Читать книгу A Few More Verses - Coolidge Susan - Страница 6

ONE stitch dropped as the weaver drove

His nimble shuttle to and fro,

In and out, beneath, above,

Till the pattern seemed to bud and grow

As if the fairies had helping been, —

One small stitch which could scarce be seen.

But the one stitch dropped pulled the next stitch out,

And a weak place grew in the fabric stout;

And the perfect pattern was marred for aye

By the one small stitch that was dropped that day.

One small life in God’s great plan,

How futile it seems as the ages roll,

Do what it may, or strive how it can

To alter the sweep of the infinite whole!

A single stitch in an endless web,

A drop in the ocean’s flow and ebb!

But the pattern is rent where the stitch is lost,

Or marred where the tangled threads have crossed;

And each life that fails of its true intent

Mars the perfect plan that its Master meant.