Taking old gifts, and granting new. The wisdom of the present hour Makes up for follies past and gone;-- To weakness strength succeeds, and power From frailty springs,--press on! press on! Press bravely on! and reach the goal, And gain the prize, and wear the crown; Faint not! for to the steadfast soul Come wealth, and honor, and renown. To thine own self be true, and keep Thy mind from sloth, thy heart from soil; Press on! and thou shalt surely reap A heavenly harvest for thy toil. P. Benjamin. CLXXX. KINDNESS. The blessings which the weak and poor can scatter Have their own season. 'T is a little thing To give a cup of water; yet its draught Of cool refreshment, drained by fevered lips, May give a shock of pleasure to the frame More exquisite than when sectarian juice renews the life of joy in happiest hours. It is a little thing to speak a phrase Of common comfort which by daily use Has almost lost its sense; yet on the ear Of him who thought to die unmourned 't will fall Like choicest music; fill the glazing eye With gentle tears; relax the knotted hand To know the bonds of fellowship again; And shed on the departing soul a sense More precious than the benison of friends About the honored death-bed of the rich, To him who else were lonely, that another Of the great family is near and feels. Sergeant Talfourd. CLXXXI. HOW'S MY BOY? Ho, sailor of the sea! How 's my boy--my boy? "What's your boy's name, good wife, And in what good ship sailed he?" My boy John-- He that went to sea-- What care I for the ship, sailor? My boy's my boy to me.