Dropped by a passing train;
But the dead leaves caught, and swift and dark
Was its work on wood and plain.
It was only an unsound nail
That the workman used—ah me!
But the ship that else had weathered the gale
Went down in the deep, dark sea.
It was only a thoughtless word,
Scarce meant to be unkind;
But it pierced as a dart to the heart that heard,