University of Virginia Library


42

VI. A PROVISION FOR LIFE.

A Pine-tree bless'd its favour'd fate, because
Room to grow barely 'twixt the grudging jaws
Of one of the chapt sandstone's gravell'd flaws
It found: where early chance had cast its lot
On a bare rock, with leave to thrive, or not,
As later chance might choose, in that chill spot.
“Ah, what good fortune!” sigh'd the grateful tree,
“That in this fissure the wind planted me!
But for its inch of earth, what should I be?”
Fool! Thy good fortune was not the bestowing
Of that scant handful of earth's overflowing.
It was—and is—thy faculty of growing.