He That Climbs A Ladder

O! Many A Shaft, At Random Sent, Finds Mark The Archer Little Meant! And Many A Word, At Random Spoken, May Soothe Or Wound A Heart That's Broken!

The Happy Combination Of Fortuitous Circumstances.

We Build Statues Out Of Snow, And Weep To See Them Melt.

Never Was Flattery Lost On A Poet's Ear; A Simple Race, They Waste Their Toil For The Vain Tribute Of A Smile.

What Various Scenes, And O! What Scenes Of Woe, Are Witness'd By That Red And Struggling Beam! The Fever'd Patient, From His Pallet Low, Through Crowded Hospitals Beholds It Stream; The Ruined Maiden Trembles At Its Gleam, The Debtor Wakes To Thought Of Gyve And Jail, The Love-lorn Wretch Starts From Tormenting Dream; The Wakeful Mother, By The Glimmering Pale, Trims Her Sick Infant's Couch, And Soothes His Feeble Wail.