The weekly Arizona miner., 1870-04-16
Ghe aWiner.
A Confession and Apology,

lis time that should loose from life at last This hearts unworthy longing for the past,
 Ere life be turned to loathlng. For love, at least this love of one for oue, s. at the best, not an beneath the sum
 And at the worst is uothing Sot that, of all the past, would forget One pleasure or one pain. l cherish yet,
 And would dishonor never All have felt But cherished though 1t be, 'Tis time mv past shsuld set my future free,
 For liieS renewed endeavor Not much reverence that remorse which flies To desert caves and bids it's dupes despise
 Themselves on whom it preys; Wasting the worth of life on worthless pain, To make the fu ,urc us the past was, vain,
 By endless selfdispraise. As though. forsooth because a man Is not His selfmade god, he needs must curse his lot
 With self contempt as though Some squalid maniac that with lifelong moan Insults manls flesh and blood with these hath done The best that man can do! Nor am | keen to urge that common claim On this world or another-here, for fame,
 Which only grows on graves or these for so much purchaseabc here By earth's joys stinted, Of celestial cheer;
 The stimulant of slaves Not for reward, not for release of pain, kut with a man s imperative ulsdam
 Of all that wastes mans nature. Ksse 0 my soul and reach to loflisr things, Gntrammced hy this forid weed that elings,
 stunting a spirits staturel was not born to sit with shrouded head, Piping shrll titties to the unburied dead,
 While lifes armed host sweeps by. hear the clarion call, the war-steed nsigh, The banner hutterng in the winds free pay,
 The brave mans battlec-y. And am conscious that, where all things strive, Iris shameful to slt still 1 would not live
 Content with a life lost In chasing mine own fancies through void air, Or decking forth in forms and phrases fair
 The miserable ghost Of personal joy or pain. The ages roll Forward. and, forward with them draw my soul
 Into times infinite sea. And to be glad, or sad, care no more; But to have done, and to have been, before
 cease to do and be- From the mmutest struggle to excel, Of things whose momentary myriads dwell
 In drops of dew confined, To spirits standing on one upmost stair, Whose utteranee alter worlds and are
 The makers of mankind. All things cry shame on lids that squander speech In words which. if not deeds, are worthless each,
 Not here are such words wanted,
  By nobly silent action, speak, and go
 Forth 10 their fates undaunted. Shame on the wretch who, born man, foregoes Man's oublous birthright for brutes repose!
 sname on the eyes that see This mighty universe, yet see not there Something of difficult worth a man may dare
 Brayely to do and hel Yet Is there naught for shame in anything Once dear and beautiful. The shriyelled wing,
 Scathed by what seemed star, And proved alas no star, but whitening fire, Is worther than the wingless worms desire
 For nothing fair or far. Rather the ground that's deep enough for graves, Rather the stream that's strong enough for waves
 Than the loose sandy drift Whose shifting surface chershes no seed Either of any flower or any weed,
 Whichever way it shin Or stagnant shalow which the storms despise, Naught finding there to prey upon, prize.
 Why should mans spirit shrink From feeling to the utmost-be it pain Or pleasure-all twas formed, nor formed in vain
 To feel with ioreel think That never to have aimed and missed is not To have achieved. hold the loftier lot
 To ennoble not escape, Lifes sorrows and loves pangs. I count man, Though sick to death for something nobler than
 A healthy dog or ape deem that nothing suffered or enjoyed By a mans soul deserves to be destroyed; q
 But rather 10 be made Means of souls increased capacity Either 10 suffer and to gain thereby
 A more exalted grade Among the spirits purified by pain Or 10 enjoy, and thereby to attain
 That lovelier influence Reserved for spirits that, mid the general moan or human griefs, praise God with dearest tone
 Of joyous trust intense. And for the reason, I would yet keep fair And fresh the memory of all things that were
 Sweet in their place and season; And forgive my life it's failures too Since failures old, to guide endeayors new,
 Iprlze for the same reason.
 -Ecieetic for February.