The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1884-07-10

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1t scarcely is, if all men were like you.''
prioht-faced maiden, bright-souled maiden.
what is this that must hear?
Ia thy heart with sorrow laden,
Is thine eye dimmed with tearS
can il be that lips so sweetly
Rounded TO be kindly kissed,
Gould be twisted indiscrectly
10 that vile word Pesstmtst7
Not for thine own ills thou weepest;
softly feathered is thy nest;
When thou wakest, when thou sleepeSt
Thou art fortuned with the best
pnt 4hy sisters and thy brothers
Pierced with many woeful smart,
pylng children, wailing mothers,
Fret thy nerve, and stab thy heart.
In the country, in the city,
Goddess deeds, a loveless list
stir thy blood and move thy pity,
And thou art PeSsimist.
Storms and wars and tribulations,.
Feyered passions reinleSs tide,
With insane hallueinations
Mingled travel far and wide.
Can there be an Eye inspecting
Things SO tumbling in pell-mell,
With q cool control directing
such a hotbed, such hell2
Nay, sweet maid, but think more slowly:
Though this thing and that be sad,
HTis a logic most unholy
That the gross of things is bad;
sT1s a trick of melancholy.
Tainting life with deaths alloy;
Or In wisdom, or in folly,
Nature still delights in joy.
{ DOgt thou near or starving SlNnCfS1
Nine and ten or niTetY-nine,
Many thousands eat good dinners,
Many hundreds quaff good wine.
Hast thou seen score of cripples?
Equal legs are not uucommon;
IL you know one fool that tipples,
Thousands drink not-man and woman;
Tell me, IL you know how many
Murders happen in the town?
One year. perhaps, ii any;
should that weigh your heart quite down2
No doubt, If you read the papers,
You viii find strange hotch-potch-
Doting Dreams delirious capers,
Many blunder, blot and blotch;
Bags of windy speculation,
Babblement of small and great,
Cheating, swindling, peculation,
Squabbement of Church and State:
Miners blown up, humbugs shown up,
Beaten wives, insulted brides,
Raving preachers, witless teachers,
Lunatics and suicides.
Drains and cesspools, Paintings. feYers,
Poisoned cats and stolen collies,
Simple women, gay deeeivers,
Every sort and size of foIlies,
Wandering M. p. 8 brainless babble,
Deputations, meetings, dinners,
Riots of the lawless rabble,
Purple sins of West End sinners;
Driving, dlcing, drinking, dancing,
Spiritrapping, gh0st1y stuff,
Bubble schemes, and deft financing,
When the shares are blown enough
All this is true; when men cut capers
That make the people talk or stare,
You're sure to find your antics there.
But you and I, and all our neighbors,
Meanwhile in pure and peaceful ways.
With link on link of fruitful labOrs,
Draw out our chain of happy days.
See things as they are; be sober;
Balance well life's loss and gain:
If to-day be chill October,
Summer suns will come again.
are bleak winds for ever sighing?
Do dark clouds for ever lower?
are your friends all dead and dying2
All your sweetness turned to sour?
Great men no doubt have sometimes small
ways
But horse is not an ass,
And back-snalxe is not always
Lurking in the soft green grass.
Don't be hasty, gentle lady;
In this whirl of diverse things
Keep your footing, and with steady
polse control your equal wings.
All things can't to all be pleasant,
love bitter you love sweet;
some faint when cat is present
Rats find babies cheeks a treat
Ii all tiny things were tall things
II all petty things were grand,
Where would greatness be, when all things
On one common level stand?
10 you think the winged breezeS
traught with healthy ventilation,
When tender infant sneezes
Should retreat with trepidation?
When dry Earth TO Heaven is calling
For soft rain and freshening dew,
snail the rain refrain from falling
Lest my lady wet her shoe?
Fools still rush to rash conclusions,
and the mole-eyed minion 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 fretful fancieS revei
In the sanctum of your brain.
Use no magnifying glasses
10 change molehills into mountains,
Nor on every hill that passes
Pour hot tears from bitter fountains.
Trust in God aud know your duty
some good things are in your power;
Every day win bring its booty
From the labor of the hour
Never wreck what folos are prating,
Work and wait, let sorrow lie;
Live and love; have doneswith hating,
Goethe says-and so say /.
--BtdckWoods Magazine.