I'll offer counsel quite as just

Though dull of point and rude in measure; Beware in youth of cold distrust

That clogs the springs of sinless pleasure.

Suspect not all-if thou art fair,

Of flattery whom thy converse pleases ; But yet their praise as lightly bear

As flowers the touch of passing breezes.

If small thy dower-round Mammon's cave
Disdain to watch with lures of beauty;
Nor seek to be a glittering slave
In golden chains of bridal duty.

The fault of Atalanta shun,

Who lost the race with sordid leisure ;

The goal of happiness unwon,

Of what avail is senseless treasure?

If wealth be thine, with prudent care
But not idolatrously keep it :
There never yet was spendthrift heir
Whom sorrow did not force to weep it.

But, being rich, in scale too nice
Weigh not thy gold against affection;
Earth has no ore of half the price
Of love refined by fond reflection.

If thou hast mind as well as wealth,

When strangers gladly round thee hover, Oh do not then insidious stealth

In each admirer's glance discover.

Think not the ruling lust of pelf

Sets every head in scheming actionTrust that thy mind's magnetic self May have some share in the attraction.

O maiden, be reserve thy stay ;

'Tis youthful Hope's unfailing anchor: But throw suspicion far away;

'Tis Feeling's bane, and Beauty's canker.

TENSES.

PAST, be thou forgot!

Present, vanish fast!

Future, thou art not,

Would that thou wert past!

So in peevish moods,

Youth impatient said,

Later sorrow broods

Thus o'er wiser dread.

Past, be thou not dumb!

Present, be not deaf!

Lest the future come

Like a sudden thief.

Age, within thy brow,

Grave the deeds of youth;

So shall then to now

Teach severest truth.

So shall folly's page

Furnish wisdom's text,

Youth instructing age
Ever when perplext.

Sins are memory's thorns,
Lay them to thy soul;

Every puncture warns

Wanderers from the goal:

'Him who wore their crown, Truant, thou must meet

(O beware his frown!)

On his judgment seat.'

Present, let the past

Therefore be thy tutor;

Welcome then the last

Trumpet to the future !

THE TWO RINGS.

ONE contained hair, which had been set by mistake in a blackbordered ring, with a butterfly enamelled on it-On the other was engraved the Portuguese word Saudade.

So, Dora, 'tis thy chance to wear
Thy living lover's pledge of hair,
Upon a Mourning Ring;
Say could the Genius of Despair
A darker omen bring?

Well, wear it thus in fortune's spite!

Perhaps the omen read aright

With bland injunction saith,
In absence be thy spirit bright,
For he is true till death.'

And that Greek emblem, wing'd for flight Through mortal darkness to the light

Which gleams afar, above,

May hint that even thus his soul

From death may rise to thee, its goal,

Its beacon light of love.