. One hundred and one famous poems, with a prose supplement. o haud the wretch in order;But where ye feel your honour grip. Let that ay be your border:Its slightest touches, instant pause— Debar a side-pretences;And resolutely keep its laws, Uncaring consequences The great Creator to revere Must sure become the creature;But still the preaching cant forbear And evn the rigid feature:Yet neer with wits profane to range Be complaisance extended;An atheist-laughs a poor exchange For Deity offended! When ranting round in Pleasures ring, Religion may be blinded;Or if she gie a random sting, It may b
. One hundred and one famous poems, with a prose supplement. o haud the wretch in order;But where ye feel your honour grip. Let that ay be your border:Its slightest touches, instant pause— Debar a side-pretences;And resolutely keep its laws, Uncaring consequences The great Creator to revere Must sure become the creature;But still the preaching cant forbear And evn the rigid feature:Yet neer with wits profane to range Be complaisance extended;An atheist-laughs a poor exchange For Deity offended! When ranting round in Pleasures ring, Religion may be blinded;Or if she gie a random sting, It may be little minded; Page Sixty-six ®nz ^Sinxiitxtit rntix <$nt £fizcmitn& Tfitxzm* But when on Life were tempest-drivn— A conscience but a canker—A correspondence fixd wi Heavn Is sure a noble anchor! Adieu, dear, amiable youth! Your heart can neer be wanting!May prudence, fortitude, and truth, Erect your brow undaunting!In ploughman phrase, God send you speed, Still daily to grow wiser;And may ye better reck the rede, Than ever did th adviser!. TheDeacons Masterpiece >7 or The One-Hoss Shay Oliver Wendell Holmes (Born August 29, 1809; Died October 7,1894) Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay,That was built in such a logical wayIt ran a hundred years to a day,And then, of a sudden, it—ah, but stay,Ill tell you what happened without delay,Scaring the parson into fits,Frightening people out of their wits,—Have you heard of that, I say? Seventeen hundred and Secundus was then alive,—Snuffy old drone from the German was the year when Lisbon-townSaw the earth open and gulp her down,And Braddocks army was done so without a scalp to its was on the terrible Earthquake-dayThat the Deacon finished the one-hoss shay. Page Sixty-seven ©tte ^Inttbx^h vcttb 0tt£ <3mmmts Iftxtzms Now in building of chaises, I tell you what, There is always somewhere a weakest spot,— In hub, tire, felloe, in spring or thill, In
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, booksubjectenglishpoetry, bookye
