ERASTUS S. S. ROUSE. Erastus Seelet Smith Rouse, a native of Renssellaer county, New York, where he was born on the twenty-second day of February, 1795, is one of the few writers of the West who have made poetry the pastime and pleasure of mature age. He has been for twenty-five years an occasional contributor to the periodicals of Ohio. In 1852 he was the editor of The Western Home Visitor, published at Mount Vernon, Ohio, by E. A. Higgins & J. H. Knox. Mr. Rouse is now a merchant in Mount Vernon. "WORK! WORK! WORK!" Farmer of the sweaty brow ! Give not yet your labor o'er ; There's no time for idling now ; Toil ye on a little more. Ply your hands with busy care. While the sun is shining bright ; Briskly drive the polished share, Ere the gloaming of the night. Labor still — there still is need, Pulverize the fruitful soil, Bury the prolific seed, Earth shall well requite your toik All her millions must be fed, All dependent on the sod. All must look to you for bread. Faithful steward, be, of God. Soon the wint'ry days will come. Soon the fields be clad in snow. Then enjoy your happy home. Then your wearying toils forego. Reaper of the golden grain ! Guider of the polished plow ! Not yet from your toil refrain, There's no time for idling now. NOTHING. Hail Nothing ! thou shapeless, indefinite shade ! Thou least of all littleness, — mystical maid! Inspire me with nothing, of nothing to sing, And I'll sing about nothing till nothing shall ring. Nothing is nothing, — not easy defined, — Nonentity, — absence of matter and mind : — " Then nothing's vacuity ? " — yes, friend, you see. In absence of all things, there nothing will be. "And what is a vacuum ?" — friend, on my soul, 'Tis the absence of nothing, confined in a hole! "The world came from nothing," — but hark ye, my friend. Something from nothing I can't comprehend. Take nothing from nothing, and nothing remains. And still you have nothing at all for your pains. If naught comes from nothing, then can it be said That aught goes to nothing's impervious shade ? Let Avise nothingarians the matter explain; I'll nothing more say, since there's nothing to gain. ( 224 )
