a present of the withered leaves to God, to lay the first, best, and rarest fruits on the altar of Satan, and to offer to God those which have lain long under the tree, have been devoured by insects, and allowed to rot."
6. What an awful punishment is on this account to be dreaded for the dissolute young man! Do you, therefore, make better resolutions, and say to yourself: "I am still young, and I will adorn the bright days of youth with virtues. I will give my heart to Him, to whom alone it belongs, and who asks so earnestly for it in these words: 'My Son, give Me thy heart.' "
The heart of childhood is all mirth,
We frolic to and fro
As free and blithe, as if on earth
Were no such thing as woe.
But if too soon with reckless faith
We trust the flattering voice
Which whispers: "Take thy fill ere death
Indulge thee and rejoice,"
Too surely each succeeding day
Some lost delight we mourn;
The flowers all fade along our way
Till we, too, die forlorn.
— Keble
