 | Moral songs |  |
THE OLD MAN AND THE CHILD.
The old man sits on the green bench,
Beside the cottage door,
Beneath the porch of trellised work,
With woodbine covered o'er.
Beside the cottage door,
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With woodbine covered o'er.
The village children on the green,
Are playing in his sight,
The old man watches quietly
Their merry gambols light.
Are playing in his sight,
The old man watches quietly
Their merry gambols light.
He watches with a pleasant smile,
But never moveth he;
One little child of all the group
Has crept unto his knee.
But never moveth he;
One little child of all the group
Has crept unto his knee.
“Old man, you bask upon the bench,
You never run or play,
He says, “How can you bear to sit
So still the livelong day?
You never run or play,
He says, “How can you bear to sit
So still the livelong day?
“How very weary I should be,
If I were sitting there!”
The old man lays his withered hand
Upon the boy's bright hair.
If I were sitting there!”
The old man lays his withered hand
Upon the boy's bright hair.
“When you are tired with sport and play,
My child, and out of breath,
Do you not sit upon the turf,
To rest awhile?” he saith.
My child, and out of breath,
Do you not sit upon the turf,
To rest awhile?” he saith.
“And I have played a long long game,
And I am wearied quite;
The bird that soared so high at dawn,
Sits on the bough at night.
And I am wearied quite;
The bird that soared so high at dawn,
Sits on the bough at night.
“The sky at morn that gleamed so bright,
Grows sober grey at eve,
And yet the light fades tenderly,
The wild bird doth not grieve.
Grows sober grey at eve,
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The wild bird doth not grieve.
“As dear to me the quiet hour,
The calmness of repose,
As to your merry heart the life
That in your young blood glows.
The calmness of repose,
As to your merry heart the life
That in your young blood glows.
“'Tis thus with kind and even hand,
Our God has tempered life;
To youth He giveth eager joy,
And ardour for the strife:
Our God has tempered life;
To youth He giveth eager joy,
And ardour for the strife:
“To mellow age its thoughtful rest
Of body and of mind,
The earnest gaze, the solemn pause,
Ere earth be left behind.
Of body and of mind,
The earnest gaze, the solemn pause,
Ere earth be left behind.
“Then dream not as alone I sit,
A weary lot I bear—”
Lo as he speaks a burst of mirth
Comes ringing through the air.
A weary lot I bear—”
Lo as he speaks a burst of mirth
Comes ringing through the air.
The little child doth wondering
Back to his playmates run;
And still the old man watching them,
Sits quiet in the sun.
Back to his playmates run;
And still the old man watching them,
Sits quiet in the sun.
| Moral songs | |