Читать книгу The Continental Monthly, Vol. 6, No 3, September 1864 - Various - Страница 3

See 'neath the swelling storm,

The willow's slender form

With grace doth ever yield;

While oaks, the monarchs of the field,

In pride resist the blast,

And prostrate lie, ere it is past:

But now the storm is o'er,

The willow bows no more;

While oaks from overthrow

No rising ever know.

So with the meek, in strife

Against the storms of life;

Though often roughly cast,

They stand erect at last:

But those who will not bend

To what their God doth send,

Are whelmed in lasting woe,

And rising up will never know.