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Some have too much, yet still they erave;

I little have, yet seek no more :
They are but poore, though much they have ;

And I am rich with little store :
They poor, I rich; they beg, I give;
They lacke, I lend ; they pine, I live.
I laugh not at another's losse,

I grudge not at another's gaine;
No worldly wave my mind can tosse,

I brooke that is another's bane :
I feare no foe, nor fawne on friend;
I loth not life, nor dread mine end.
My welth is health, and perfect ease;

My conscience clere my chiefe defence;
I never seeké by brybes to please,

Nor by desert to give offence; Thus do I live, thus will I die; Would all did so as well as I!

TIMES GO BY TURNS. Robert Southwell, The lopped tree in time may grow again,

Most naked plants renew both fruit and flower ; The sorriest wight may find release of pain,

The driest soil suck in some moistening shower : Time goes by turns, and chances change by course, From foul to fair, from better hap to worse. The sea of fortune đoth not ever flow;

She draws her favours to the lowest ebb, Her tides have equal times to come and go ;

Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web: No joy so great but runneth to an end, No hap so hard but may in fine amend. Not always fall of leaf, nor ever spring,

Not endless night, yet not eternal pay: The saddest birds a season find to sing,

The roughest storm a calm may soon allay.

Thus, with succeeding turns God tempereth all,
That man may hope to rise, yet fear to fall.
A chance may win that by mischance was lost;

That net that holds no great, takes little fish; In some things all, in all things none, are cross'd ;

Few all they need, but none have all they wish. Unmingled joys here to no man befall; Who least, hath some; who most, hath never all.


When the straight columns, on whose well-knit

chine, Some stately structure leans its weighty head, Are from their centre mov'd, or made incline,

The pile soon sinks, and shrinks to its first bed. So, when you see Death's agents daily come,

And from the earth just men and good translate, A sure and sad prognostic 'tis of some

Impending judgment on a realm or state.
Ere God on Sodom stretch'd his flaming hand,

He had a care to send just Lot away;
So mostly still, when he will scourge a land,

Whom he best loves he puts out of the way.
Early set forth to your eternal race;

Th’ascent is steep and craggy you must climb; God, at all times, has promis'd sinners grace

If they repent; but he ne'er promis'd time. Cheat not yourselves as most, who then prepare

For death, when life is almost turn'd to fume; One thief was sav'd that no man might despair,

And but one thief, that no man might presume.

M 4

Wealth, honour, friends, wife, children, kindred,

all ! We so much doat on, and wherein we trust, Are withering gourds ; blossoms that fade and fall;

Landscapes in water; and deeds drawn in dust. How many

has the morn beheld to rise In their youth's prime, as glorious as the sun, Who, like a flower cropt, have had their eyes

Clos'd up by death before the day was done!


Death hath in all the earth a right;

power is great, it stretcheth far:
No lord, no prince, can 'scape his might;

No creature can his duty bar.
The wise, the just, the strong, the high,

The chaste, the meek, the free of heart,
The rich, the poor,—who can deny ?-

Have yielded all unto his dart.Since no man then can Death escape,

Nor hire him hence for any gain, We ought not fear his carrion shape;

He only brings ill men to pain.
If thou have led thy life aright,

Death is the end of misery :
If thou in God hast thy delight,

Thou diest to live eternally.
Each wight, therefore, while he lives here,

Let him think on his dying day:
In midst of wealth, in midst of cheer,

Let him account he must away.
This thought makes man to God a friend ;

This thought doth banish pride and sin;
This thought doth bring a man, in th’ end,

Where he of Death the field shall win.


Though Fortune have set thee on high, “ Remember yet that thou shalt die.”


November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh",

The shortening winter day, is near a close ;
The miry beasts retreating frae the plough ;

The black’ning trains o'craws to their repose, The toil-worn Cotter frae his labour goes,

This night his weekly moil is at an end, Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes,

Hoping the morn in ease and rest to spend, And weary, o'er the moor, his course does hame,

ward bend. At length his lonely cot appears in view,

Beneath the shelter of an aged tree; Th' expectant wee-things, todlin, stacher thro'

To meet their dad, wi' Alicterin S noise an' glee, His wee bit ingle* blinkin 5 bonnily,

His clean hearth-stane, his thriftie wifie's smile, The lisping infant prattling on his knee,

Does a his weary carking cares beguile, An' makes him quite forget his labour and his toil. Belye the elder bairns come drapping in,

At service out, amang the farmers roun',
Some ca’ the pleugh, some herd, some tentie? rin

A cannie8 errand to a neebor town:
Their eldest hope, their Jenny, woman grown,

In youthfu’ bloom, love sparkling in her e'e, Comes hame, perhaps, to shew a braw new gown,

Or deposite her sair-won penny-fee, To help her parents dear, if they in hardship be.

i Noise. ? Stagger. 3 Fluttering.
s Blazing. By and by. 7 Heedful.

A small fire.

8. Clever.

Wi' joy unfeign'd brothers and sisters meet,

An' each for other's weelfare kindly spiers? The social hours, swift wing'd, unnotic'd fleet;

* Each tells the uncos 10 that he sees or hears ; The parents, partial, eye their hopeful years ;

Anticipation forward points the view. The mother, wi' her needle and her shears,

Gars 11 auld claes look amaist as weel's the new;
The father mixes a' wi' admonition due.
Their masters' an' their mistress's command,

The younkers a' are warned to obey;
An' mind their labours wi' an eydent 12 hand,

“ An' ne'er, tho' out o'sight, to jouk 13 or play! * An' O! be sure to fear the LORD alway!

“ An' mind your duty, duly morn an' night, “Lest in temptation's path ye gang astray

; Implore His counsel and assisting might: They never sought in vain that sought the LORD

“ aright!" But hark ! a rap comes gently to the door ;

Jenny, wha kens the meaning of the same, Tells how a neebor lad came o'er the moor,

To do some errands, and convoy her hame. The wily mother sees the conscious flame

Sparkle in Jenny's e’e, and flush her cheek; With heart-struck anxious care, inquires his name,

While Jenny hafflins 14 is afraid to speak; Weel pleas'd the mother hears, its nae wild worth

less rake.

Wi' kindly welcome Jenny brings him ben 16 ;

A strappan youth ; he taks the mother's eye; Blithe Jenny sees the visit's no ill ta'en ;

The father cracks of horses, pleughs, an' kye.

9 Asks.
10 News.

11 Causes, 13 Joke or trifle. 14 Half or partly.

12 Diligent. 15 In or into,

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