 | Knitting-work |  |
CONSTANT DROPPING WEARS.
There 's an old saying — very old and trite —
That constant dropping wears away a stone;
But this conclusion of accretive might
Is not confined to rugged stones alone.
The stoutest spirit sinks beneath the word
That constantly in peevish cadence swells,
And, worn and weary, it is wildly stirred,
Or, banished peace, in recklessness rebels.
Indifference blunts the force of captious flings,
Which all innocuous fail the heart to move;
But, O, how sharp the cruel barb that wings,
Thrown by the hand of those we fondly love!
Such drops as those, the world has ever shown,
May, by their dropping, turn the heart to stone.
That constant dropping wears away a stone;
But this conclusion of accretive might
Is not confined to rugged stones alone.
The stoutest spirit sinks beneath the word
That constantly in peevish cadence swells,
And, worn and weary, it is wildly stirred,
Or, banished peace, in recklessness rebels.
Indifference blunts the force of captious flings,
Which all innocuous fail the heart to move;
But, O, how sharp the cruel barb that wings,
Thrown by the hand of those we fondly love!
Such drops as those, the world has ever shown,
May, by their dropping, turn the heart to stone.
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