THE TREE'S LESSON.
221
The sower must lie in his bed of dust,
As slept that brown seed long ago;
But of good deed done, 'neath that tropical sun,
Will thousands of grateful hearts know.
As slept that brown seed long ago;
But of good deed done, 'neath that tropical sun,
Will thousands of grateful hearts know.
The Upas and deadly night-shade fling
Their withering chill on the air;
But this tree's pure breath is a foe to death—
It, balm-laden, banishes care.
Their withering chill on the air;
But this tree's pure breath is a foe to death—
It, balm-laden, banishes care.
Youth, manhood, and age 'neath its branches repose,
As glide the years silently by;
While the sower, perchance, looks smilingly down
From the "sky above the sky."
As glide the years silently by;
While the sower, perchance, looks smilingly down
From the "sky above the sky."
O pilgrim, so weary—O toiler, so faint—
Take heart, for this wonderful tree,
Though voiceless, hath speech, though dumb, it can teach,—
A mentor-friend proving to thee.
Take heart, for this wonderful tree,
Though voiceless, hath speech, though dumb, it can teach,—
A mentor-friend proving to thee.
Its lesson so holy I leave thee to guess,
E'en now hath thy soul it divined,—
In meekness, faith, patience, in silence, hope, trust,
Toil on for the good of thy kind.
E'en now hath thy soul it divined,—
In meekness, faith, patience, in silence, hope, trust,
Toil on for the good of thy kind.
