Be brave when days are bitter with despair,
Be true when you are made to suffer wrong;
Life's greatest joy is an accomplished care,
There's nothing ugly that can live for long.
BULB PLANTING TIME
Last night he said the dead were dead
And scoffed my faith to scorn;
I found him at a tulip bed
When I passed by at morn.
"O ho!" said I, "the frost is near
And mist is on the hills,
And yet I find you planting here
Tulips and daffodils."
"'Tis time to plant them now," he said,
"If they shall bloom in Spring";
"But every bulb," said I, "seems dead,
And such an ugly thing."
"The pulse of life I cannot feel,
The skin is dried and brown.
Now look!" a bulb beneath my heel
I crushed and trampled down.
In anger then he said to me:
"You've killed a lovely thing;
A scarlet blossom that would be
Some morning in the Spring."
"Last night a greater sin was thine,"
To him I slowly said;
"You trampled on the dead of mine
And told me they are dead."