Poems (Stephens)/An old story

by Eliza Jane Stephens

AN OLD STORY.

A child once wandered in a wood
Where reigned the wildest solitude,
No sound of living thing he hoard,
Save now and then some little bird,
As it to try its tiny throat
Warbled a clear melodious note—
So as he slowly walked along
He sang some snatches of a song,
Softly he murmured the simple strain,
Softly echo repeats it again.

He sang again each self-same word,
And soon those very notes he heard;
They banished pleasure from his breast,
And filled it with a deep unrest.
For thinking 'twas some hateful boy
That sang to mock and to annoy,
He looked around with angry mien,
But, nowhere could such boy be seen;
Truly ho wished for a meeting there,
Insult like that he'd not tamely boar.

He shouted then in fiercer tone,
His words came quick, bad words alone;
Harsh names he called enough to wound
The heart of those who caught their sound.
All those soon fell upon his ear,
It maddened him those words to hoar,
And rushing from that lonely spot
He sought his mother in her cot,
Hoping for comfort, he made complaint,
E'en while his anger knew no restraint.

A boy he said had him abused,
Had mocked at him, and too had used,
Bad words he would not speak again,
Lest they should give her bosom pain,
But such an insult every look
Told plain his spirit ill could brook.
The mother gazed upon her child,
She took his hand, her manners mild,
Calming the wildly excited youth,
She bade him list to this simple truth.

'Twas but the echo of thy voice,
Had pleasant words but been thy choice,
Thou wouldst have them as clearly hoard,
The murmur of each gentle word.
Let this a lasting lesson be.
And may it useful prove to thee.
The world the feeling will return
That in thy bosom seems to burn—
Dost thou thy fellows unkindly treat,
Surely wilt thou the like usage meet.

But if thy actions speak of love
Thy gentleness their hearts will move,
And sunshine from thy spirit thrown
To gladden those who pine alone,
Will bring such joy into thy heart
As time and change ne'er make depart,
Will banish clouds from thee away
And make thy life one pleasant day.
Ever may this in thy memory live,
Thou wilt receive like that thou dost give.