How many a weary traveller And many a little child would grieve Suppose the little breezes Upon a summer's day, Should think themselves too small to cool The traveller on his way; Who would not miss the smallest And softest ones that blow, And think they made a great mistake Suppose the little dew-drop The blade on which it rested, Before the day was done, How many deeds of kindness Although it has but little strength, And little wisdom, too! It wants a loving spirit Much more than strength, to prove How many things a child may do For others, by its love. ANONYMOUS 189 EVERY LITTLE HELPS Suppose a little twinkling star, Away in yonder sky, Should say, "What light can reach so far As yonder earth can fall; The others so much brighter are, I will not shine at all." Suppose a bright-green leaf that grows Upon the rose-bush near, Should say, "Because I'm not a rose, I will not linger here." Or that a dew-drop, fresh and bright Upon that fragrant flower, Suppose a little child should say, 66 Because I'm not a man, I will not try, in word or play, To do what good I can.' Dear child, each star some light can give, Though gleaming faintly there; Each rose-leaf helps the plant to live; Each dew-drop keeps it fair. And our good Father, who's in Heaven, And doth all creatures view, To every little child has given Kind deeds towards those with whom you live, Kind words and actions right, Shall, 'mid the world's worst darkness, give A little precious light. 190 SUPPOSE ANONYMOUS Suppose, my little lady, Your doll should break her head; And say you're glad 'twas Dolly's, Suppose you're dressed for walking, Because you scold and frown? For you to smile than pout, And so make sunshine in the house Suppose your task, my little man, Is very hard to get, Will it make it any easier For you to sit and fret? And wouldn't it be wiser Than waiting like a dunce, To go to work in earnest, And learn the thing at once? Suppose that some boys have a horse, And wouldn't it be nobler To keep your temper sweet, And in your heart be thankful You can walk upon your feet? And suppose the world don't please you, Do you think the whole creation Will be altered just for you? And isn't it, my boy or girl, The wisest, bravest plan, Whatever comes, or doesn't come, To do the best you can? PHOEBE CARY 191 ALL THINGS BRIGHT AND BEAUTIFUL All things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small, Each little flower that opens, The rich man in his castle, The purple-headed mountain, The cold wind in the winter, The tall trees in the greenwood, The meadows where we play, The rushes by the water We gather every day;— |