Fair Venus Shines Even In

The First Pale Blossom Of The Unripened Year.

Eternity.—thy Name Or Glad, Or Fearful, We Pronounce, As Thoughts Wandering In Darkness Shape Thee. Thou Strange Being, Which Art And Must Be, Yet Which Contradict'st All Sense, All Reasoning,—thou, Who Never Wast Less Than Thyself, And Who Still Art Thyself Entire, Though The Deep Draught Which Time Has Taken Equals Thy Present Store—no Line Can Reach To Thy Unfathomed Depths. The Reasoning Sage Who Can Dissect A Sunbeam, Count The Stars, And Measure Distant Worlds, Is Here A Child, And, Humbled, Drops His Calculating Pen.

It Is To Hope, Though Hope Were Lost.

Forgotten Rimes, And College Themes, Worm-eaten Plans, And Embryo Schemes; A Mass Of Heterogeneous Matter. A Chaos Dark, Nor Land Nor Water.

You, That Have Toiled During Youth, To Set Your Son Upon Higher Ground, And To Enable Him To Begin Where You Left Off, Do Not Expect That Son To Be What You Were, - Diligent, Modest, Active, Simple In His Tastes, Fertile In Resources. You Have Put Him Under Quite A Different Master. Poverty Educated You; Wealth Will Educate Him. You Cannot Suppose The Result Will Be The Same.