SEE to your book, young lady; let it be An index to your life -- each page be pure, By vanity uncolored, and by vice Unspotted. Cheerful be each modest leaf, Not rude; and pious be each written page, Without hypocrisy, be it devout; Without moroseness, be it serious; If sportive, innocent: and if a tear Blot its white margin, let it drop for those Whose wickedness needs pity more than hate. Hate no one -- hate their vices, not themselves. Spare many leaves for charity -- that flower That better than the rose's first white bud Becomes a woman's bosom. There we seek And there we find it first. Such be your book, And such, young lady, always may you be. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SEA LOVER by SARA TEASDALE TWO SONGS: 2 by CECIL DAY LEWIS A VISION UPON [THIS CONCEIT] OF THE FAERIE QUEENE (2) by WALTER RALEIGH THE FLIGHT OF TIME by J. K. BLAKE ROSE D'AMOUR by MATHILDE BLIND HARVESTERS by MARGARET PERKINS BRIGGS EPITAPH ON MRS. ANNE PRIDEAUX, DAUGHTER OF DR. PRIDEAUX by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) ARISTOPHANES' APOLOGY; BEING THE LAST ADVENTURE OF BALAUSTION: PART 1 by ROBERT BROWNING |