Classic Poem

Thus said the Poet, in the olden time,
When sense not sound builded the stately rhyme, —
" The cottage nestling in the lowly dale,
" Ill fortune never fears, because so low;
" The anchored mind, dreading no fickle gale,
" Sleeps safe when Fate doth Princes overthrow; "
Content still smiles, when portly statesmen feel
That fear and danger tread upon their heel.

If Fortune frowns and scowls, may that to these work good!
If Fortune flattering smiles, may it not prove a snare!
May crosses bravely borne, ills patiently withstood,
And length of peaceful days for new life them prepare!
May hope gild every cloud, Faith make the future bright,
And patience them maintain in quiet and delight;
While, till their changeless love shines into perfect day,
Bravely they hand in hand do walk their homeward way,
And hear, behind the bells in wintry Autumn ringing,
The soft sweet chorus of the loving angels singing.