Morning journal and courier., 1884-03-08
P0HSimiann,
Is life worth liviDg?-Well, to tell yeu true, It scarcely is, if all men wtrs like you.

Is life worth Ifving?-Well, to tell you true. It scarcely is, if all men were like you. Bright-faced maiden, bright souled maiden. What is this that I must hear? Is thy heart with sorrow laden, Is thine eye cinmed with g tear? Can it be that Ii Ls so sweetly
 Rounded to be lightly kissed, Could be twisted ind screetly
 To that vile word PessirltsR Not for thine own ills thou weepest; Softly fea: hered is thy neat; When thou wakesf, when thou sleepest, Thou art fortuned with the best. But thy sisters and thy brothers Pierced with many woful smart, Dying children, wailing mot hers. Fret thy nerve and stab thy heart. In the country, in the city, Goddess deeds, loY0lesa list Stir thy blood and move thy pity. And hou at 8 PEssIMIsT. Storms and wars and t. sibulstions, Powered passions reiniess tfce, With insane Authorizations
 MIng ed travel far and wide, Can it be eye inspecting
 Things 80 tumbnng in pell-meu, With a cool control directing Such hotbed, such hell? Nay, sweet maid, but think more slowly: Though this thing and that be sad 'Tis logic most unh ply
 That the groes of things is bad; lis a trick of melancholy,
 Training life with deaths alloy; Or in wisdom, or in folly,
 Nature still delights in joy. Dost lhou hear Of starving sinners? Nine and ten or ninety-nine, Many thousands eat good dinners, Many hundreds quaf good wins. Hast thou seen score Of cripples? Equal legs not uncommon; If y,u know one foJl that tippleg, Thousands drink nut-Rlan and woman: Tell me if you know how many Murders happen in the town? One year, perhaps, if any; Should that weigh your heart quite down? No doubt, if you read the papers, You will find strange hotoh potch,- Doting dreams delirious c2pers, Many a blunder, blot and blotch; Baes of windy specu ation,
 Babblement of small and great, Cheating. swindlipg, pecul&tion, Squ6bblemeLt of Church and State; Miners bio VII up, humbugs shown up, Beaten wives, tnsulted brides, RaviDJ preachers, witless teachers, Lun ics and suicides. Drain nd cesspools, fAintings, levers, Pois cats and stolen lilies, Simpk E7ep, gay decefvsra,
 EveA Jrt and size of follies, Wandering M. P.'s brainle. babble. DeputRsions, meetings. dinners, Riots of the lawless rsbbie,
 Purple sins of West End sinners; Drivir g, dicipg, drinking, dancings Spirit -rappiDg ghostly stuff, Bubble schemes, and d,ft financing, When the shares are blown enough. All this is true; when men cut cspsrs That make the people talk or stare, Tomorrow, when you see the psre-s, You're sure to find your antics there, But you and and all our neiehbors, Meanwhile in pure and peaceful ways With link on link Of fruitful labors, Draw out our chain of happy days See th1u gs as they are; be sober;
 B8lance we'll 1ife's loss and gain; If today be chill October,
 Summer suns will come again. Are bleak wi ds forever kighinR?
 Do dark clouds forever lower? Are your friends all dead and dyirg? All your sweetness turned to sour? Great men doubt have Sometimes small WAVE But horse is not an ass, And black snake Is not always
 Lurking in the soft green graas Don't be hssty, gentle lady;
 In this whirl of diverse things Ke your footing, and with steady Poise control your eq al wings. All things cau't to all be pleasant, love bitter, you love sweet; Some faint when a cat is present, Rats find babies cheeks a treat If all tiney tn ngs were tall things If all tty things were g>and, Where would greatoess be- when all things On one common level stand? Do you think the winged breezes
 Fraught with healthy ventilation, When tender infant sneezes
 should retreat with trepid ation3 When dry Earth to Heaven is eslliog For soft rain and freshning dew. Shall the rain refrain from falling Lest my lady wet h. r shoe? Fools still rush to Fash conclusions, And the mole-eyed nlinion man Talks of troubles and confusions, when he sees not half the plan. Spare to blame and fear to cavil,
 With short leave dismiss your pain. Let no freIfut fancies revel
 In the sanctam of your brain. Ute maGnifying glasses
 To charge mo ehtlls into mountains, Nor on every i'll that passes
 Pour hot tears from bitter fountains, Trust in God and know your duty, Some goed things are in your power; Every day will brfI 6 it's booty
 From the labor Of the hour. Never reck what fools prating, Work and wait, let sorrow lie; Live and love; have done with hating, Goethe Says-and so ssy I.
 Bldekaoood's MdSGzine. ,. g. B.