 | Original poems for my children |  |
MUSTARD SEED.
Behold this ground! There 's nothing here
Save earth;—nor has there been this year,
Grass, moss, nor flower, nor weed;
Yet in a week, here shall be seen
Your name, dear George, in leaves of green;
Springing from this round seed.
Save earth;—nor has there been this year,
Grass, moss, nor flower, nor weed;
Yet in a week, here shall be seen
Your name, dear George, in leaves of green;
Springing from this round seed.
Now clear and plain before your sight,
In this dark mould your name I 'll write.
There 's every letter clear—
Now fill the lines with mustard seed—
Well done, a dunce your name might read,
So plain it doth appear.
In this dark mould your name I 'll write.
There 's every letter clear—
Now fill the lines with mustard seed—
Well done, a dunce your name might read,
So plain it doth appear.
Cover the seeds beneath this mould,
That looks so dark, and damp, and cold,
Until not one is seen.
And in a week, I dare be bound,
The name of George will here be found
In double leaves of green.
That looks so dark, and damp, and cold,
Until not one is seen.
And in a week, I dare be bound,
The name of George will here be found
In double leaves of green.
Though I can write your name in gold,
And many a curl and flourish bold
Around the letters throw:
Were I a thousand years to try,
To make a plant but one inch high,
I could not make it grow.
And many a curl and flourish bold
Around the letters throw:
Were I a thousand years to try,
To make a plant but one inch high,
I could not make it grow.
When one short week had gone and past,
The seed which in the earth George cast
Rose up and bore his name.
The plainest print could not be better,
Up every stroke and every letter
In double green leaves came.
The seed which in the earth George cast
Rose up and bore his name.
The plainest print could not be better,
Up every stroke and every letter
In double green leaves came.
Said George, “You wrote my name, I know;
I sowed the seed—who made it grow?”
Said I, “That power unseen,
Who caused the sun to shed his light,
The rounded moon to shine by night,
And hung the stars between.
I sowed the seed—who made it grow?”
Said I, “That power unseen,
Who caused the sun to shed his light,
The rounded moon to shine by night,
And hung the stars between.
“That God who made the oak-tree tall,
The velvet moss upon the wall,
The little daisy white;
The elephant, and spouting whale,
Small harvest-mouse and hornëd snail,
And the brown dust-like mite.
The velvet moss upon the wall,
The little daisy white;
The elephant, and spouting whale,
Small harvest-mouse and hornëd snail,
And the brown dust-like mite.
“The simplest flower by which we pass,
Deep buried in the summer grass,
Man hath not skill to make.
Although he 's power to build a town,
He cannot form the thistle's down,
Which every wind doth shake.
Deep buried in the summer grass,
Man hath not skill to make.
Although he 's power to build a town,
He cannot form the thistle's down,
Which every wind doth shake.
“Then ever bear in mind my child,
That there grows not by wayside wild,
Upon the lowliest sod,
A blade of grass, a common weed,
A tuft of moss, or naked reed.
But 'tis the Work of God.”
That there grows not by wayside wild,
Upon the lowliest sod,
A blade of grass, a common weed,
A tuft of moss, or naked reed.
But 'tis the Work of God.”
| Original poems for my children | |