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A POET'S OPTIMISM

He who derives much happiness from life, Which here and there a favoured one may do, Should he look coldly on the seething strife Of the unfavoured mass who struggle through An ever-anxious and care-laden lot. And blandly thus address them, "Look at me And take example! Wherefore do you not Cease to complain and life's full glory see: I grant you seem most wretched; but in truth If you are so, why God and I can find Excellent reasons for it: in good sooth He who denies all's well is deaf and blind." Fine preaching! but methinks I've heard such lore From many a fat-paunched alderman before.

THE POWER OF WILL

Why do we shrink from those appointed tasks Which 'tis our urgent duty to fulfil, Even when to do them no stem effort asks, And all that's wanting is the firm-set will? Aye there it is,—lacking the will we lack The spring that all our powers in action sets, Whence they in useless idleness lie slack Till that stirred spring their potency begets. Not those of deepest wisdom, keenest wit, The highest prizes, greatest triumphs gain, But those whose wills to lesser powers knit Endure unto the end of the campaign. Will's wit, but wit, alas! is oft not will, And thus is wit poor and unhappy still.

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