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Live Not For Self Alone

Live Not For Self Alone image
Parent Issue
Day
20
Month
July
Year
1888
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

I hojd it truth with thosc who tcach TptA Naturp is mnn's proper gulde, That lio who heeda her hceds his God, And will not stray whato'or betide. Ono sunny day, whon spring was young, i wandcred forth, in ponslve mood, Adówn the ineads, across the brook, luto tho forest's solitude. A niossy mound, an oak-tree's shade, Invited me to calm repose, And In the nook I sought that rest Whjch only woodlaud lover knows; And As I lay in raptaron ease, Encbanted with the blissful scene, A lily-ílower ni.v fjaze cspied, A Rtnall Whlte spot apon the green. I wist not why, but to my mind It scemed a niossenger divine, Ordainrd to tincl my wild retreat And minóle héavenly thoughts with mine. And so, I, sof tly spealdng, said: "ïbou com'st. :i very wolcome guost, ForI woujd fain inipart to theo Thp qufifies oL a troiibled breast. ThJ' ljfo ís but a month at most, Then liaunts which knew Üice know theo not; Tliou fadest into dust awa.v, ïbvself - thy grave - are soon forgot. fSb6 bee comes wooing to thy anus And Bings to thee a merry song, Thou yieldest him the sweets of íove, Not thinking he will do thee wrong. And yet, ere Ion;,', grown tired of thee, He flics awa.v to othor bowers; Porsalíis thee for some íaírer form, Some fresher faoe amqng the flowers. Bedecked in v drop diamouds bright, Thou greet'st at morn the rising sun; He plays tlie role of friendahlp well, Uut steels the Jewela one by ono. And thus it is, though brief thy Ufe, Tliouph unrequltea all thy love, Of woalth and beauty both bcreft, Thou still art like the modest dov Devoted, tender, pure and true, Resigned to thy allotted range, Not mourning o'er the countless things, 'J'liou hast not in thy power to change. Tlien tell me, gentle little flower, What reoonciles thee to thy fate?. Whm heaven-implanted truth is thine Which cheers thee in thy low estáte? How can'st thou live and die content, With th.v small part ín God's great plan? Wby art thou not displeasel and sadi Why art thou not, in short, like maní Why am I not like ímpious man, Who, disconteuted with his sphere, Ulasphemes his God aud curses those Who are his fellow-workers here, Whose vain ambition knows no bounds, But o'en would ínount the heaveuly thronet I can no other answer give - I bloom not for myself alone." Full many a year has como and gone, And suuimer's heat and winter's cold ; My messenger now sleeps in death, And I am grown infirm and oíd; But ever till I lay me down, And with tho flowers make coramon grave, My hcart will keep as sacred truth, Tho lesson which the lily gave.

Article

Subjects
Old News
Ann Arbor Democrat