She, that lieth in thy bosom, the tender wife of thy affections, Must obey thee, and be subject, that evil drop not on thy dwelling. The child that is used to constraint, feareth not more than he loveth; But give thy son his way, he will hate thee and scorn thee together. The master of a well-ordered home knoweth to be kind to his servants; Yet he exacteth reverence, and each one feareth at his post. There is nothing on earth so lowly, but duty giveth it importance; No station so degrading, but it is ennobled by obedience: Yea, break stones upon the highway, acknowledging the Lord in thy lot, Happy shalt thou be, and honourable, more than many children of the mighty. Thou that despisest the outward forms, beware thou lose not the inward spirit; For they are as words unto ideas, as symbols to things unseen. Keep then the form that is good; retain, and do reverence to example; And in all things observe subordination, for that is the whole duty of man. [Illustration] A horse knoweth his rider, be he confident or timid, And the fierce spirit of Bucephalus stoopeth unto none but Alexander; The tigress, roused in the jungle by the prying spaniels of the fowler, Will quail at the eye of man, so he assert his dignity; Nay, the very ships, those giant swans breasting the mighty waters, Roll in the trough, or break the wave, to the pilot's fear or courage: How much more shall man, discerning the Fountain of authority, Bow to superior commands, and make his own obeyed. And yet, in travelling the world, hast thou not often known A gallant host led on to ruin by a feeble Xerxes? Hast thou not often seen the wanton luxury of indolence Sullying with its sleepy mist the tarnished crown of headship? Alas! for a thousand fathers, whose indulgent sloth Hath emptied the vial of confusion over a thousand homes: Alas! for the palaces and hovels, that might have been nurseries for heaven, By hot intestine broils blighted into schools for hell: None knoweth his place, yet all refuse to serve, None weareth the crown, yet all usurp the sceptre; And perchance some fiercer spirit, of natural nobility of mind, That needed but the kindness of constraint to have grown up great and good, Now--the rich harvest of his heart choked by unweeded tares,-- All bold to dare and do, unchecked by wholesome fear, A scoffer about bigotry and priestcraft, a rebel against government and God, And standard-bearer of the turbulent, leading on the sons of Belial, Such an one is king of that small state, head tyrant of the thirty, Brandishing the torch of discord in his village home: And the timid Eli of the house, yon humble parish-priest, Liveth in shame and sorrow, fearing his own handywork; The mother, heart-stricken years agone, hath dropped into an early grave; The silent sisters long to leave a home they cannot love; The brothers, casting off restraint, follow their wayward wills;