Classic Poem

The seed has started, who can stay it? see
The leaves are sprouting high above the ground
Already o'er the flowers its head, the tree
That rose beside it and that on it frowned
Behold is but a small bush by its side
Still on! it cannot stop; its branches spread;
It looks o'er all the earth in giant pride
The nations find upon its limbs their bread
Its boughs their millions shelter from the heat
Beneath its shade see kindreds tongues and all
That the wide world contains they all retreat
Beneath the shelter of that acorn small
That late thou flung away 'twas the best gift
That heaven e'er gave, its head the low shall lift.