SERMON ON A PIN.

Give me that simple shining pin,So worthless in your hand,Here on my desk a place to winAnd as a lesson stand.Think you no moral may be foundIn such a common thing?That Fancy will not hover ‘roundAnd apt allusions bring?The Poet, with observing eyes,Saw sermons in a stone;So in this pin a sermon lies,Of philosophic tone.We see it first, where placed in rows,The pins lie side and side;So children, wrapped in sweet repose,In peaceful homes reside.Soon from the rest it travels west,Or east, by land or sea;So loving households part in questOf pleasure, fame or fee.Observe it well, with sober mind;The head, you see, is flat;Thus many heads in life you’ll find,Beneath a stylish hat.When new, how perfect, straight and neat,How finished, and how sound;So stands the upright man complete,With virtues circled ‘round.It has a point, and mission, too,’Tis seldom made in vain;So men should have a point in viewIf they would glory gain.If wrongly placed ‘twill mar your thought,When one would fain be still;So man, if badly bred or taught,Will treat his neighbor ill.Its life of constant service tendsTo keep it clean and bright;Thus men are kept, my loving friends,By application, right.’Tis polished, like a sword or spear,And in the light will shine;Thus men of learning do appear,Where wit and sense combine.It moves around from coat to dress,As trouble one befalls;Thus men should hearken to distress,And go where duty calls.It oft assists to hide one’s shameTill needles can repair;Thus should it be the Christian’s aimTo cover faults with care.If once ’tis sprung, ‘twill bend each day,And is no longer true;So thus in life, one step astrayWill often lead to two.When bent, and blunt, and black at last,Who stoops to lift the pin?So thus the crowds do hurry pastThe crooked slave of sin.

Give me that simple shining pin,

So worthless in your hand,

Here on my desk a place to win

And as a lesson stand.

Think you no moral may be found

In such a common thing?

That Fancy will not hover ‘round

And apt allusions bring?

The Poet, with observing eyes,Saw sermons in a stone;So in this pin a sermon lies,Of philosophic tone.We see it first, where placed in rows,The pins lie side and side;So children, wrapped in sweet repose,In peaceful homes reside.

The Poet, with observing eyes,

Saw sermons in a stone;

So in this pin a sermon lies,

Of philosophic tone.

We see it first, where placed in rows,

The pins lie side and side;

So children, wrapped in sweet repose,

In peaceful homes reside.

Soon from the rest it travels west,Or east, by land or sea;So loving households part in questOf pleasure, fame or fee.Observe it well, with sober mind;The head, you see, is flat;Thus many heads in life you’ll find,Beneath a stylish hat.

Soon from the rest it travels west,

Or east, by land or sea;

So loving households part in quest

Of pleasure, fame or fee.

Observe it well, with sober mind;

The head, you see, is flat;

Thus many heads in life you’ll find,

Beneath a stylish hat.

When new, how perfect, straight and neat,How finished, and how sound;So stands the upright man complete,With virtues circled ‘round.It has a point, and mission, too,’Tis seldom made in vain;So men should have a point in viewIf they would glory gain.

When new, how perfect, straight and neat,

How finished, and how sound;

So stands the upright man complete,

With virtues circled ‘round.

It has a point, and mission, too,

’Tis seldom made in vain;

So men should have a point in view

If they would glory gain.

If wrongly placed ‘twill mar your thought,When one would fain be still;So man, if badly bred or taught,Will treat his neighbor ill.Its life of constant service tendsTo keep it clean and bright;Thus men are kept, my loving friends,By application, right.

If wrongly placed ‘twill mar your thought,

When one would fain be still;

So man, if badly bred or taught,

Will treat his neighbor ill.

Its life of constant service tends

To keep it clean and bright;

Thus men are kept, my loving friends,

By application, right.

’Tis polished, like a sword or spear,And in the light will shine;Thus men of learning do appear,Where wit and sense combine.It moves around from coat to dress,As trouble one befalls;Thus men should hearken to distress,And go where duty calls.

’Tis polished, like a sword or spear,

And in the light will shine;

Thus men of learning do appear,

Where wit and sense combine.

It moves around from coat to dress,

As trouble one befalls;

Thus men should hearken to distress,

And go where duty calls.

It oft assists to hide one’s shameTill needles can repair;Thus should it be the Christian’s aimTo cover faults with care.

It oft assists to hide one’s shame

Till needles can repair;

Thus should it be the Christian’s aim

To cover faults with care.

If once ’tis sprung, ‘twill bend each day,And is no longer true;So thus in life, one step astrayWill often lead to two.When bent, and blunt, and black at last,Who stoops to lift the pin?So thus the crowds do hurry pastThe crooked slave of sin.

If once ’tis sprung, ‘twill bend each day,

And is no longer true;

So thus in life, one step astray

Will often lead to two.

When bent, and blunt, and black at last,

Who stoops to lift the pin?

So thus the crowds do hurry past

The crooked slave of sin.

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