For her own breakfast she'll project a scheme,
Nor take her tea without a stratagem.
STRAWBERRY
Fragaria
Like strawberry wives, that laid two or
three great strawberries at the mouth of their
pot, and all the rest were little ones.
The strawberry grows underneath the nettle
And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best
Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality.
STRENGTH
My strength is made perfect in weakness.
As thy days, so shall thy strength be.
A threefold cord is not quickly broken.
Like strength is felt from hope, and from despair.
A mass enormous! which, in modern days
No two of earth's degenerate sons could raise.
Strong are her sons, though rocky are her shores.
Their strength is to sit still.
And, weaponless himself,
Made arms ridiculous.
Minimæ vires frangere quassa valent.
The least strength suffices to break what is bruised.</poem>
Plus potest qui plus valet.
The stronger always succeeds.
They go from strength to strength.
I feel like a Bull Moose.
Profan'd the God-given strength, and marr'd the lofty line.
In that day's feats,
He prov'd best man i' the field, and for his meed
Was brow-bound with the oak.
O, it is excellent
To have a giant's strength, but it is tyrannous
To use it like a giant.
So let it be in God's own might
We gird us for the coming fight,
And, strong in Him whose cause is ours
In conflict with unholy powers,
We grasp the weapons he has given,—
The Light, and Truth, and Love of Heaven.
STUDENTS
Rocking on a lazy billow
With roaming eyes,
Cushioned on a dreamy pillow,
Thou art now wise.
Wake the power within thee slumbering,
Trim the plot that's in thy keeping,
Thou wilt bless the task when reaping
Sweet labour's prize.
Strange to the world, he wore a bashful look,
The fields his study, nature was his book.
Experience is the best of schoolmasters, only the school-fees are heavy.
The scholar who cherishes the love of comfort, is not fit to be deemed a scholar.
The studious class are their own victims; they are thin and pale, their feet are cold, their heads are hot, the night is without sleep, the day a fear of interruption,—pallor, squalor, hunger, and egotism. If you come near them and see what conceits they entertain—they are abstractionists, and spend their days and nights in dreaming some dream; in expecting the homage of society to some precious scheme built on a truth, but destitute of proportion in its presentment, of justness in its application, and of all energy of will in the schemer to embody and vitalize it.
The world's great men have not commonly been great scholars, nor its great scholars great men.
