 | Early and late poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
LITTLE THINGS.
Shall we strike a bargain, Fate?
And wilt thou to this agree?
Take whatever things are great,
Leave the little things to me!
And wilt thou to this agree?
Take whatever things are great,
Leave the little things to me!
Take the eagle, proud and dark,
Broad of shoulders, strong of wing;
Leave the robin, leave the lark,
'T is the little birds that sing!
Broad of shoulders, strong of wing;
Leave the robin, leave the lark,
'T is the little birds that sing!
141
Take the oak-wood, towering up,
With its top against the skies;
Leave one little acorn cup,
Therein all the forest lies!
With its top against the skies;
Leave one little acorn cup,
Therein all the forest lies!
Take the murmurous fountain-heads,
Take the river, winding slow;
But about my garden-beds
Leave the dewdrop, small and low.
Take the river, winding slow;
But about my garden-beds
Leave the dewdrop, small and low.
Winding waves are fine to view,
Sweet the fountain's silver call;
But the little drop of dew
Holds the sunshine, after all.
Sweet the fountain's silver call;
But the little drop of dew
Holds the sunshine, after all.
Take the sea, the great wide sea,
White with many a swelling sail;
Leave the little stream to me,
Sliding silent through the vale.
White with many a swelling sail;
Leave the little stream to me,
Sliding silent through the vale.
Poesy will find her theme
In thy grander portion, still,
'T is my little, unpraised stream
Of the meadow, turns the mill.
In thy grander portion, still,
'T is my little, unpraised stream
Of the meadow, turns the mill.
Take the palace, all ashine,
With its lofty halls and towers;
Let the little house be mine,
With its door-yard grass and flowers.
With its lofty halls and towers;
Let the little house be mine,
With its door-yard grass and flowers.
Take the lands, the royal lands,
All with parks and orchards bright;
Leave to me the little hands,
Clinging closely morn and night.
All with parks and orchards bright;
Leave to me the little hands,
Clinging closely morn and night.
142
Ah, for once be kindly, Fate,
To my harmless plan agree;
Take whatever things are great,
Leave the little things to me!
To my harmless plan agree;
Take whatever things are great,
Leave the little things to me!
| Early and late poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |