Читать книгу: «Mrs. Whittelsey's Magazine for Mothers and Daughters», страница 33

FROST

BY MRS. JULIA NORTON

 
The beams of morn were glittering in the east,
The hoary frost had gathered like a mist
On every blade of grass, on plant and flower,
And sparkling with a clear, reflected light—
Shot forth its radiant beams that, dazzling bright,
Proclaimed the ruling charm in beauty's power.
 
 
The god of day came forth with conquering glow,
When shrinking from his gaze the glittering show
In vapor fled, with steady, noiseless flight—
But left its blasting mark where'er it pressed
The tender plant that on earth's peaceful breast,
Still slept, unmindful of the fatal blight.
 
 
Thus sin oft gilds the onward path of youth,
Till straying far from virtue and from truth,
Heaven's bright, pure rays, in fearful distance gleam;
While on the mind the blasting, clinging shade,
With deathless power, refuses still to fade—
Till life's dark close unfolds the fearful dream.
 

The Fireside, is a seminary of infinite importance. It is important because it is universal, and because the education it bestows, being woven in with the woof of childhood, gives form and color to the whole texture of life. There are few who can receive the honors of a college, but all are graduates of the hearth. The learning of the university may fade from the recollection; its classic lore may moulder in the halls of memory. But the simple lessons of home, enameled upon the heart of childhood, defy the rust of years, and outlive the more mature but less vivid pictures of after days.