Welsh Journals

Without charity, I am only a tinkling cymbal. My humiliations have been boons from God. Is my phase of egotism at an end ? The faculty of responding to each minute's necessity, precision, in a word, must infallibly find its recompense. I take my oath to accept the following rules henceforward as the eternal rules of my life To make my prayer every morning to God, the reservoir of all strength and all justice, to my father, to Mariette and to Poe, as intercessors to pray them to send me the necessary strength to fulfil all my obligations, and to concede my mother a long enough life to benefit my transformation; to work all day, or at least as long as my strength allows me to trust to God, that is to say to very Justice, for the success of my projects to make a new prayer every evening, asking of God life and strength for my mother and myself; to make, of all that I earn, four parts--one for current expenses, one for my creditors, one for my friends, and one for my mother-to obey the principles of the strictest sobriety, of which the first is the suppression of all stimulants, whatever they may be. Waller WHEN Edmund Waller was alive in England, The merchant princes hunted down the king Money called to his money. But he was a gentleman Who could only make up his mind to sing. So he turned a panegyric for Oliver Cromwell, And welcomed King Charles to London with a poem Politics and women brought nothing but trouble, Trouble, disaster, and exile to him Whom under a laurel John Dryden called father Of English verse whose couplets making love Between sheets of silver, lie coldly together, Lie cold to the Romantic ear, yet whisper of The great Romantic dream of the Augustan age Bowed in by Dryden the Classic perfection, And taming of the shrew, the English language At last meek and final in graceful subjection. DAVID WRIGHT.