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That Youth and I are house-mates still.

Dew-drops are the gems of morning,

But the tears of mournful eve!

Where no hope is, life’s a warning

That only serves to make us grieve

When we are old:

—That only serves to make us grieve

With oft and tedious taking-leave,

Like some poor nigh-related guest

That may not rudely be dismist,

Yet hath outstay’d his welcome while,

And tells the jest without the smile.

S. T. Coleridge.

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Our God and soldier we alike adore,

When at the brink of ruin, not before;

After deliverance both alike requited,

Our God forgotten, and our soldiers slighted.

Francis Quarles (1592-1644).

In an age of fops and toys,

Wanting wisdom, void of right,

Who shall nerve heroic boys

To hazard all in Freedom’s fight?

...

So nigh is grandeur to our dust,

So near is God to man,

When Duty whispers low, Thou must,

The youth replies, I can.

R. W. Emerson (Voluntaries).

ENGLAND

When I have borne in memory what has tamed

Great Nations, how ennobling thoughts depart