Wisdom Unapplied

I would not waste my strength on those, As thou,—for summer hath a close, And pansies bloom not in the snows.

If I were thou, O working bee, And all that honey-gold I see Could delve from roses easily;

I would not build my eyrie-throne, As thou,—upon a crumbling stone, Which the next storm may trample down.

If I were thou, O gallant steed, With pawing hoof, and dancing head, And eye outrunning thine own speed;

I would not meeken to the rein, As thou,—nor smooth my nostril plain From the glad desert's snort and strain.

If I were thou, red-breasted bird, Whose song's at shut up window heard, Like Love's sweet Yes too long deferred;

"If I were thou who sing'st this song, Most wise for others; and most strong In seeing right, while doing wrong;

"I would not waste my cares, and choose, As thou,—to seek what thou must lose, Such gains as perish in the use.

"I would not work where none can win, As thou,—half way 'twixt grief and sin, But look above, and judge within.

"I would not let my pulse beat high, As thou,—toward fame's regality, Nor yet in love's great jeopardy.