The Placer herald., 1874-05-09


been employed in laying up rich stores of
knowledge, with which to refresh our minds
in after life. We do not value our time as
we ought, and we know not how to prize it
till it has gone from<us. We should remem-
| Der that
Youthful days will soon be over,
Though they seem to linger long;
Time once past we ne'er recover,
Whether we are old or young"
Aud we should use well our time. Be as
careful of it as the miser is of his gold, for
if we lose but one day, that day can never
be recalIed-it is gone forever.
Lost, lost, lost! pearl of countless price,
Cut from the living rock, engraved in Paradise.
Set round with three times eight large dia-
monds, clear and bright,
Each set with sixty smaller ones, as change
| full as the light.
When we go from here we can look back
on the past, and endeavor in the future to
continue to improve our minds, until we
reach that degree Of perfection which will
fit us for the duties of life. For before us
lie the vast and unexplored regions OF
SCIENCE the whole world our teld of search,
ourselves the searchers. We are now, SO
to speak, just commencing to gather up the
Grains of knowledg ge, the tiny grains, which,
pointed together, help to make us happy.
in having slight knowledge of the things
of this world. These unexplored regions of
knowledge are the storehouses Of the richest
treasures of science. Here lies the hidden
wealth which will challenge our greatest
penetrate and reach her secret vaults.
When we compare the past with the present,
and by the light of that comparison, look
into the future, we know that we may look
forward with pride to the time when the
bl essings of education will be plainly shown
throughout this Gland of the free."
When noble structures will rise from the
dust, and point their shining steeples heaven
ward, from whose portals will issue yearly
many noble minds, who will go forth to the
battle of life, TO meet its trials and tri-
umphs, with determinations fixed, which
will answer well the purposes and practical-
ties of that living age.
We should all carry from here some pleas
ant recolections. For in after life, when
the ''ever busy hand Of time" is crowning
our heads with the SHOWS of age, we can
look back down the long dim vista of years
Memories sweet of joys departed
Happy days forever Iast;
Years of blissful dreams and gladness
All too beautiful to last.
to our school days as the happiest period of
our lives. Then we can see in our imag-
ination old familiar faces, hear kind voices,
feel the warm clasp of the hand of friend
ship, and almost feel our blood bounding
with more vigor through our veins. We
can recall our confidential chats, our many
little disturbances, which tended to mar our
pleasure, and when we, like sensible peo-
Pile, needed wise counsel, and allowed the
congenial rays Of friendships sun to enter
our hearts, drive away all hard feel ngs,
smooth the wrinkles from our brows, and
by 20 doing render life more agreeable.
Schoolmates, we now separate, to mingle
again with the world Let us each depart
with hearts overAowing with friendly SYM
pathy toward each other. Let us 60 to our
homes with the only farewell, the simple
words, "God bless you"
'How sweetly falls these simple words
Upon the human heart,
When friends, long bound by strongest ties,
Are doomed by fate to part
You sadly press the hand of those,
Who thus in love caress you,
And soul responsive beats to soul,
In breathing out "God bless you"
"God bless you" more of expressed love,
Than volumes without number,
Reveal we thus our trust in Him,
Whose eyelids never slumber.
We ask in parting no long speech,
Draw ed out in studied measure;
We only ask the dear old words,
SO sweet, so sad, God bless you"
TO our TEACHER.
"Noble teacher! duty calls thee
From thy school, and thou must go;
But thy scholars will not forget thee,
While they journey here below.
For their love is twined around thee,
As the ivy around the tree.
Teacher, rest thy school is over;
Spoken now the last farewell,
Loving pupils no more hover
Round the brink of wisdom's we'll
Teacher, rest thy school is over,
Now thy scholars part with thee,
And though each may prove rover,
Yet remembered wilt thou be.
Teacher rest, thy school is over.
Dutys round is once more run;
But coming years will soon discover,
The priceless good that thou hast done.