shadow
Of the Rock that shields at night;
'T will lead through greenest pastures
Where softest brooklets flow,
And land you at a Station
That is full of cheer and glow.

{300}

On the other track, the roses
Are backed by sharpest thorns;
While berries always nourish,
And the violet but adorns;--
You will stumble into sluices,
And what is worse than all,
Your self-respect and conscience
Grow weak with every fall.

Yes, if you choose the other
That looks so bright and gay,
You'll find the bridges broken,
And the road-bed washed away;
And when you near the Station,
You'll switch to a fearful leap,
That will hurl you into darkness,
And bury you in the deep.

But those who choose the Right one
Grow manly, womanly, true;
God's love-light shines upon them,
And falls as heavenly dew;--
They grieve at your wild folly,
And will gladly help you back,
If at any curve or turning
You seek the trusty track.

{301}

But ah! the scars you're wearing,
From thorns that pierced you sore,-- {302}
And the ditches in which you've fallen,
That were strewn with roses o'er;--
And the joys you've lost, unnumbered,
That spring from good deeds done;
And the fruits you've missed, unmeasured,
That by others have been won.

Though friends may be indulgent,
And loved ones even forget,
Yourself can never banish
The memories that beset.
You will wish you had never traveled
The way that leads to death;
You will wish you had never reveled
In the viper's venomed breath.

So beware which track you follow;
And again I say, beware!
The _False_ is strewn with roses,--
The _True_ looks bleak and bare;
But this, 't is plain, is only
That youthful, artless eyes
Are open to show and glamour,
But see not deep nor wise,

{303}

To Truth then, children, listen,
And cultivate the seed
That in your hearts God planted,
To serve your every need;--
Yes, heed the voice within you,
And follow it all the way,
For it will help you choose the road
That leads to endless day.

{304}

_THE PHOEBE'S NEST IN THE OLD WELL-WHEEL._

"Phoe-be, phoe-be," why, 'tis a little bird,
"Phoe-be, phoe-be," singing the pretty word;
"Phoe-be, phoe-be," brown feathers cover him,
Gray breast, with blackish stripes scattered all over him.

"Phoe-be, phoe