The Garden on the Sand

Once on a time some little hands 

Planted a garden on the sands;

And with a wish to keep it dry,

They raised a wall five inches high.

Within the wall and round the walks;

They made a fence of slender stalks;

And then they formed an arbour cool,

And dug in front a tiny pool.

Their beds were oval, round and square,

Thrown up and trimmed with decent care.

In these they planted laurel twigs,

And prickly holly, little springs

Of ash and poplar, and  for show,

Bright daffodils, and heart's ease low;

With pink-edged daisies by the score,

And buttercups and many more.

One rose they found with great delight,

And strack it in with all their might.

This finished, then they went away,

Resolved to come another day.

The sea, meanwhile, with solemn roar,

Approached and washed the sandy shore;

But all this time it did not touch

The little spot they loved so much;

And many strangers passing by,

The garden spied with smiling eye,

But no one ventured to disturb

A single plant, or flower, or herb.

Still, when the children came again, 

They found their labour all in vain;

The flowers were dropping side by side;

The rose and heart's ease-all had died;

No one could make them grow or shoot,

Because they had not got a root;

And then the soil it was so bed,

They must have withered if they had.

Now so it is that children fail,

Just like the garden in my tale;

They have good wishes, pleasant looks;

Are busy with their work and books;

Their conduct often gives delight,

And you may fancy all was right:

But by-and-by, with sad surprise,

We see how all this goodness dies;

Instead of being rich with fruit

They fade away for want of root.

Oh, pray, that He who only can

Renew the heart of fallen man,

May plant you in His pleasant ground,

Where trees of righteousness abound.

So, shall ye be, in early youth,

"Rooted and grounded in the truth!"

ANON