Page:Poems of home and country (IA poemsofhomecount01smit).pdf/166

 In talk about politics take his full share;

And live, dainty soul, untroubled by care,

In fashion recherché, a life without labor,

Assured of success, like some fortunate neighbor;-

But no farmer grows rich who sets up for a shirk,

Or aims, when turned merchant, to live without work,

The land swarms with men of that gaseous body,

The self-styled élite, the American shoddy,

Raised up from the shop or the loom, in a day,

By arts reckoned honest, because it will pay;

But all things good and great, of human pursuit,

Arc of patience and time the slow-growing fruit.

The gourd that grows swiftly, as swiftly may die;

The wealth quickly won, as quickly may fly;

The coral, reared up from the depths of the waves,

Where sea-monsters sport in their dim-lighted caves,

The effort of ages, built, grain upon grain,

Is slowly constructed, but long shall remain.

So springs, with bright promise, the germ from the shell,

Where, hidden, it lay in its prison-like cell;

And, nurtured by sunlight, by heat, dew, and rain,

It waves on the hill, it smiles o'er the plain;

It drinks every morning the sweet-scented dew,

Still drinking, and growing, and drinking anew;

It bathes in the glory of noon-tide and even,

But slowly matures, like mortals for heaven.

Ile whom pain cannot conquer, nor hardship can foil,

Grows great by endurance, grows nobler by toil;

And fragrant with good are the paths which he trod,

And grand is his rest in the bosom of God!