Poems (Osgood)/Golden Rules in Rhyme

by Frances Sargent Osgood

GOLDEN RULES IN RHYME.

from a matron to a maiden.

"While I touch the string,
  Wreathe my brows with laurel;
For the song I sing
  Has for once a moral!"—Moore.

Come listen, while in careless rhyme,
 Some golden rules I give you
That you may hoard the wealth of Time,
 And life may not deceive you.

In childhood's hours, when in the sun
 Our sportive group assembled,
And off our frail pipes, one by one,
 The glittering bubbles trembled;

If mine with lovelier lustre shone,
 Or higher soar'd,—what trouble!
My brother, leaving all his own,
 Blew out my beaming bubble!

And thus the world—when young Romance
 Her airy dreams is weaving,
And Hope's soft rainbows round them dance,
 As radiant, as deceiving,

Thus will the world, my child, destroy,
 With treachery more refined,
The soaring dreams of love and joy,
 The bubbles of the mind!

Then yet in time a lesson learn,
 From one who learn'd too late,
That world, whose laugh we laugh to scorn,
 Her fiat here is fate!

When honor, placed in reason's scales,
 Outweighs the owl's opinion,
All free and fearless, trim your sails,
 And steer for Heaven's dominion!

But still in trifles, where no wrong
 Can come of yielding to her,
Oh! chord with hers your careless song,
 And of her smiles be sure!

When Love would fling his flowery net
 Around your joyous spirit,
Ask not for rank, or wealth, or wit,
 But yield to manly merit.

Remember—Love but seldom strings
 His flowers on golden wire,
Remember—Wit has wanton wings,
 That might put out his fire.

Your heart be like a stainless glass,
 Where fleeting, outward graces
But lend their beauty as they pass,
 And leave behind no traces;

On which—its subtle nature's such,
 The gem of gems—in glory—
The diamond, with its lightning touch.
 Alone can write love's story.

As to the moon, the ocean's tide
 Subjects its strength unruly,
So let a light from Heaven, love, guide
 The tide of passion truly.

If sorrow come—resist it not,
 Nor yet bow weakly to it;
Look up to meet the Heaven-sent storm;
 But see the rainbow thro' it!

And let not pleasure's reckless hands
 Too often shake time's glass, love:
At best, the few and priceless sands
 Too surely, swiftly pass, love!

And seek not bliss on airy heights,
 Where dizzy power doth rally!
The "fragrant little heart's-ease" lights
 The lowliest, humblest valley.

The gem that clasps a royal robe
 The worldling's eye may dazzle,
But Love will light his glow-worm lamp
 In cot as well as castle.

The magic flower in Erin's Isle,
 That bears about a blessing,
Perchance is but good-humor's smile,
 A kindly heart's caressing.

If comes a blow, from friend or foe,
 With earnest good avenge it,
"The sandal-tree, with fragrant sigh,
 Perfumes the axe that rends it."

Be like the sun, whose eye of joy
 Ne'er on a shadow lay, love!
Be like the rill that singeth still,
 Whate'er be in its way, love

Ne'er waste your heart in vain regret,
 Tho' youth be dimm'd by care;
"For lovelier flowers than summer wreathes
 May twine in winter's hair."

With childlike trust look forward still,
 For Heaven is always near;
"Full oft our very fear of ill
 Exceeds the ill we fear."

Nor question Fate! the world-ship still
 Under seal'd orders sailing;
'Twere best the great Commander's skill
 To trust with faith unfailing.

Nor idly waste the golden hours,
 The plumes of Time's swift wings:
The watch must still be wound to work,
 Or rust corrodes its springs.

If once a purpose pure and high
 You form, for naught forego it!
"The mulberry leaf to silk is changed
 By Patience," says the poet.

Let Fancy fly her fairy kite,
 And light with wit its wing, dear
But oh, lest it go out of sight,
 Bid Reason hold the string, dear.

For, soaring where the poet's heaven
 With starry gems is spangled
It might, by Folly's zephyr driven,
 In moonshine get entangled.

Yet sneer not thou at those who rise
 To loftier delusions;
"Great truths are oft," the sage replies,
 "Foreshadow'd by illusions."

Confide in Friendship's right good-will,
 But not too often task it;
"It is the highest price we pay
 For any thing, to ask it."

If Nature's glorious overture
 Discordant seem to be, love,
Be sure your heart is out of tune,
 And try the sounding key, love!

Let more than the domestic mill
 Be turned by Feeling's river;
Let Charity "begin at home,"
 But not stay there forever.

Look on the poor with pitying eyes,
 And "reason not the need;"
For angels in that mean disguise
 May often ask their meed.

But if a debt by honor seal'd
 Uncancell'd yet remain,
Oh, ne'er to generous impulse yield
 What Justice asks in vain!

Be frank and pure, and brave and true,—
 True to thyself and Heaven;
And be thy friends, the gifted few;
 And be thy foes forgiven.

And hold thyself so dear, so high,
 That evil come not near thee,
That meanness dare not meet thine eye,
 And Falsehood fly and fear thee!

Shrink not to aim the shafts of wit,
 At all that's mean or narrow;
But oh, before you bend the bow,
 Be sure it holds the arrow!

Command your temper, guard your tongue,
 Lest they have sway undue;
For deeds, not words, the bell be rung,
 Which fame may ring for you!

And so, if from my careless rhyme,
 You cull the rose of Reason,
I have not wasted all my time,
 But said "a word in season."