Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/238

Then, as the bee gleans from the humblest flower
Sown by the wayside honey for her hive,
I treasured up the lesson, and when eve
Call'd home the labouring ox, and to its bed
Warn'd the young bird, and shut the lily's cup,
I took my little boy upon my knee,
And told him of the basket-bearer's toil,
And of the friend who help'd him.
                                                       When his eye
Swell'd full and round, and fix'd upon my face,
Taking the story to his inmost soul,
I said, "My son, be pitiful to all,
And aid them when thou canst.
                                                   For God hath sown
Sweet seeds within us, seeds of sympathy,
Whose buds are virtues, such as bloom for heaven.

If thy young sister weepeth, kiss the tear
From her smooth cheek, and sooth with tender words
Her swelling breast; or if a secret thorn
Is in thy brother's bosom, draw it thence;
Or if thy playmate sorroweth, lend an ear,
And share with sympathy his weight of wo.

And when thou art a man, my little one,
Still keep thy spirit open to the ills
Of foreigner and stranger, of the race
Whom Afric's sun hath darken'd, and of those
Poor red-brow'd exiles from our forest shades,
Where once they ruled supreme.
                                                        Thus shalt thou shun
That selfishness which, wrapp'd in its own gifts,