THE SEEDLING
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s a quiet little seedlingLay within its darksome bed,To itself it fell a-talking,And this is what it said: "I am not so very robust,But I 'll do the best I can;"And the seedling from that momentIts work of life began. So it pushed a little leafletUp into the light of day,To examine the surroundingsAnd show the rest the way. The leaflet liked the prospect,So it called its brother, Stem;Then two other leaflets heard it,And quickly followed them. To be sure, the haste and hurryMade the seedling sweat and pant;But almost before it knew itIt found itself a plant. The sunshine poured upon it,And the clouds they gave a shower;And the little plant kept growingTill it found itself a flower. Little folks, be like the seedling,Always do the best you can;Every child must share life's laborJust as well as every man. And the sun and showers will help youThrough the lonesome, struggling hours,Till you raise to light and beautyVirtue's fair, unfading flowers.
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