Forgive

The thronging years in glory rise,

And as they fleet,

Drop strength and riches at thy feet.

"Thine eye, with every coming hour, Shall brighten, and thy form shall tower, And when thy sisters, older born, Would brand thy name with words of scorn- Before thine eye, Upon their lips the taunt shall die."

FORGIVE.

If a dear friend have wronged thee, even though

The stab be given in the most vital part

That throbs through Love's betrayed, defenceless heart,

Forgive! — for she that struck thee might not know

How deep the misery of her thoughtless blow:

Forgive! — for of the self same frail flesh thou art,

And might 'st have winged for her as keen a dart

If thou hadst tempted, or been tempted so.

Forgive! — for other's crime and other's shame

Are not thy hurt; thy soul being still the same,

Since its integrity hath suffered not;

Forgive! — for in a little while both must go

Into the grave where tears shall cease to flow,

And sorrow, even this be all forgot.

Arthur Brooke.