THE MINSTREL.

Saturday Advertiser, Volume III, Issue 124, 24 November 1877, Page 3

THE MINSTREL.

" Ali! %wlio-can tell how hard-'itis.to climb. • ' The steep wliere Fame’s proud temple shines afar.” EATTIE. ' - ('Original.) ~ r r , , , ; T . BnPIHal |\#j Dream on, dream on, and biiild‘yonr J inagic towers, Climb to’Elysium, on the mellow beams- . Which bind the hcav’ns unto this orb of ours,/ :. When : threads .©f - gold'fall down in dazzling ’ ' streams,.'.:';.-' *'-% f.roT "-J I : '**'■ To'tie the Sun to Earth with knots of flowers, When Nature’s breast with vernal treasure ■ teems. .-.umolHe’) 'to juu;«lo<y* orllau

Dream on, dream on, and build your.castles airy, I’loat with the seraphs, upon.floods of light— i - Imagihation is a witching fairy. Whom angels send^y.ith,glimpses warm and bright ... .■•, . ;; ' Of scenes to come, when this strange life shall vary, , i v : , ' .< ' ‘ And we.shall see ourselves with fuller sight.'.) Dream on, dream on, in happy exaltation, ’Tis but the Bpirit rising o’er -its clay To scan the grander pictures of creation, . . J Hung in the light of never-ending day, . Where man receives his highest education, Where love, and truth, and peace for ever stay. ./ Thomas Beacken.

.. - ;■ ■ SON G. ; • (Original.) ': V. Flowers may bloom and roses twine, And strew the path where’er I be, And clouds of sorrow may be mine, Still I shall remember thee. When the midnight stars are peeping From out the boundless azure sea, And all are sweetly round me sleeping Still I shall remember thee. Although in foreign lands I roam, ; Across the dark, wide ocean free, Far from thee and far from home, Still I shall remember thee. Kate. MT ANSWER. ('Selected.) Do you know you have asked for the costliest thing • Ever made by the hand above : A woman’s heart, and a woman’s life, And a woman’s wonderful love ? Do you know you have asked for this priceless thing As a child might ask for a toy, Demanding what others have died to win, With the reckless dash of a boy ?

You have written my lesson of duty out, Men like you have questioned me; How stand at the bar of my woman’s soul, Until I shall question thee. You require your mutton shall always be hot, Your socks and your shuts he whole; I require your heart to be as true as God’s stars, And as pure as is heaven your soul.

You require a cook for your mutton and beef: I require a much greater thing — A sempstress your’e wanting for socks and shirts— I look for a man and a king. A king for the beautiful realm called Home, And a man that his Maker, God, Shall look upon as He did on the first, And say, “It is very good !”

I am fair and young, but the rose will fade From my soft young cheek one day j Will you love me then, ’mid the falling leaves, As you did ’mid the blossoms of May ? Is your heart an ocean, so strong and deep, I may launch my all on its tide ? A loving woman finds heaven or hell The day she becomes a bride. I require all things that are grand and true, All things that a man should be ; If you give this all, I would stake my life To be all you demand of me. If you cannot be this —a laundress and cook You can hire —and little to pay; But a woman’s heart and a woman’s life, Are not to be won that way.

WHO IS THY FKIEND ? By Frances Browne, The “ Blind Poetess of Donegal.” Who is thy friend ? The man that shares thy pleasures In banquet-hall or beauty’s witching bowers ; He that will dance with thee to folly’s measures, And make no reckoning of the squandered hours— To whom the revel and the game i 3 all ? These are the friends that help men to their fall. Who, is thy friend ? The man ,that shares thy pride, Thine hour of glory, or thy day of gain 5 Who stands in every triumph by thy side, _ And never finds that triumph false or vain, But shapes Mb doctrine as thy humour goes ? These are the friends misfortune turns to foes.

Who is thy friend ? The man that for his winning To power or place hath need of thine or thee; Who will not fear thy risk, nor blame thy sinning, So it but speed his fortune’s growing tree; Whose praise is large, whose promise larger yet ? These are the friends that fail us and forget.

Who is thy friend ? The man of truth and trust, In gladness near, in sorrow nearer still, To thy faults generous, to thy merits just, .Thy help.to every good from every ill, r y-j- - Whose' love for ’ the world’s ‘ hate might f make amends P- J ‘ * ; u P ■ 1 * Alas for it! this life hath such few friends. .••• i.-yav.jq wWWho is tliy friend ?. : .The besfe, the least regarded, In faith unfailing/arid iin love unchanged Through all the changeful years, though ill ret\l huii Mridh* Give Him t.iiy heart,'pftlong.and far estranged; And from the- broken reeds ot- earth ascend, / To ‘seek in Heaven thine everlasting Friend. )