CHARLES MACKAY, LL.D. A TRAVELLER through a dusty road Strewed acorns on the lea; And one took root, and sprouted up, Love sought its shade at evening time, And Age was pleased, in heats of noon, The dormouse loved its dangling twigs; It stood a glory in its place, A little spring had lost its way He thought not of the deed he did, 2 There's much in this life, after all. He passed again, and lo! the well, By summers never dried, Had cooled ten thousand parching tongues, A dreamer dropped a random thought, The thought was small-its issue great; And cheers the valley still! A nameless man, amid a crowd It raised a brother from the dust, It saved a soul from death. O germ! O fount! O word of love! Ye were but little at the first, THERE'S MUCH IN THIS LIFE, AFTER ALL. J. BURBIDGE. HERE'S much in this life, after all, That's pleasant, if people would take it; On some of us trouble must fall, But sure I am, most of us make it. Let us look for the ups and the downs, And if we are met by the frowns, Believe that a smile is behind them. |