THE twig sprouteth, The moth outeth, The plant springeth, The bird singeth: Tho' little we sing to-day Yet are we better than they; Tho' growing with scarce a showing, Yet, please God, we are growing. The twig teacheth, The moth preacheth, The plant vaunteth, The bird chanteth, God's mercy overflowing, Merciful past man's knowing. Please God to keep us growing Till the awful day of mowing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DIBDIN'S GHOST by EUGENE FIELD THE INVITATION (TO TOM HUGHES) by CHARLES KINGSLEY THE INDIAN'S WELCOME TO THE PILGRIM FATHERS by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY SUNDAY UP THE RIVER: 15 by JAMES THOMSON (1834-1882) EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 23. SOONER WOUNDED THAN CURED by PHILIP AYRES BODY AND SOUL: A METAPHYSICAL ARGUMENT by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT THE SHEPHERD'S PIPE: SECOND ECLOGUE by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) FOUR SONGS BY WAY OF CHORUS TO A PLAY: 3. SEPARATION OF LOVERS by THOMAS CAREW |