TO MY BROTHER JAMES.

James,‘ tis full time for me to write

Some rhymes to you in earnest quite.

I've promised long, and now I'll try

My promise to fulfill, and why?

Because you have a claim on me

Which, when paid off, will set me free,

To run awhile again in debt,

Which in its turn shall sure be met.

But this is trifling, you may say.

Perhaps it is, but trifles may

Effect some good; they often do,

And quite as often please us, too.

Who's free from trifling? I would ask.

To find out one would prove a task.

But then I candidly confess

That we should surely trifle less.

Well, let me see; can any theme

Be started? Yes, I had a dream

The other night. Both you and I

Were standing on a hill so high,

And soon there came a mighty stream

Which did not leave of hope a gleam.

But suddenly a plank we found,

That brought us safely to dry ground.

Then I awoke devoid of fear,

And you the Moral true shall hear.

All mortals now are sailing down

The stream of time, as you must own;

And waters roar, and dash, and foam.

Then say — how shall we reach our home?

There is a plank, as we have seen,

And it is safe, most safe, I ween.

‘ Tis in the Gospel clearly shown,

‘ Tis by all Christians fully known.

We have its merits long since tried,

And glory in the Lamb who died.

Then let us prize it as we ought,

And serve him who our souls has bought.

For surely this our duty is

If we would reach eternal bliss.