The Home Book of Verse Volume Iv Part 36

One day, through the primeval wood, A calf walked home, as good calves should; But made a trail all bent askew, A crooked trail as all calves do.

Since then two hundred years have fled, And, I infer, the calf is dead.

But still he left behind his trail, And thereby hangs my moral tale.

The trail was taken up next day By a lone dog that pa.s.sed that way; And then a wise bell-wether sheep Pursued the trail o'er vale and steep, And drew the flock behind him, too, As good bell-wethers always do.

And from that day, o'er hill and glade, Through those old woods a path was made; And many men wound in and out, And dodged, and turned, and bent about And uttered words of righteous wrath Because 'twas such a crooked path.

But still they followed--do not laugh-- The first migrations of that calf, And through this winding wood-way stalked, Because he wobbled when he walked.

This forest path became a lane, That bent, and turned, and turned again; This crooked lane became a road, Where many a poor horse with his load Toiled on beneath the burning sun, And traveled some three miles in one.

And thus a century and a half They trod the footsteps of that calf.

The years pa.s.sed on in swiftness fleet, The road became a village street; And this, before men were aware, A city's crowded thoroughfare; And soon the central street was this Of a renowned metropolis; And men two centuries and a half Trod in the footsteps of that calf.

Each day a hundred thousand rout Followed the zigzag calf about; And o'er his crooked journey went The traffic of a continent.

A hundred thousand men were led By one calf near three centuries dead.

They followed still his crooked way, And lost one hundred years a day; For thus such reverence is lent To well-established precedent.

A moral lesson this might teach, Were I ordained and called to preach; For men are p.r.o.ne to go it blind Along the calf-paths of the mind, And work away from sun to sun To do what other men have done.

They follow in the beaten track, And out and in, and forth and back, And still their devious course pursue, To keep the path that others do.

But how the wise old wood-G.o.ds laugh, Who saw the first primeval calf!

Ah! many things this tale might teach,-- But I am not ordained to preach.

Sam Walter Foss [1858-1911]

WEDDED BLISS

"O come and be my mate!" said the Eagle to the Hen; "I love to soar, but then I want my mate to rest Forever in the nest!"

Said the Hen, I cannot fly, I have no wish to try, But I joy to see my mate careering through the sky!"

They wed, and cried, "Ah, this is Love, my own!"

And the Hen sat, and the Eagle soared, alone.

"O come and be my mate!" said the Lion to the Sheep; "My love for you is deep!

I slay,--a Lion should,-- But you are mild and good!"

Said the Sheep, "I do no ill-- Could not, had I the will-- But I joy to see my mate pursue, devour and kill."

They wed, and cried, "Ah, this is Love, my own!"

And the Sheep browsed, the Lion prowled, alone.

"O come and be my mate!" said the Salmon to the Clam; "You are not wise, but I am.

I know the sea and stream as well; You know nothing but your sh.e.l.l."

Said the Clam, "I'm slow of motion, But my love is all devotion, And I joy to have my mate traverse lake and stream and ocean!"

They wed, and cried, "Ah, this is Love, my own!"

And the Clam sucked, the Salmon swam, alone.

Charlotte Perkins Stetson Gilman [1860-1935}

PARADISE: A HINDOO LEGEND

A Hindoo died; a happy thing to do, When fifty years united to a shrew.

Released, he hopefully for entrance cries Before the gates of Brahma's paradise.

"Hast been through purgatory?" Brahma said.

"I have been married!" and he hung his head.

"Come in! come in! and welcome, too, my son!

Marriage and purgatory are as one."

In bliss extreme he entered heaven's door, And knew the peace he ne'er had known before.

He scarce had entered in the gardens fair, Another Hindoo asked admission there.

The self-same question Brahma asked again: "Hast been through purgatory?" "No; what then?"

"Thou canst not enter!" did the G.o.d reply.

"He who went in was there no more than I."

"All that is true, but he has married been, And so on earth has suffered for all his sin."

"Married? Tis well, for I've been married twice."

"Begone! We'll have no fools, in paradise!"

George Birdseye [1844-1919]

AD CHLOEN, M. A.

(Fresh From Her Cambridge Examination)

Lady, very fair are you, And your eyes are very blue, And your hose; And your brow is like the snow, And the various things you know Goodness knows.

And the rose-flush on your cheek, And your algebra and Greek Perfect are; And that loving l.u.s.trous eye Recognizes in the sky Every star.

You have pouting piquant lips, You can doubtless an eclipse Calculate; But for your cerulean hue, I had certainly from you Met my fate.

If by an arrangement dual I were Adams mixed with Whewell, Then some day I, as wooer, perhaps might come To so sweet an Artium Magistra.

Mortimer Collins [1827-1876]

"AS LIKE THE WOMAN AS YOU CAN"

"As like the Woman as you can"-- (Thus the New Adam was beguiled)-- "So shall you touch the Perfect Man"-- (G.o.d in the Garden heard and smiled).

"Your father perished with his day: A clot of pa.s.sions fierce and blind, He fought, he hacked, he crushed his way: Your muscles, Child, must be of mind.