In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud:
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the

years Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

William Ernest Henley

MY PRAYER

Great God, I ask thee for no meaner pelf
Than that I may not disappoint myself;
That in my action I may soar as high
As I can now discern with this clear eye.

And next in value, which thy kindness lends,
That I may greatly disappoint my friends,
Howe'er they think or hope that it may be,
They may not dream how thou'st distinguished me.

That my weak hand may equal my firm faith,
And my life practise more than my tongue saith;
That my low conduct may not show,

Nor my relenting lines,

That I thy purpose did not know,

Or overrated thy designs.

Henry David Thoreau

THE ARROW AND THE SONG

I shot an arrow into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew, the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak
I found the arrow, still unbroke;
And the song, from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

LITTLE AND GREAT

A traveler on a dusty road

Strewed acorns on the lea;

And one took root and sprouted up,
And grew into a tree.

Love sought its shade at evening-time,
To breathe its early vows;

And Age was pleased, in heats of noon,
To bask beneath its boughs.

The dormouse loved its dangling twigs,
The birds sweet music bore-

It stood a glory in its place,
A blessing evermore.

A little spring had lost its way
Amid the grass and fern;

A passing stranger scooped a well
Where weary men might turn;
He walled it in, and hung with care
A ladle at the brink;

He thought not of the deed he did,
But judged that Toil might drink.
He passed again; and lo! the well,
By summer never dried,

Had cooled ten thousand parched tongues,
And saved a life beside.

A dreamer dropped a random thought;
'Twas old, and yet 'twas new;
A simple fancy of the brain,
But strong in being true.
It shone upon a genial mind,
And, lo! its light became
A lamp of life, a beacon ray,
A monitory flame:

The thought was small; its issue great;
A watch-fire on the hill,

It sheds its radiance far adown,
And cheers the valley still.

A nameless man, amid the crowd
That thronged the daily mart,
Let fall a word of hope and love,
Unstudied from the heart;-
A whisper on the tumult thrown,
A transitory breath,-

It raised a brother from the dust,
It saved a soul from death.
O germ! O fount! O word of love!
O thought at random cast!
Ye were but little at the first,

But mighty at the last.

Charles Mackay

THE EFFECT OF EXAMPLE

We scatter seeds with careless hand,

And dream we ne'er shall see them more;
But for a thousand years

Their fruit appears,

In weeds that mar the land,

Or healthful shore.

The deeds we do, the words we say,--
Into still air they seem to fleet,

We count them ever past;

But they shall last,—

In the dread judgment they

And we shall meet.

I charge thee by the years gone by,
For the love's sake of brethren dear,
Keep thou the one true way,

In work and play,

Lest in that world their cry

Of woe thou hear.

THE CAPTAIN'S DAUGHTER

We were crowded in the cabin,
Not a soul would dare to sleep,-

It was midnight on the waters,
And a storm was on the deep.

'Tis a fearful thing in winter

To be shattered by the blast,
And to hear the rattling trumpet
Thunder, "Cut away the mast!"

John Keble

So we shuddered there in silence,

For the stoutest held his breath,
While the hungry sea was roaring
And the breakers talked with death.

As thus we sat in darkness,

Each one busy with his prayers,
"We are lost!" the captain shouted,
As he staggered down the stairs.

But his little daughter whispered,
As she took his icy hand,
"Isn't God upon the ocean,
Just the same as on the land?"

Then we kissed the little maiden,
And we spake in better cheer,
And we anchored safe in harbor

When the morn was shining clear.

James Thomas Fields

THE SHEPHERD OF KING ADMETUS

There came a youth upon the earth,
Some thousand years ago,

Whose slender hands were nothing worth,
Whether to plough, or reap, or sow.

Upon an empty tortoise-shell

He stretched some chords, and drew Music that made men's bosoms swell Fearless, or brimmed their eyes with dew.

Then King Admetus, one who had

Pure taste by right divine,