majesty that must endure,

Till thrones of kings and queens shall tumble,
And monuments of stone and brass,
Shall into shapeless ruin crumble,
And blow away like withered grass.

The world moves on with quickening pace,
And those who falter fall behind,
Then enter for the mental race,
Where mind is pitted against mind.

While we are cousins in the flesh,
In mind I think we're nearer still,
Your genius leads you to the brush,
But mine inclines me to the quill.

And now, my cousin fair, adieu,
My promise I have somehow kept,
That I would write a line for you,
I hope you will these lines accept.

STANZAS

Addressed to Mr. and Mrs. T. Jefferson Scott, upon the occasion of
the 24th anniversary of their wedding, March 2nd, 1882.

Kind gentlemen and ladies fair,
I have a word or two to say,
If you have got the time to spare,
Sit down, and hear my humble lay.

No tiresome homily, I bring,
To chill your joys and make you sad,
I'd rather hear you laugh or sing,
Than see you solemn, dull or mad,

A bow that's always bent, they say,
Will lose its force and wonted spring,
And Jack's all work and never play,
Makes him a dull and stupid thing.

Man's greatest lesson is mankind,
A problem difficult to solve,
I've turned it over in my mind,
And reached, at last, this sage resolve:

That when I know myself right well,
I have a key to all the race,
Thoughts, purposes and aims that tell
On me, are but a common case.

There is a time to laugh and sing,
A time to mourn and grieve as well;
Then let your song and laughter ring,
This is no time on griefs to dwell.

We've met to greet our friend, T.J.,
And tender our congratulations,
Without forgetting Phebe A.,
In our most heartfelt salutations.

For four-and-twenty changeful years
They've worn the bright hymenial bands,
And shared each other's hopes and fears,
And each held up the other's hands.

He, like a stately, giant oak,
Has spread his branches wide and high,
Unscathed by lightning's fatal stroke,
Or tempest raving through the sky.

She, like a tender, trusting vine,
Twines round and through and o'er the tree;
Her modesty and worth combine,
To hide what roughness there might be,

Beneath this cool, refreshing shade,
The wretched quite forget their woes,
The hungry find the needed bread,
The weary wanderer, his repose.

Long live this honored, worthy pair!
May fortune co