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—The country too, which gave you birth,
That freest, happiest clime of earth,
To all, to each, with fervor cries,
"Child! for my sake,—be good, be wise.
Seek knowledge, and with studious pain,
Resolve her priceless gold to gain.
Shun the strong cup, whose poisonous tide
To ruin's dark abyss doth guide,
And with the sons of virtue stand,
The bulwark of your native land.
—Me, would you serve? This day begin
The fear of God, the dread of sin;
Love, for instruction's watchful care,
The patient task, the nightly prayer;
So shall you glitter as a gem,
Bound in my brightest diadem."
A Prayer.
Giver of our every blessing,
Thou, for whose unceasing care,
