must surely see
That here, in the damp of the chilly ground,
Is never the place for the like of me."
Proud and idle, it went to sleep,
And it slept right on, though the warm rain fell,
And Nature found, when she came to look,
Nothing at all but an empty shell.
The other seed mused--"It cannot be right
Thus in the earth to so idly lie,
This life of ours will wasted be
And soon in this gloom, unused, must die.
_I_ shall not sleep--from this narrow shell
I'll find my way, and out of this night
I shall reach right up, until day by day
I nearer and nearer approach the light.
Already I feel the welcome heat
Warming the loam that around me lies,
Already I see in my sweetest dreams
The genial sun and the azure skies.
Oh! slumber then in your slothful ease,
By your foolish fancies alone deceived,
While the grandest victories Earth e'er knew
Are only waiting to be achieved."
So out from his shell the wee seed burst,
And stretched to the full of its graceful length,
While the light and warmth of the Summer sun
Added each day to its beauty and strength.
Its slender fingers of tender green
Catches the trellis here and there,
Higher and higher reaching up,
Branching out in the Summer air.
Oh, fair are the blossoms it bears for all,
And fragrant the breath of its golden bells;
Glad is the music they ring for you,
From the perfumed depths where the dewdrop dwells.
They wake you out of your sluggish sleep--
Their voices are ringing--Arise! Arise!
God gave you your life to use for Him,
And can you the gift of a King despise?
Your strength will waste if it is not used,
The life He has lent He will ask again,
Can you bring but the empty shell to Him,
And tell Him His gift has been in vain?

[Illustration: "EDITH"]

Edith

One flower within my garden grows--
My friend's is crowded,
But mine is rarer than the rose,
My skies unclouded.
I shield it when the north winds blow
So harsh across it,
I cannot let them kiss it so,
And rudely toss it.

So beautiful it is and frail,
I almost dread
The butterflies that soar and sail
So near its bed.
I envy not the wealth of flowers
Across the way;
My radiant flower exhales perfume
For me each day.

My gratitude to Heaven for this,
My one late flower;
And such a sense of rapturous bli