On Seeing a Lady's Gold Chain, among the Offerings at a Temperance Society

Would that thou hadst a voice, thou graceful toy,To tell me of the giver. Fancy paintsA young and radiant brow, and a clear eyeKindling with holier light, as thou wert thrownOff from the polish'd neck. Thou wert, perchance,Some favor'd gift, the talisman of Love,Or Friendship's bright memento. Still 'tis well,That thou art here. Henceforth that Love shall beRemember'd by the hallow'd deeds that blessAnd save mankind; nor could pure Friendship askA truer token than the heaven-wrought linksThat bind the soul to virtue.So go forth,Thou glittering gift, well barter'd for the wealthOf changeless memory. She who wore thee once,With the fond thrill of vanity, hath foundA better ornament, than gold or pearls,Or rich array.Blest stranger, still be trueTo mercy's angel-prompting. What thine handCan do for other s good, do with the might

Of woman's tenderness. With flowery linksOf soft persuasion, draw the erring soulBack from that beetling precipice, where foamsThe fiery flood of ruin. Toil to uprootThose weeds of Vice, that by the wayside spring,Or in the garden, 'mid its choicest flowers,Unblushingly intrude. Serenely showIn thine own saintly life, the blessednessOf that meek mind, which Temperance and PeaceFair-handed sisters, guide in duty's path,And crown with beauty, that survives the tomb.