Make the most of early time--
Work to-day.

Up betimes, nor let the sun
Find you sleeping or at play,
Sleep enough when life is done--
Work to-day.

Cull the sweets from ev'ry flower,
Seize the moments while you may,
Nor idly pass one sunny hour--
Work to-day.

ON THE DEATH OF A CHILD.

Dear sister, has thy little son,
Been snatched from thy embrace,
Thy fav'rite child, thy darling one,
Has left a vacant place.

His father oft with little John
Beguil'd the hours away,
To watch his little fav'rite son,
Enjoy his childish play;

For there was laughter in his eye,
And health was on his cheek,
I fancy that he's standing by,
And almost hear him speak.

The patt'ring of his little feet,
In fancy's ear is heard,
The music of his voice as sweet,
As singing of a bird.

The objects that we fondly prize,
How soon they pass away,
And we are left to realize,
The emblems of decay.

Dear sister, be resigned then,
Nor let your faith grow dim,
He cannot come to you again,
But you can go to him.

SPRING.

Awake and sing, for early Spring
Comes forth with beauty gay,
With joy elate, both small and great
Now bless the happy day.

Through all the earth comes beauty forth,
So sweet, so fresh and fair,
And ev'ry sound that echoes round,
Comes with a gladsome air.

While from the hill the little rill,
Comes trickling down so clear,
Its bubbling voice made me rejoice,
In many an early year.

Along the mead where'er we tread,
Will little flow'rets spring,
And through the air in colors rare,
Waves many a tin