ORIGINAL POETRY.

Southland Times, Issue 600, 5 December 1866, Page 3

ORIGINAL POETRY.

THOUGHTS ADDRESSED TO A LADY. By John G. Smii'H. Lady, thisworld is full of cares, Its very pleasures are but snares To catch the unwary mind ; The man alone is tr ly West, j Who 'mid its storms can calmly rest, Untroubled and resigned ; 'Tis faith that looks beyond the sky And love that fervent glows And hope that lifts the soul on high Can mitigate our woes. 'Tis given — a heaven On earth here to begin ; Desiring — aspiring To conquer death and sin. Oh ! man — how thankless of thy fate, How little art thou — yet how great The prize before thee set ; How canst thou plunee in vice and woe, And virtue's favors all forego, And her rewards forget. It is not on this earthly ball That we must live for aye ; The Queen— the lord— the peasant— all Are subject to decay. They're mortal — the portal Of death they must pass through ; Unthinking — yet shrinking From what they know is true. When young and summer days are long, And wood are vocal with the song O I heaven born melodies ; We dream of scenes for ever bright, Where all is love and all is lighff, Where pleasure never dies ; But when we wake to manhood's years, And youth's fond dreams are o'er ; And smiles have melted into tears, And pleasure charms no more. We feel then — our weal then This earth can ne'er beßtow ; That dreams then — are gleams then Of vanities below. We're but the creatures of a day, The slaves of Time's unswerving sway Who crumbles into dust ; Kings — thrones — and empires — earthly fame Before him is an empty name, A coronet of rust. How many of our loved compeers Now sleep beneath the sod ; Who vowed to seek in after years Companionship with God ; Yet blindly — unkindly, The vow has been forgot ; 'Mid dreaming: and scheming, Death sealed their earthly lot. When sailing calmnly down life's stream, i And pleasure colors every dream With rainbow tinted dyes ; We fondly hope when all is o'er, That we may reach the blessed shore, Beyond yon azure skies ; This cherished hone with thin disguise, Aye lurks within the breast, That we may find, when storms arise A haven where to rest. While groping and hoping, The anery tempests rave ; And sinking — unthinking, We vanish 'neath the wave. Bnfc, lady, we mu3t not assume The lo >k demure — nor c'en presume To judge a brother's part ; There's one above who knoweth all, Who marketh even the sparrow's fall, Each throbbing of the heart. Leave all to Him whose piercing eye Can penetrate the breast ; Who hateth proud hypocrisy, Howe'er ■superbly drest. No moaning or groaning, Or faces of despair, No canting or ranting Will find its favor there. Why should we wear a face of gloom ? As if the earth were one vast tomb, And skies a funeral pall ; All Nature speaks to us of joy, Of happiness without alloy That may be shared by all. 'Tis false philosophy to deem That " man was made to mourn," That to his soul one radiant beam Of joy is ever borne. Why wear then, and bear then, A face of cloudy woe ; Unless then we wish then Our senses to forego. Has God made anything in vain ? The laughing rill ; the smiling plain, The music of the grove ; The hoary mountains rocky steep ; The heaving billows of the deep Are fraught with joy and love, Which shed their hallow'd beams on all In heaven and earth below, And creatures great and creatures small, Feel their supernal glow ; But Man still his plan still, Will Natures laws oppose, And shrouds still with clouds still . The joys which Heaven bestows. Religion freed from formal creed, Is love of God in thought and deed, And love of brother man • Let priests becloud the truth with mist, And mar its beauties as they list The Gospel's simple plan Proclaims benevolence to all. Of every name and hue Who dwell on this terrestrial ball The Gentile and the Jew. Let's hear it, revere it, And its command obey, And gloom will gite room stiil To bliss that lasts for aye.