“Steady as she goes,”
he said, but the sea was strong,
and the going, rough.
“Steady as she goes,”
he said, but the sea was strong,
and the going, rough.
Wherefore does the wind sing so
Whistling
Twisting
Roaring
Though hearts grow cool
Though walls grow thick
And though calluses grow all round
Let not life’s troubles harden you
Allow feeling
Allow truth
Allow light
A heavy heart is better
Than an empty one
There is much yet to do
Ah, but the trees!
Though it’s often slow
To build a strong foundation
Is to build quite well
Give not your words
But your ears
Give not your body
But an open heart
When the rain patters
You’ll find me in my armchair
With a book in hand
When summer winds blow hot and dry,
What does the lily feel?
When autumn leaves come from the sky,
Do they make for its meal?
And when the snow again does fall,
Does the lily despair?
Or does it know, despite it all
Next spring ’twill ‘gain be fair?
Whatever does the lily say
When frozen ‘neath the snow?
What does it feel when bright of day
Coaxes it from below?
Whatever can it think of when
Its leaves begin to spread?
And when its petals open, then
What thinks it of its bed?
“What ho!” quoth the wind
As it swirled to and fro
And spun all about
Bringing fresh and foreign air
How strange, I thought.