De La Salle Fifth Reader Part 25

One by one the sands are flowing, One by one the moments fall; Some are coming, some are going; Do not strive to grasp them all.

One by one thy duties wait thee; Let thy whole strength go to each; Let no future dreams elate thee, Learn thou first what these can teach.

One by one (bright gifts from Heaven) Joys are sent thee here below; Take them readily when given, Ready, too, to let them go.

One by one thy griefs shall meet thee; Do not fear an armed band; One will fade as others greet thee-- Shadows pa.s.sing through the land.

Do not look at life's long sorrow; See how small each moment's pain; G.o.d will help thee for to-morrow, So each day begin again.

Every hour that fleets so slowly Has its task to do or bear; Luminous the crown, and holy, When each gem is set with care.

Do not linger with regretting, Or for pa.s.sing hours despond; Nor, thy daily toil forgetting, Look too eagerly beyond.

Hours are golden links, G.o.d's token, Reaching heaven; but one by one Take them, lest the chain be broken Ere the pilgrimage be done.

_Adelaide A. Procter._

Choose any four lines of the poem, and tell what lesson each line teaches.

Name some great works that were done little by little.

What does "Rome was not built in a day" mean?

Tell what is meant by "He that despiseth small faults shall fall by little and little."

What is the real or literal meaning of the word _gem_?

Find the word in the poem, and tell what meaning it has there.

Explain the line--

"Let no future dreams elate thee."

What is meant by "building castles in the air?"

Study the whole poem line by line, and try to tell yourself what each line means. Nearly every single line of it teaches an important moral lesson. Find out what that lesson is.

Tell what you know of the author.

_39_

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THE BIRCH CANOE.

"Give me of your bark, O Birch Tree!

Of your yellow bark, O Birch Tree!

Growing by the rus.h.i.+ng river, Tall and stately in the valley!

I a light canoe will build me, That shall float upon the river, Like a yellow leaf in autumn, Like a yellow water lily!

Lay aside your cloak, O Birch Tree!

Lay aside your white-skin wrapper, For the summer time is coming, And the sun is warm in heaven, And you need no white-skin wrapper!"

Thus aloud cried Hiawatha In the solitary forest, When the birds were singing gayly, In the Moon of Leaves were singing.

And the tree with all its branches Rustled in the breeze of morning, Saying, with a sigh of patience, "Take my cloak, O Hiawatha!"

With his knife the tree he girdled; Just beneath its lowest branches, Just above the roots, he cut it, Till the sap came oozing outward; Down the trunk, from top to bottom, Sheer he cleft the bark asunder, With a wooden wedge he raised it, Stripped it from the trunk unbroken.

"Give me of your boughs, O Cedar!

Of your strong and pliant branches, My canoe to make more steady, Make more strong and firm beneath me!"

Through the summit of the Cedar Went a sound, a cry of horror, Went a murmur of resistance; But it whispered, bending downward, "Take my boughs, O Hiawatha!"

Down he hewed the boughs of cedar Shaped them straightway to a framework, Like two bows he formed and shaped them, Like two bended bows together.

"Give me of your roots, O Tamarack!

Of your fibrous roots, O Larch Tree!

My canoe to bind together, So to bind the ends together, That the water may not enter, That the river may not wet me!"

And the Larch with all its fibers s.h.i.+vered in the air of morning, Touched his forehead with its ta.s.sels, Said, with one long sigh of sorrow, "Take them all, O Hiawatha!"

From the earth he tore the fibers, Tore the tough roots of the Larch Tree.

Closely sewed the bark together, Bound it closely to the framework.

"Give me of your balm, O Fir Tree!

Of your balsam and your resin, So to close the seams together That the water may not enter, That the river may not wet me!"

And the Fir Tree, tall and somber, Sobbed through all its robes of darkness, Rattled like a sh.o.r.e with pebbles, Answered wailing, answered weeping, "Take my balm, O Hiawatha!"

And he took the tears of balsam, Took the resin of the Fir Tree, Smeared therewith each seam and fissure, Made each crevice safe from water.

"Give me of your quills, O Hedgehog!

I will make a necklace of them, Make a girdle for my beauty, And two stars to deck her bosom!"

From a hollow tree the Hedgehog, With his sleepy eyes looked at him, Shot his s.h.i.+ning quills, like arrows, Saying, with a drowsy murmur, Through the tangle of his whiskers, "Take my quills, O Hiawatha!"

From the ground the quills he gathered, All the little s.h.i.+ning arrows, Stained them red and blue and yellow, With the juice of roots and berries; Into his canoe he wrought them, Round its waist a s.h.i.+ning girdle.

Round its bows a gleaming necklace, On its breast two stars resplendent.

Thus the Birch Canoe was builded In the valley, by the river, In the bosom of the forest; And the forest's life was in it, All its mystery and its magic, All the lightness of the birch tree, All the toughness of the cedar, All the larch's supple sinews; And it floated on the river, Like a yellow leaf in autumn, Like a yellow water lily.

_Longfellow._

From "Song of Hiawatha." Houghton, Mifflin & Co., Publishers.