Canada and Other Poems/Verses Written in Autograph Albums

by Thomas Frederick Young

Layout 2

VERSES WRITTEN IN AUTOGRAPH ALBUMS.

TO MISS ———  

Youth is the time when all is bright;
 The mind is free from care;
No thoughts of aught, save present joys,
 Can find an entrance there.

And, if a thought of future years
 Steal o'er the careless mind,
That thought speaks of a happier time
 When years are left behind.

But when the years of youth have fled,
 And life is fill'd with pain,
We think full oft of vanish'd years,
 And wish them back again.

And oft this wish will soothe our pain,
 And oft allay our woe,
Oh, sweet to us is mem'ry then,
 When we think of long ago.

May thou live on till youth has pass'd,
 And feel but little pain,
And may thou, in a blest old age,
 Live o'er your youth again.

 

To a FRIEND.  

With kindly thoughts full oft we've met.
And bow'd at Friendship's sacred shrine;
Oh, may we ne'er those thoughts forget,
But may they still our hearts entwine.

May both retain those feelings long,
Which prompt the words of friendly tongue,
May I not fail to think of thee,
Nor you to think of T. F. Young.

 

To Miss ———  

My friend of days, but not of years,
With kindly heart these lines I trace,
To tell you of a kindly wish,
Which I upon this page would place.

It is that thou thro' future years
May meet with very much of joy,
And just a little grief, because
Continued happiness will cloy.

And when, in future years, you read
What I to you just now have sung,
Let others praise or blame, do thou
Think pleasantly of T. F. Young.

 

To ———  

These lines, which on this leaf I write,
I trace with friendly thoughts of thee,
And hope, when o'er this page you glance,
You'll think a kindly thought of me.

And why should I this tribute ask?
Why crave from you this humble boon?
Because I knew you through life's morn,
And hope to know you in its noon.

Because the path of life we trod,
With youthful hearts so free from pain,
When both together went to school,
And wander'd gaily home again.

This, then, is why I ask of you,
As on this little page you look,
To think of me, with other friends,
Whose names are witten in your book.

 

To a Friend.  

In years to come, when looking o'er
 These lines I've penn'd for thee,
I trust that thou shalt ne'er have cause
 To think unkind of me.

And if you have, let memory
 Try hard to blunt the dart,
And tho' I may deserve the blame,
 Let kindness soothe the smart.

 

To a Friend.  

The youthful joys of vanished years,
 The joys e'en now we share,
Have something of a sacred bliss,
 Which time can not impair.

For when the years of youth have gone,
 Its joys and hopes have flown,
The mem'ry clings with fond embrace—
 Those joys are still our own.

Then, as I write these words for you,—
 This earnest wish I pen:
That you may think but pleasant thoughts—
 When life's liv'd o'er again.

May nought of sorrow, or of woe,
 Invade to wound or pain,
And may the joys that we have shar'd
 Be bright in memory's train.

 

To Miss ———  

In tracing here these lines, my friend,
 Which spring from friendly heart,
I here record an earnest wish,
 For thee, before we part:

May health and happiness serene,
 Long, long with thee abide,
May youthful joys no sorrow bring,
 Nor future woes betide.

And when thy youthful beauty leaves,
 And youthful thoughts thy breast,
May thou in calm old age still live,
 In happiness and rest.

 

To a Little Girl.  

Go, little girl, your course pursue,
 On life's rough ocean safely glide,
May want nor woe e'er visit you,
 Nor any other ills betide.

Improve the shining hours of youth,
 For soon, alas, they will be gone,
Strive hard for learning, zeal and truth,
 For ev'ry soul must fight alone.

 

To a Friend.  

Within this little book of thine,
Are thoughts of many a friendly mind,
Expressed in words, on which you'll gaze
In after years, with feelings kind.

And while you're scanning o'er each page,
 These lines I write, perchance you'll see,
And tho' they're penn'd by careless hand,
 You'll know that they are penned by me.

Perhaps you'll think of school-days then,
 Of happy school-days, long since past,
When you and I, in careless youth.
 Thought that those days would always last.

 

To Master George Twiddy.  

G o on your way, my youthful friend,
E arth's joys and woes to feel,
O 'er rough and smooth, your course will tend,
R ight on, thro' woe and weal,
G ird up yourself then, for the fight,
E ach foe to meet without affright.

T hink not too much of joy or woe,
W hich one and all must meet,
I n duty's path still onward go,
D ark days and bright to greet,
D etermin'd still to do your best,
Y our work, be sure, will then be blest.

 

To Miss ———  

The fairest flowers often fade,
 And die, alas! too soon,
Ere half their life is sped, they droop,
 And wither in their bloom.

But may thy life thro' future years,
 In healthful beauty shine,
And when you think of other days,
 Think of this wish of mine.

 

To Miss Milly Scott.  

Memories of happy school-days,
In which we view the years gone by,
Long they last, and long they cheer us—
Live well the moments as they fly,
Your youth is passing swiftly by.

See, then, Milly, that your school-days
Can no mem'ries sad retain,
Onward! upward! be your motto,
Try and try, and try again,
The future will reward the pain.