 | Duganne's Poetical Works |  |
393
TO MY BOOT.
BOOT! that, trodden under foot,
Seekest not to change thy fate;—
Happy art thou, lowly boot!
Shining in thy humble state.
Seekest not to change thy fate;—
Happy art thou, lowly boot!
Shining in thy humble state.
In thy patient usefulness,
Guardest thou my feet from ill;
Though full heavily I press,
Uncomplaining art thou still.
Guardest thou my feet from ill;
Though full heavily I press,
Uncomplaining art thou still.
Oft the foot of Vanity
Teachest thou a lesson meet—
Yet no malice lives in thee,
Guardian of the tender feet!
Teachest thou a lesson meet—
Yet no malice lives in thee,
Guardian of the tender feet!
Even as upon thy form
Cast they now a covering black,
So the clouds of earthly storm
Darken aye the good man's track.
Cast they now a covering black,
So the clouds of earthly storm
Darken aye the good man's track.
Even as the driving brush
Rubbeth roughly over thee,
So the heavy tempests rush
O'er the good man's destiny.
Rubbeth roughly over thee,
So the heavy tempests rush
O'er the good man's destiny.
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Yet, as now each rougher blow
Makes thy form appear more bright,
So the storms of earthly woe
Clothe the good man's soul in light.
Makes thy form appear more bright,
So the storms of earthly woe
Clothe the good man's soul in light.
Fare thee well, my humble boot!
Even thou canst waken thought;—
Lowly though thou art—and mute—
Yet thou hast a lesson taught.
Even thou canst waken thought;—
Lowly though thou art—and mute—
Yet thou hast a lesson taught.
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