Classic Poem

OF THE N INE-PINS .

(Being a Fable for six Years Old.)

A NINEPIN that was left alone,
When all his friends were overthrown,
Every minute apprehending,
The destructive stroke impending,
Earnestly complain'd and cried;
But Master Henry thus replied:—
“Are you the wisest and the best?
“Or any better than the rest?
“While you linger to the last,
“How has all your time been past?
“Standing stupid, unimproved,
“Idle, useless, unbeloved;
“Nothing you can do or say
“Shall debar me from my play.”

 T HE Nine-pins you perceive are men,
'Tis death that answers them again;
And the fable's moral truth,
Suits alike with age and youth.
How can age of death complain,
If his life has past in vain?
How can youth deserve to last
If his life is idly past?
And the final application,
Marks the separate obligation,
Fairly placed within our reach,
Your's to learn, and mine to teach.