 | Wood-notes and Church-bells |  |
249
JOTHAM'S PARABLE.
Once the tall trees of an aspiring wood,Besought an Olive tree to be their king—
Which answered, On my boughs birds sit and sing,
And fragrant “fatness” fills me, berry and bud;
The Fig-tree next—which said, My fruit is good,
And grateful “sweetness” to mankind I bring;
The Vine spoke last, Leave me to creep and cling,
Content to “cheer” the world with my rich blood.
The useless Bramble only would be crowned,
But soon in flaming ruin wrapped the trees,
And flung even stately Cedars on the ground:
Then let me ne'er forsake the narrow round
Of lowly duties framed to serve and please,
In fruits of love ambitious to abound.
| Wood-notes and Church-bells | |