 | Moral songs |  |
THE OAK TREE.
Long ago in changeful Autumn,
When the leaves were turning brown,
From the tall oak's topmost branches
Fell a little acorn down.
When the leaves were turning brown,
From the tall oak's topmost branches
Fell a little acorn down.
And it tumbled by the pathway,
And a chance foot trod it deep
In the ground, where all the winter
In its shell it lay asleep.
And a chance foot trod it deep
In the ground, where all the winter
In its shell it lay asleep.
With the white snow lying over,
And the frost to hold it fast,
Till there came the mild spring weather,
When it burst its shell at last.
And the frost to hold it fast,
Till there came the mild spring weather,
When it burst its shell at last.
First shot up a sapling tender,
Scarcely seen above the ground;
Then a mimic little oak tree,
Spread its tiny arms around.
Scarcely seen above the ground;
Then a mimic little oak tree,
Spread its tiny arms around.
Many years the night dews nursed it,
Summers hot, and winters long,
The sweet sun looked bright upon it,
While it grew up tall and strong.
Summers hot, and winters long,
The sweet sun looked bright upon it,
While it grew up tall and strong.
Now it standeth like a giant,
Casting shadows broad and high,
With huge trunk and leafy branches,
Spreading up into the sky.
Casting shadows broad and high,
48
Spreading up into the sky.
There the squirrel loves to frolic,
There the wild birds rest at night,
There the cattle come for shelter,
In the noontime hot and bright.
There the wild birds rest at night,
There the cattle come for shelter,
In the noontime hot and bright.
Child, when haply thou art resting
'Neath the great oak's monster shade,
Think how little was the acorn,
Whence that mighty tree was made.
'Neath the great oak's monster shade,
Think how little was the acorn,
Whence that mighty tree was made.
Think how simple things and lowly,
Have a part in nature's plan,
How the great hath small beginnings
And the child will be a man.
Have a part in nature's plan,
How the great hath small beginnings
And the child will be a man.
Little efforts work great actions,
Lessons in our childhood taught
Mould the spirit of that temper,
Whereby noblest deeds are wrought.
Lessons in our childhood taught
Mould the spirit of that temper,
Whereby noblest deeds are wrought.
Cherish then the gifts of childhood,
Use them gently, guard them well;
For their future growth and greatness
Who can measure, who can tell?
Use them gently, guard them well;
For their future growth and greatness
Who can measure, who can tell?
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