Excuse this rather long digression,
  My pen has carried me astray;
These schoolboy days make an impression
  From which ’tis hard to get away.

Then let me turn, and return too,
  For I have wandered from my text,—­
Well, Mr. Steele, how do you do? 
  I hope you are not vexed.

’Tis pleasant in our riper years
  To have our children come
And bring their children—­little dears,
  They make it seem like home.

An old man’s children are his crown,
  And you may well be proud
When from your throne you just look down
  Upon this hopeful crowd.

But now my neighbors dear, adieu;
  “The best of friends must part;”
I’ll often kindly think of you,
  And treasure each one in my heart;

And if we never meet again
  On this poor frozen clod,
O! may we meet to part no more
  Around the throne of God.

TO MARY.

    The following lines suggested by the beautiful story of the sisters,
    Martha and Mary of Bethany, (Luke, 10:38-42,) were addressed to Miss
    Mary M., of Wilmington, Del.

In Bethany there dwelt a maid,
  And she was young and very fair;
’Twas at her house that Jesus stayed,
  And loved to stay, when he was there.

For Mary seated at his feet,
  In rapture hung upon His word: 
His language flow’d in accent sweet,
  Such language mortal never heard.

Her sister, cross in looks and word,
  (The cares of life have this effect,)
Came and accused her, to her Lord,
  Of idleness and of neglect.

“Martha, Martha,” He kindly said,
  Forego thy troubles and thy care—­
One needful thing, a crust of bread,
  Is all I ask with thee to share.

“Mary hath chosen that good part,
  To hear my word and do my will,
Which shall not from her trusting heart
  Be taken.”  It shall flourish still.

Dear Mary, in this picture see
  Thy own, drawn by a master hand;
Name, face and character agree
  Drawn by Saint Luke, an artist grand.

IMPROMPTU

To Mrs. Anna C. Baker.

    Composed in the top of a cherry tree when the wind was blowing a
    gale.

In fishing for men, I should judge from your looks
You’ve always had biters enough at your hooks. 
And whenever you dipp’d your net in the tide
You had little need to spread it out wide. 
To encircle so many you wish’d for no more
And like the old fishers sat down on the shore,
Casting all the worthless and bad ones away—­
Preserving the good and the true to this day. 
May the promising youth, I saw by your side
All blooming and beaming, your hope and your pride,
Be a pillar of state, so strong and so tall
As to make you rejoice, that you made such a haul.