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BEETLES. 

 By Martin F. Tupper.* 



Every toiler to his toil ; 



Life is Work in Duty's hand, 

 Art and Nature both demand 



Daily labour, midnight oil : 



Every workman for his work ; 

 Art hath many, keen of skill, — 

 Nature showing whom she will 



Where her inner secrets lurk : 



Every scholar to his task; 

 Know'st thou not thy special page 

 To be conned from youth to age ? 



Ask that knowledge, meekly ask, 



Ask it of the Heaven above. 

 Ask it of the Earth below, 

 Ask thy heart and mind, and so 



Follow on in faith and love. 



Thou shall thus be taught to find 

 There is some good work and true 

 For thy proper hand to do. 



Suited to thy heart and mind. 



What is ours ? — Well, that depends ; 

 Mine, at this peculiar time 

 Is, — in reason tagged with rhyme 



Just to touch on what's my friend's : 



* These lines have already appeared in the columns of a Teignmouth 

 newspaper. They were written in compliance with a request for a few 

 verses on Beetles, for Mr. Wollaston's Note-book. 



