 | The Triangular Society |  |
29
ACORN PLANTING.
Bury the seed-germs deep, before the snow,
No pledge for amber grain or golden ears,
But for a fleet of ships, whose hulls shall grow
Out of these acorn shells—in fifty years.
No pledge for amber grain or golden ears,
But for a fleet of ships, whose hulls shall grow
Out of these acorn shells—in fifty years.
Who plants but for a summer-time, has need
Of steady faith to rule his doubts and fears;
How full of trust the soul that sows the seed
Whose harvest ripens not for fifty years!
Of steady faith to rule his doubts and fears;
How full of trust the soul that sows the seed
Whose harvest ripens not for fifty years!
Upon these germs shall Nature's forces wait,
Sunlight and dew shall nurse the tender shoots,
The landward breezes bring their misty freight,
And timely rains refresh the thirsty roots.
Sunlight and dew shall nurse the tender shoots,
The landward breezes bring their misty freight,
And timely rains refresh the thirsty roots.
On the slow marvel of their annual growth
Shall fickle skies alternate frown and smile,
And richest green and deepest scarlet both
In turn make beautiful the desert isle.
Shall fickle skies alternate frown and smile,
And richest green and deepest scarlet both
In turn make beautiful the desert isle.
How will the strong limbs writhe in woe and pain,
When winter tempests rise in howling wrath,
When roaring waves sweep inward from the main,
And sailors' wives turn pale beside the hearth!
When winter tempests rise in howling wrath,
When roaring waves sweep inward from the main,
And sailors' wives turn pale beside the hearth!
And when the noble boughs swing wide and high,
And the rejoicing trees wax tall and great,
Then, on their seeming immortality,
Will fall the sudden thunderbolt of fate,—
And the rejoicing trees wax tall and great,
Then, on their seeming immortality,
Will fall the sudden thunderbolt of fate,—
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Strong arms will level all their leafy grace,
Deft hands will hew and shape,—and spar and mast,
Keel, rib and beam and plank will find their place,
And lo! the tardy harvest smiles at last!
Deft hands will hew and shape,—and spar and mast,
Keel, rib and beam and plank will find their place,
And lo! the tardy harvest smiles at last!
More marvellous than aught in that old tale
Of dragons' teeth which sprouted men and spears,
The story of the vessels which shall sail
Out of these acorn cups—in fifty years!
Of dragons' teeth which sprouted men and spears,
The story of the vessels which shall sail
Out of these acorn cups—in fifty years!
Perchance some happy trunks, unscathed, may be
Spared in their splendid strength and stateliness
To greet the morning rising from the sea
New, yet the same—a hundred years from this.
Spared in their splendid strength and stateliness
To greet the morning rising from the sea
New, yet the same—a hundred years from this.
The squirrel, wisely lightening toil with mirth,
Will frisk and fill his cheeks, upon the bough,
Then, chattering, hide his treasures in the earth,
In autumn days, a hundred years from now.
Will frisk and fill his cheeks, upon the bough,
Then, chattering, hide his treasures in the earth,
In autumn days, a hundred years from now.
Shy, sweet-voiced birds will warble in their shade,
Far from all human stir and turbulence,
And rear their downy offspring unafraid—
The song-birds of a hundred summers hence.
Far from all human stir and turbulence,
And rear their downy offspring unafraid—
The song-birds of a hundred summers hence.
But you and I, my friend, who muse and smile
Over these fancies,—we shall be, by then,
Bowed, and dim-eyed, and wan;—so little while
Makes ships of acorns, and makes wrecks of men!
Over these fancies,—we shall be, by then,
Bowed, and dim-eyed, and wan;—so little while
Makes ships of acorns, and makes wrecks of men!
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