Carroll Free Press

The Ills We Leave Behind us.

Oh! what the use of looking back,
As o'er life's road we travel,
Or pausing for a moment to
Some mystery unravel

The better way's to go ahead—
let fortune miss or find us,
And never cast a glance upon
The ills we leave behind us.

When sickness and sore toes combine
To make us sad and weary,
We ought to keep our spirits up,
Nor think that life is dreary;

But cast at once from off our souls
The chains of grief that bind us.
And bid a last farewell unto
The ills we leave behind us.

This world has pleasure for us all.
As well as care and sorrow ,
And though the skies may weep to-day,
They may shine to-morrow,

Then why should we let present woe!
Or former ones remind us
They're past, they're gone, so let's forget,
The ills we leave behind us

Then let old Time remove the stones
Where all our griefs are covered
And frighten memory's bird away,
Which o'er them long has hovered,

For when within his fatal net
Grim death has once entwined us,
We'll cease to think of present joys
And ills we leave behind us.

From the Southern Literary Messenger.