Types of Children's Literature Part 19

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking, Seem here no painful inch to gain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making, Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

And not by eastern windows only, When daylight comes, comes in the light, In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly, But westward, look, the land is bright.

FOR A' THAT AN' A' THAT

Robert Burns

Is there for honest poverty That hings his head, an' a' that?

The coward slave, we pa.s.s him by,-- We dare be poor for a' that!

For a' that, an' a' that, Our toils obscure, an' a' that, The rank is but the guinea's stamp, The man's the gowd for a' that.

What though on hamely fare we dine, Wear hodden gray, an' a' that?

Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine-- A man's a man for a' that.

For a' that, an' a' that, Their tinsel show, an' a 'that: The honest man, tho' e'er sae poor, Is king o' men for a' that.

Ye see yon birkie ca'd "a lord,"

Wha' struts an' stares, an' a 'that?

Tho' hundreds worship at his word, He's but a cuif for a' that.

For a' that, an' a' that, His riband, star, an' a' that, The man o' independent mind He looks an' laughs at a' that.

A prince can mak' a belted knight, A marquis, duke, an' a' that!

But an honest man's aboon his might,-- Guid faith, he mauna fa' that!

For a' that, an' a' that, Their dignities an' a' that, The pith o' sense, an' pride o' worth, Are higher rank than a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may, (As come it will for a' that) That Sense and Worth, o'er a' the earth, Shall bear the gree, an' a' that.

For a' that, an' a' that, It's comin' yet, for a' that, That man to man, the world o'er, Shall brithers be for a' that.

INVICTUS

William Ernest Henly

Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever G.o.ds may be For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circ.u.mstance I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is b.l.o.o.d.y, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.

OPPORTUNITY

Edward Rowland Sill

This I beheld, or dreamed it in a dream:-- There spread a cloud of dust along a plain; And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords Shocked upon swords and shields. A prince's banner Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by foes.

A craven hung along the battle's edge, And thought, "Had I a sword of keener steel-- That blue blade that the king's son bears,--but this Blunt thing--!" he snapt and flung it from his hand, And lowering crept away and left the field.

Then came the king's son, wounded, sore bestead, And weaponless, and saw the broken sword, Hilt-buried in the dry and trodden sand, And ran and s.n.a.t.c.hed it, and with battle-shout Lifted afresh he hewed his enemy down, And saved a great cause that heroic day.

A PSALM OF LIFE

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, Life is but an empty dream!-- For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow, Is our destined end or way; But to act, that each tomorrow Finds us farther than today.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like m.u.f.fled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle, In the bivouac of Life, Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!

Let the dead Past bury its dead!

Act,--act in the living Present, Heart within, and G.o.d o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time;--

Footprints, that perhaps another, Sailing o'er life's solemn main, A forlorn and shipwrecked brother, Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate; Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labor and to wait.

AESOP

THE DOG AND THE SHADOW

A Dog, crossing a little rivulet with a piece of meat in his mouth, saw his own shadow represented in the clear mirror of the limpid stream; and, believing it to be another dog, who was carrying a larger piece of meat, he could not forbear catching at it; but was so far from getting anything by his greedy design, that he dropped the piece he had in his mouth, which immediately sank to the bottom, and was irrecoverably lost.