aside
From the path they are pursuing,
That wins at the eventide.
'Tis the firm determination
Of a strong and unyielding will,
Moved on by gigantic action
Of forces that cannot be still,
That has won the greatest honors
'Mong nations whose moral power
Have lighted liberty's beacon
In despondency's darkest hour.
The mind that is sometimes darkest
When it struggles for light and power,
Breaks off the bands of thraldom
And itself like some strong tower,
Becomes the bulwark of nations
In defense of some sacred cause
That looks toward the world's advancement,
Through reign of beneficent laws.

THE OGRE.

There's an ogre abroad, boys,
There's an ogre abroad,
A three-handed monster
That makes his abode
In hamlet and city,
In country and town,
And revels in death
As he drags people down.
He's a sly old destroyer,
Very loth to admit
That the snares he is using
Are fraud and deceit.
He has slain and devoured
More than the sword;
By all earnest people
He is greatly abhorred,
For he leads to disease,
To sorrow and death,
As poison exhales
From his presence and breath.
He fastens himself
On bright, innocent youth,
And slyly allures him
From virtue and truth.
He holds by the throat
The servants who wait
To hear his excuses;
And sad is their fate,
For insidious smile
Is his only excuse
To victims who suffer
Defeat and abuse.
So sly are his movements,
So stealthy his tread,
Like a vampire, on blood
He is frequently fed,
While his victim, unconscious,
Makes no defence;
He steals mind and honor
And good common sense.
If you meet him, my boy,
Beware of his grasp,
For his smiles are so sweet;
But on you he will clasp
The shackles he carries
Forever concealed,
And when he secures you
He seldom will yield.
He will keep you away
From duty and right,
Destroy all your honor,
Your hopes sadly blight,
With promises made
Which he cannot fulfill
He robs of contentment
And shackles the will.
This monster has always
A right hand and left hand
That have powers of their own
That ought to command.
If he had only these
And us