Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/397

 1840-50.] SIDNEY DYER. 381 " The rains, that once refreshing came Give your heart to that duty, and strike As nectar from the gods, for your life. Now seek to press me lower still, And with every stroke, hit the nail on Beneath these filthy clods. the head. " The gentle dews, once soft and mild, If fate is against you ne'er falter nor fret. Now^ chill my shrinking form ; 'Twill not mend your fortunes nor light- And here I lie, a friendless one. en your load ; For vilest things to scorn ! Be earnest, still earnest, and you will for- get You e'er had a burden to bear on the " E'en vulgar weeds, so lately proud To dwell beneath my shade. road. Now rudely cry ' Away ! away ! ' And when at the close, what a pleasure to If near their roots I'm laid. know, That you, never flinching, however life " Ah ! why do all forsake me now, sped, When most I stand in need. Gave you heart to your duty, your strength And rend wuth keener pangs a heart to each blow. Already made to bleed ? And with every stroke, hit the nail on the head. " Earth's friendships ever thus are false As baseless visions are ; When naught is craved, they all would give. When much, they've naught to spare ! MY MOTHER'S EASY CHAIR. " But cease ; I will no more complain. Though friendless now and riven ; The days of my youth have all silently For those who suffer most on earth, sped. Enjoy the most of heaven ! " And my locks are now grown thin and gr-^y ; My hopes, like a dream in the morning, have fled, And nothing remains but decay ; Yet, I seem but a child, as I was long HIT THE NAIL ON THE HEAD. ago, When I stood by the form of my sire, This world is no hive where the drone may And my dear mother sung, as she rocked repose, to and fro While others are gleaning its honey with care ; In the old easy chau- by the fire. Nor Mill he succeed who is dealing his Oh, she was my guardian and guide all the blows day. At random, and recklessly hits every And the angel who watched round my where. bed; But choose well your purpose, then breast Her voice in a murmur of prayer died to the strife. away And hold to it firmly, by rectitude led ; For blessings to rest on my head.