  Upon the shining sands a man once strolled; And, looking out across the silvery sea, He saw the waste of waters, blue and cold, Where restless waves were climbing high and free. He paused awhile to watch the changing tide; But, tiring of the noise and sunlight’s glare, He sought a hidden path, and turned aside, Where sweet wild roses scent the balmy air. Then, growing weary as the morning passed, He filled his hands with blossoms that he found, And threw himself beneath an oak at last, Whose brawny branches brushed the grassy ground. He bared his head; and lying ’neath the tree, Arranging wealth of roses in his hands, He thought that, ’bove the branches, he could see The same blue ocean rolling to the sands. His mind to rose thoughts turned in dreamy way,— From untrained blossoms, blooming in the bowers, Whose simple petals fade within a day, Have been developed grander, sweeter flowers. The jacqueminot and all her sisters fair, Now clothed in colors bright and staying late, Because of culture and a proper care Have found a place within the garden gate. So too with life; the untrained children we Whose innocence shall fade within the hours,— With thoughts, like petals, simple, pure, and free,— And minds to be developed like the flowers. If rightly clothed, according to God’s plan, We soon discover, ere it is too late, That cultivation makes the grander man Who finds a place within the Heavenly gate. The dreamer woke; his roses, once so bright, Had drooped and faded in the heat of day; His rose thoughts had unfolded to the light To bless and help him all along life’s way. |
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