 | Knitting-work |  |
DON'T LOOK BACK.
How some men dwell and ponder on the past;
Like ghosts come back 'neath glimpses of the moon,
Sighing o'er hopes and joys too bright to last,
And happiness departed all too soon!
Like owls they live, delighted with the night,
Or brood in hollows where the sun ne'er cheers,
Shutting their eyes perversely to the light,
That broad before them evermore appears.
O, men, throw off the sombre pall which hides
From your soul's vision the bright land To Be,
And sail on hopeful o'er the flowing tides
That tend toward the everlasting sea!
This counsel heed: that track 's the rightest one
That brings our vessel's prow the nearest to the sun.
Like ghosts come back 'neath glimpses of the moon,
Sighing o'er hopes and joys too bright to last,
And happiness departed all too soon!
Like owls they live, delighted with the night,
Or brood in hollows where the sun ne'er cheers,
Shutting their eyes perversely to the light,
That broad before them evermore appears.
O, men, throw off the sombre pall which hides
From your soul's vision the bright land To Be,
And sail on hopeful o'er the flowing tides
That tend toward the everlasting sea!
This counsel heed: that track 's the rightest one
That brings our vessel's prow the nearest to the sun.
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