LITTLE BY LITTLE.
WHEN the new years come, and the old years go,
How, little by little, all things grow!
All things grow—and all decay—
Little by little passing away.
Little by little, on fertile plain,
Ripen the harvests of golden grain,
Waving and flashing in the sun
When the summer days are done;
Little by little they ripen so,
As the new years come, and the old years go.
Low on the ground an acorn lies;
Little by little it mounts to the skies,
Shadow and shelter for wandering herds,
Home for a hundred singing birds.
Little by little the great rocks grew,
Long, long ago, when the world was new:
Slowly and silently, stately and free,
Cities of coral under the sea
Little by little are blinded; while so
The new years come, and the old years go.
Little by little old tasks are done;
So are the crowns of the faithful won,
So is Heaven in our hearts begun.
With work and with weeping, with laughter and play,
Little by little the longest day
And the longest life are passing away,
Passing without return; while so
The new years come, and the old years go.
—Selected