Children's Literature Part 116

Then as Evening gave way to the shadows of Night, Their Watchman, the Glowworm, came out with a light.

"Then Home let us hasten while yet we can see, For no Watchman is waiting for you and for me."

So said little Robert, and pacing along, His merry Companions return'd in a throng.

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CAN YOU?

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Can you put the spider's web back in place That once has been swept away?

Can you put the apple again on the bough Which fell at our feet to-day?

Can you put the lily-cup back on the stem And cause it to live and grow?

Can you mend the b.u.t.terfly's broken wing That you crush with a hasty blow?

Can you put the bloom again on the grape And the grape again on the vine?

Can you put the dewdrops back on the flowers And make them sparkle and shine?

Can you put the petals back on the rose?

If you could, would it smell as sweet?

Can you put the flour again in the husk, And show me the ripened wheat?

Can you put the kernel again in the nut, Or the broken egg in the sh.e.l.l?

Can you put the honey back in the comb, And cover with wax each cell?

Can you put the perfume back in the vase When once it has sped away?

Can you put the corn-silk back on the corn, Or down on the catkins, say?

You think my questions are trifling, lad, Let me ask you another one: Can a hasty word be ever unsaid, Or a deed unkind, undone?

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In 1841 Robert Browning (1812-1889) published a drama in verse ent.i.tled _Pippa Pa.s.ses_. Pippa was a little girl who worked in the silkmills of an Italian city. When her one holiday of the year came, she arose early and went singing out of town to the hills to enjoy the day. Various people who were planning to do evil heard her songs as she pa.s.sed and did not do the wicked things they had intended to do. The next day Pippa returned to her usual work and never knew that her songs had changed the lives of many people. The following is the first of Pippa's songs.

PIPPA'S SONG

ROBERT BROWNING

The year's at the spring, And day's at the morn; Morning's at seven; The hill-side's dew-pearled; The lark's on the wing; The snail's on the thorn; G.o.d's in His Heaven-- All's right with the world!

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Charles Mackay (1814-1889) was an English journalist, poet, and miscellaneous writer. He was especially popular as a writer of songs, composing both words and music. Other well-known poems of his are "The Miller of Dee"

and "Tubal Cain." "Little and Great" presents a familiar idea through a series of ill.u.s.trations--the idea that great and lasting results may spring from unstudied deeds of helpfulness and love.

LITTLE AND GREAT

CHARLES MACKAY

A traveler on a dusty road Strewed acorns on the lea; And one took root and sprouted up, And grew into a tree.

Love sought its shade at evening-time, To breathe its early vows; And Age was pleased, in heats of noon, To bask beneath its boughs.

The dormouse loved its dangling twigs, The birds sweet music bore-- It stood a glory in its place, A blessing evermore.

A little spring had lost its way Amid the gra.s.s and fern; A pa.s.sing stranger scooped a well Where weary men might turn; He walled it in, and hung with care A ladle at the brink; He thought not of the deed he did, But judged that Toil might drink.

He pa.s.sed again; and lo! the well, By summer never dried, Had cooled ten thousand parched tongues, And saved a life beside.

A dreamer dropped a random thought; 'Twas old, and yet 'twas new; A simple fancy of the brain, But strong in being true.

It shone upon a genial mind, And, lo! its light became A lamp of life, a beacon ray, A monitory flame.

The thought was small; its issue great; A watch-fire on the hill, It sheds its radiance far adown, And cheers the valley still.

A nameless man, amid the crowd That thronged the daily mart, Let fall a word of hope and love, Unstudied from the heart,-- A whisper on the tumult thrown, A transitory breath,-- It raised a brother from the dust, It saved a soul from death.

O germ! O fount! O word of love!

O thought at random cast!

Ye were but little at the first, But mighty at the last.

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The following poem by Mrs. Hemans (1793-1835), an English poet, is remembered for its historic interest. Louis Casabianca, a Frenchman, served on a war ship that helped convey French troops to America, to aid the colonists during the Revolution. Later, when Napoleon attempted to conquer Egypt, he was captain of the admiral's flagship during the battle of the Nile. When the admiral was killed, he took command of the fleet at the moment of defeat.

He blew up his ship, after the crew had been saved, rather than surrender it. His ten-year-old son refused to leave and perished with his father.

CASABIANCA

FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS

The boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but him had fled; The flame that lit the battle's wreck Shone round him o'er the dead.

Yet beautiful and bright he stood, As born to rule the storm; A creature of heroic blood, A proud, though child-like form.

The flames rolled on; he would not go Without his father's word; That father, faint in death below, His voice no longer heard.

He called aloud, "Say, father, say, If yet my task be done!"

He knew not that the chieftain lay Unconscious of his son.

"Speak, father!" once again he cried, "If I may yet be gone!"

And but the booming shots replied, And fast the flames rolled on.

Upon his brow he felt their breath, And in his waving hair, And looked from that lone post of death In still, yet brave despair.

And shouted but once more aloud, "My father! must I stay?"

While o'er him, fast, through sail and shroud, The wreathing fires made way.

They wrapt the ship in splendor wild, They caught the flag on high, And streamed above the gallant child, Like banners in the sky.