For works with similar titles, see A Parable.
4648414Poems — A ParableFrances M. Sharpless

A PARABLE
Quoth a little brown seed, "I do not know
Why it is I must struggle and grow:
When the earth is so warm, and dark, and still
I would never leave it, had I my will.

"But something urges me still away;
I must strive and struggle; I cannot stay:
Though what awaits me above up there,
I do not know, and I do not care."

But ah! when the seed to blossom grew,
Rocked by the zephyrs and fed by the dew,
And gently unfolded to light and sun
Its delicate flowers, one by one—

It softly sang to each laughing breeze,
"Surely no blossoms were ever like these!
This glory of sunshine is life indeed
I could never have dreamed of, when but a seed."

And what are we, in this life of ours,
But seeds of God's future-blooming flowers?
Shall we murmur and grieve that we do not know
For what He would have us struggle and grow?

Nay! we will patiently work His will
Mid earth's mysterious gloom, until
Beneath His sunshine, and in His land
Our souls shall blossom—and understand.