The OLD MAN'S COMFORTS. And how he gained them. You are old, Father William, the young man cried, In the days of my youth, Father William replied, You are old, Father William, the young man cried, And yet you lament not the days that are gone, In the days of my youth, Father William replied, I remember'd that youth could not last; I thought of the future whatever I did, You are old, Father William, the young man cried, And life must be hastening away; You are chearful, and love to converse upon death! Now tell me the reason I pray. I am chearful, young man, Father William replied, Let the cause thy attention engage; In the days of my youth I remember'd my God! And He hath not forgotten my age. I The EBB TIDE. Slowly thy flowing tide Came in, old Avon! scarcely did mine eyes, As watchfully I roam'd thy green-wood side, Behold the gentle rise. With many a stroke and strong The labouring boatmen upward plied their oars, And yet the eye beheld them labouring long Between thy winding shores. Now down thine ebbing tide The unlaboured boat falls rapidly along; The solitary helms-man sits to guide And sings an idle song. Now o'er the rocks, that lay So silent late, the shallow current roars ; Avon! I gaze and know The wisdom emblemed in thy varying way; Kingdoms that long have stood And slow to strength and power attain'd at last, Thus from the summit of high fortune's flood Ebb to their ruin fast. So tardily appears The course of time to manhood's envied stage; The HOLLY TREE. O Reader! hast thou ever stood to see The Holly Tree? The eye that contemplates it well perceives Ordered by an intelligence so wise, As might confound the Atheists sophistries. Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen No grazing cattle thro' their prickly round But as they grow where nothing is to fear, |