Thus Aged Men, Full Loth

'tis An Old Tale, And Often Told; But Did My Fate And Wish Agree, Ne'er Had Been Read, In Story Old, Of Maiden True Betray'd For Gold, That Loved, Or Was Avenged, Like Me!

One Hour Of Life, Crowded To The Full With Glorious Action, And Filled With Noble Risks, Is Worth Whole Years Of Those Mean Observances Of Paltry Decorum, In Which Men Steal Through Existence, Like Sluggish Waters Through A Marsh, Without Either Honor Or Observation.

The Lover's Pleasure, Like That Of The Hunter, Is In The Chase, And The Brightest Beauty Loses Half Its Merit, As The Flower Its Perfume, When The Willing Hand Can Reach It Too Easily. There Must Be Doubt; There Must Be Difficulty And Danger.

There Are Those To Whom A Sense Of Religion Has Come In Storm And Tempest; There Are Those Whom It Has Summoned Amid Scenes Of Revelry And Idle Vanity; There Are Those, Too, Who Have Heard Its "still Small Voice" Amid Rural Leisure And Placid Retirement. But Perhaps The Knowledge Which Causeth Not To Err Is Most Frequently Impressed Upon The Mind During The Season Of Affliction.

Mankind — The Race Would Perish Did They Cease To Aid Each Other.