_For the Table Book._
Thou art like our existence, and thy waves,
Illustrious river! seem the very type
Of those events which drive us to our graves,
Or rudely place us in misfortune’s gripe!
Thou art an emblem of our changeful state,
Smooth when the summer magnifies thy charms.
But rough and cheerless when the winds create
Rebellion, and remorseless winter arms
The elements with ruin! In thy course
The ups and downs of fortune we may trace--
One wave submitting to another’s force,
The boldest always foremost in the race:
And thus it is with life--sometimes its calm
Is pregnant with enjoyment’s sweetest balm;
At other times, its tempests drive us down
The steep of desolation, while the frown
Of malice haunts us, till the friendlier tomb
Protects the victim she would fain consume!