Poems (Trask)/Humility
HUMILITY.
There is a little river Down below the meadow-land, Where the ripples beat in music On the snowy, pebbled sand, And the foam from tiny rapids Glistens like a spirit hand.
There are no wondrous cataracts To win a nation's gaze, No cruel, treacherous eddies, No wild and devious ways; But the sweet river waters fields, And gladdens lonely braes.
There frowns not on its borders The castle of a king; But down in shady valleys, Where bells of cattle ring, They say the little river Is a kind and blessed thing.
No hoary, stately cypresses, Crowned with clinging mistletoe, Lean o'er the quiet waters, Or are mirrored in their flow; And yet the river's power is felt In ocean's undertow.
And a single word of kindness, Spoken to a heart that's cold, May be priceless as the jewels Which princes wore of old!For a little smile of charity Is better than fine gold.