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 some a coach and pair,
Will it tire you less while walking
To say it isn't fair?

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,
Nor the way some people do,
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,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.

Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
He made their glowing colors,
He made their tiny wings.

The rich man in his castle,
The poor man at his gate,
God made them, high or lowly,
And ordered their estate.

The purple-headed mountain,
The river running by,
The sunset, and the morning
That brightens up the sky.

The cold wind in the winter,
The pleasant summer sun,
The ripe fruits in the garden,—
He made them, every one.

The tall trees in the greenwood,

The meadows where we play,

The rushes by the water

We gather every day;

He gave us eyes to see them,
And lips that we might tell
How great is God Almighty

Who hath made all things well!

CECIL F. ALEXANDER

192

THE CREATION

Come, child, look upward to the sky,
The sun and moon behold!
Th'expanse of stars that sparkle high
Like specks of living gold.

Come, child, and now behold the earth
In varied beauty stand;

The product view of six days' work,—
How wondrous and how grand.

The fields, the meadows, and the plain,
The little laughing hills;

The waters, too, the mighty main,
The rivers and the rills.

Come, then, behold them all and say,

How came these things to be, That stand in view, whichever way

You turn yourself to see?

'Twas God who made the earth and sea,To whom the angels bow;

That God who made both you and me

That God who sees us now.

ANN TAYLOR

193

THE WAY TO BE HAPPY

How pleasant it is, at the end of the day,
No follies to have to repent,

But reflect on the past, and be able to say:
My time has been properly spent!

When I've finished my task with all patience and

care,

And been good, and obliging, and kind,
I lie on my pillow and sleep away there
With a happy and peaceable mind.

Instead of all this, if it must be confest
That I careless and idle have been,
I lie down as usual, and go to my rest,
But feel discontented within.

Then, as I dislike all the trouble I've had,
In future I'll try to prevent it,

For I never am naughty without being sad,
Or good without being contented.

JANE TAYLOR

194

FORBEARANCE

Why should we pluck the dewy rose

That scents the early morn,

Or strive to snare the happy bird
That warbles on the thorn?

We'll leave the flower to woo the sun,
The free bird in the air;

And walk through pleasures, grasping none,
Repaid if we forbear.

When scorners scorn, or foes revile,
Or friends look dark and shy,

We'll neither give them scorn for scorn,

Nor pass them coldly by;

We'll check the storm of rising pride,
And keep a temper fair,—
Warned by the Angel at our side,
That whispers to forbear.

And should the foe who did us wrong
Lie powerless in our hands,

We'll think no more of evil done,

To shame him where he stands; We'll strive to act a nobler part,— We'll pity-hear, and spare;— And win an entrance to his heart By all that we forbear.

CHARLES MACKAY

195

QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS

Who showed the little ant the way
Her narrow hole to bore,

And spend the pleasant summer day
In laying up her store?