The child, the seed, the grain of corn, The acorn on the hill, Each for some separate end is born In season fit, and still Each must in strength arise to work the Almighty will.
So from the hearth the children flee, By that Almighty hand Austerely led; so one by sea Goes forth, and one by land; Nor aught of all men's sons escapes from that command.
So from the sally each obeys The unseen Almighty nod; So till the ending all their ways Blind-folded loth have trod: Nor knew their task at all, but were the tools of God.
And as the fervent smith of yore Beat out the glowing blade, Nor wielded in the front of war The weapons that he made, But in the tower at home still plied his ringing trade;
So like a sword the son shall roam On nobler missions sent; And as the smith remained at home In peaceful turret pent, So sits the while at home the mother well content.
Stevenson.
[CXXIV]
PRAYERS
God who created me Nimble and light of limb, In three elements free, To run, to ride, to swim: Not when the sense is dim, But now from the heart of joy, I would remember Him: Take the thanks of a boy.
Jesu, King and Lord, Whose are my foes to fight, Gird me with Thy sword Swift and sharp and bright. Thee would I serve if I might; And conquer if I can, From day-dawn till night, Take the strength of a man.
Spirit of Love and Truth, Breathing in grosser clay, The light and flame of youth, Delight of men in the fray, Wisdom in strength's decay; From pain, strife, wrong to be free This best gift I pray, Take my spirit to Thee.