MUSINGS.
I sat by my window; watchingThe flakes of the falling snow,Flitting hither and thither,As though asking, “which way shall I go?”And I likened them in their motion,To the fate of our human lives—Which are never at rest, but kept tossing,Wherever the tempest drives.Tossed by temptation and trial,By necessity, dire and stern.Jostled, and pushed, and crowded,Till we know not which way to turn.Then I thought, as each tiny snowflake,Drifts at last to the place of its rest,So, sometime, will each of earth’s children,Find the work and the place that is best.
I sat by my window; watchingThe flakes of the falling snow,Flitting hither and thither,As though asking, “which way shall I go?”And I likened them in their motion,To the fate of our human lives—Which are never at rest, but kept tossing,Wherever the tempest drives.Tossed by temptation and trial,By necessity, dire and stern.Jostled, and pushed, and crowded,Till we know not which way to turn.Then I thought, as each tiny snowflake,Drifts at last to the place of its rest,So, sometime, will each of earth’s children,Find the work and the place that is best.
I sat by my window; watchingThe flakes of the falling snow,Flitting hither and thither,As though asking, “which way shall I go?”And I likened them in their motion,To the fate of our human lives—Which are never at rest, but kept tossing,Wherever the tempest drives.Tossed by temptation and trial,By necessity, dire and stern.Jostled, and pushed, and crowded,Till we know not which way to turn.Then I thought, as each tiny snowflake,Drifts at last to the place of its rest,So, sometime, will each of earth’s children,Find the work and the place that is best.
I sat by my window; watching
The flakes of the falling snow,
Flitting hither and thither,
As though asking, “which way shall I go?”
And I likened them in their motion,
To the fate of our human lives—
Which are never at rest, but kept tossing,
Wherever the tempest drives.
Tossed by temptation and trial,
By necessity, dire and stern.
Jostled, and pushed, and crowded,
Till we know not which way to turn.
Then I thought, as each tiny snowflake,
Drifts at last to the place of its rest,
So, sometime, will each of earth’s children,
Find the work and the place that is best.