THE TWO RAINDROPS
Said a drop to a drop, "Just look at me!
I'm the finest rain-drop you ever did see:
I have lived ten seconds at least on my pane;
Swelling and filling and swelling again.
"All the little rain-drops unto me run,
I watch them and catch them and suck them up each one:
All the pretty children stand and at me stare;
Pointing with their fingers—'That's the biggest drop there.'"
"Yet you are but a drop," the small drop replied;
"I don't myself see much cause for pride:
The bigger you swell up,—we know well, my friend,—
The faster you run down the sooner you'll end.
"For me, I'm contented outside on my ledge,
Hearing the patter of rain in the hedge;
Looking at the firelight and the children fair,—
Whether they look at me, I'm sure I don't care."
"Sir," cried the first drop, "your talk is but dull;
I can't wait to listen, for I'm almost full;
You'll run a race with me?—No?—Then 'tis plain
I am the largest drop in the whole pane."
Off ran the big drop, at first rather slow:
Then faster and faster, as drops will, you know:
Raced down the window-pane, like hundreds before,
Just reached the window-sill—one splash—and was o'er.
THE YEAR'S END
So grows the rising year, and so declines
By months, weeks, days, unto its peaceful end
Even as by slow and ever-varying signs
Through childhood, youth, our solemn steps we bend
Up to the crown of life, and thence descend.
Great Father, who of every one takest care,
From him on whom full ninety years are piled
To the young babe, just taught to lisp a prayer
About the "Gentle Jesus, meek and mild,"
Who children loves, being once himself a child,—
O make us day by day like Him to grow;
More pure and good, more dutiful and meek;
Because He loves those who obey Him so;
Because His love is the best thing to seek,
Because without His love, all loves are weak,—
All earthly joys are miserable and poor,
All earthly goodness quickly droops and dies,
Like rootless flowers you plant in gardens—sure
That they will flourish—till in mid-day skies
The sun burns, and they fade before your eyes.
O God, who art alone the life and light
Of this strange world to which as babes we come,
Keep Thou us always children in Thy sight:
Guide us from year to year, thro' shine and gloom
And at our year's end, Father, take us home.
RUNNING AFTER THE RAINBOW
"Why thus aside your playthings throw,
Over the wet lawn hurrying so?
Where are you going, I want to know?"
"I'm running after the rainbow."
"Little boy, with your bright brown eyes
Full of an innocent surprise,
Stop a minute, my Arthur wise,
What do you want with the rainbow?"
Arthur paused in his headlong race,
Turned to his mother his hot, young face,
"Mother, I want to reach the place
At either end of the rainbow.
"Nurse says, wherever it meets the ground.
Such beautiful things may oft be found
Buried below, or scattered round,
If one can but catch the rainbow.
"O please don't hinder me, mother dear,
It will all be gone while I stay here;"
So with many a hope and not one fear,
The child ran after the rainbow.
Over the damp grass, ankle deep,
Clambering up the hilly steep,
And the wood where the birds were going to sleep,
But he couldn't catch the rainbow.
And when he came out at the wood's far side,
The sun was setting in golden pride,
There were plenty of clouds all rainbow dyed,
But not a sign of the rainbow.
Said Arthur, sobbing, as home he went,
"I wish I had thought what mother meant;
I wish I had only been content,
And not ran after the rainbow."
And as he came sadly down the hill,
Stood mother scolding—but smiling still,
And hugged him up close, as mothers will:
So he quite forgot the rainbow.
DICK AND I
We're going to a party, my brother Dick and I:
The best, grandest party we ever did try:
And I'm very happy—but Dick is so shy!
I've got a white ball-dress, and flowers in my hair,
And a scarf, with a brooch too, mamma let me wear:
Silk stockings, and shoes with high heels, I declare!
There is to be music—a real soldier's band:
And I mean to waltz, and eat ice, and be fanned,
Like a grown-up young lady, the first in the land.
But Dick is so stupid, so silent and shy:
Has never learnt dancing, so says he won't try—
Yet Dick is both older and wiser than I.
And I'm fond of my brother—this darling old Dick:
I'll hunt him in corners wherever he stick,
He's bad at a party—but at school he's a brick!
So good at his Latin, at cricket, football,
Whatever he tries at. And then he's so tall!
Yet at play with the children he's best of us all.
And his going to the party is just to please me,
Poor Dick! so good-natured. How dull he will be!
But he says I shall dance "like a wave o' the sea."
That's Shakespeare, his Shakespeare, he worships him so.
Our Dick he writes poems, though none will he show;
I found out his secret, but I won't tell: no, no.
And when he's a great man, a poet you see,
O dear! what a proud little sister I'll be;
Hark! there comes the carriage. We're off, Dick and me.