The poems of John G. C. Brainard A new and authentic collection, with an original memoir of his life |
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WRITTEN FOR AN ALBUM. |
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 | The poems of John G. C. Brainard |  |
WRITTEN FOR AN ALBUM.
See to your book, young lady; let it beAn index to your life—each page be pure,
By vanity uncolored, and by vice
Unspotted. Cheerful be each modest leaf,
Not rude; and pious be each written page,
Without hypocrisy, be it devout;
Without moroseness, be it serious;
If sportive, innocent: and if a tear
Blot its white margin, let it drop for those
Whose wickedness needs pity more than hate.
Hate no one—hate their vices, not themselves.
Spare many leaves for charity—that flower
That better than the rose's first white bud
Becomes a woman's bosom. There we seek
And there we find it first. Such be your book,
And such, young lady, always may you be.
| The poems of John G. C. Brainard | |