The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1900-08-26

Address to the Ocean and 'Hohenlin-
den" and such as these were an inspira-
tion to me as / grew to manhood. II l
were teaching school l would have the
boys and girls to recite them. What a
book of gems could be made of selections
from the old authors, such poems as have
not been written in fifty years and could
not be written now What poet could ap-
proach such beauty of language and
sentiment as tAat verse from Gray
Full many gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean
bear:
Full many a flower is born to blush un-
seen
And waste its sweetness on the desert
air.
or those two verses from Goldsmith be-
ginning,
And what is friendship but name,
A charm that lulls to sleep"
or his sad warning to the weaker sex
when lovely woman stoops to folly
And learns too late that men betray,
What csarm can drive her grief away;
The only art her grief can smother
And stifle every burning sigh
And bring repentance to her lover
And wiring his boScm-is to die"
Then there is Tom Hoods Song of the
Shirt" that awakened all London. and his
other sweet, sad poem. Il Remember. I
Remember the House Where Was
Born" l would include those heroic
poems, 1.-The Burial of Sir John Moore.
by Wolfe. and Marco Bozaris." by Hal
leck. Never was a more sweetly sad and
fearful verse written on death than that
Of Halleck. beginning
Come to the bridal chamber death,
come to the mother when she feels
For the first time her frst-born's breath"
And there is Mrs Hemans apostrophe to
death.
Leaves have their time to fall"
and Longfellow's Psalm of Life and
Mrs. Smiths exquisite verses, IF 1
Should Die Tonight" and Tom Moores,
This World Is All Fleeting Show" and
Mrs Barbados unequaled lines on Life, ."
say not good but in some brighter
cline
Bid me good morning"
Horace Smiths lode to the Flowers, ="
and his Address to the Mummy" of
course, should go in, and the Fisher
mans Prayer" by Jean Inglelow-bless
her sweet memory, and The Cotter's
Saturday Night" by Burns, and About
Ben Adhem." by Leigh Hunt. and that
verse by Langhorne that Walter Scott
wept over-that weeping mother hunting
over a battlefield for a.husband slain
Bent DER her babe-her eyes dissolved
in dew,
The big drops mingling with the milk he
drew
Gave the sad presage of his future years
The child of misery baptised in tears.
There was painting of that sad picture
in an artists studio, and when Sir Walter
looked upon it and read the lines under
meath he was overcome. and weDt like a
child. Who does not love to weep some
times over such pictures or such poems
MY 0edr mOInCT uSeu W SiuS " AHO
Exile of Erin" by Campbell, and it did
me good to cry-tears are the embalmers
, of pity.
OF course 1 would not omit some beau
tiful gems from Coleridge and Words
worth, Montgomery and Newton, Cowper
and Gray and many others, but l would
like to make up book that would adorn
the freside of every good family. There
is one poem l have not mentioned, for
do not know who wrote it. nor do l re-
member but a few lines. Its title is
where Shall the Soul Find Rest?" and
| the verse l recall is:
And thou serenest moon that with such
holy tace
Looks down u?on the earth asleep in
nights embrace.
| Dost thou not know some spot where
weary man may rest,
And free from care and pain be ever blest.
Behind a cloud the moon withdrew in woe
| And in a sweet. sad voice she answered
No.
I Faith, hope and loye-best boons to NOR
tails given.
Plumed their bright wings and answered
'Yes-in heaven
l would be pleased if some one would
send me all Of that poem and tell me WHIT
| wrote IL RTII, ARP