A Homely Counsel On Care
A winding hill, on either side the hedge
Crowned by the windshorn trees and bright with flowers;
A turn, and then the blue expanse of sea
On either hand, and broken line of coast;
A step, and there the haven lies below,
Shut in by rocks, where wild waves surge and foam,
A burst of thunder then a shower of spray.
A rough stone pier with groups of fishermen,
And in its shelter sway the anchored boats,
And nearer, children play about the beach.
The blue smoke of the clustered cottages
As a thin veil o'erspreads; while far and near
Fly the white gulls, or dip with mewing cry.
Within a garden by her cottage door
Sits an old mother, knitting busily—
Hair snowy white beneath a snow-white cap;
Eyes blue as the blue skies that arch the place;
A face all full of peace and sunny hopes.
A cheery song she sings, a moment stayed
To count the stitches and to set them right,
Then click the needles music to her song.
From her I learned this counsel upon care.
Don't you trouble trouble
Till trouble troubles you.
Don't you look for trouble;
Let trouble look for you.
Don't you borrow sorrow;
You'll surely have your share.
He who dreams of sorrow
Will find that sorrow's there.
Don't you hurry worry
By worrying lest it come.
To flurry is to worry,
T'will miss 'ee if you're mum.
If care you've got to carry
Wait till 'tis at the door,
For he who runs to meet it
Takes up the load before.
If minding will not mend it.
Then better not to mind;
The best thing is to end it—
Just leave it all behind.
Who feareth hath forsaken
The Heavenly Father's side;
What He hath undertaken
He surely will provide.
The very birds reprove thee
With all their happy song:
The very flowers teach thee
That fretting is a wrong.
“Cheer up,” the sparrow chirpeth,
“Thy Father feedeth me;
Think how much more He careth,
Oh lonely child for thee.”
“Fear not,” the flowers whisper,
“Since thus He hath arrayed
The buttercup and daisy—
How can'st thou be afraid.”
Then don't you trouble trouble
Till trouble troubles you:
You'll only double trouble,
And trouble others too.
Crowned by the windshorn trees and bright with flowers;
A turn, and then the blue expanse of sea
On either hand, and broken line of coast;
A step, and there the haven lies below,
Shut in by rocks, where wild waves surge and foam,
A burst of thunder then a shower of spray.
A rough stone pier with groups of fishermen,
And in its shelter sway the anchored boats,
And nearer, children play about the beach.
The blue smoke of the clustered cottages
As a thin veil o'erspreads; while far and near
Fly the white gulls, or dip with mewing cry.
Within a garden by her cottage door
Sits an old mother, knitting busily—
Hair snowy white beneath a snow-white cap;
Eyes blue as the blue skies that arch the place;
A face all full of peace and sunny hopes.
A cheery song she sings, a moment stayed
To count the stitches and to set them right,
Then click the needles music to her song.
From her I learned this counsel upon care.
Don't you trouble trouble
Till trouble troubles you.
Don't you look for trouble;
Let trouble look for you.
Don't you borrow sorrow;
You'll surely have your share.
He who dreams of sorrow
Will find that sorrow's there.
Don't you hurry worry
By worrying lest it come.
To flurry is to worry,
T'will miss 'ee if you're mum.
If care you've got to carry
Wait till 'tis at the door,
For he who runs to meet it
Takes up the load before.
If minding will not mend it.
Then better not to mind;
The best thing is to end it—
Just leave it all behind.
Who feareth hath forsaken
The Heavenly Father's side;
What He hath undertaken
He surely will provide.
The very birds reprove thee
With all their happy song:
The very flowers teach thee
That fretting is a wrong.
“Cheer up,” the sparrow chirpeth,
“Thy Father feedeth me;
Think how much more He careth,
Oh lonely child for thee.”
“Fear not,” the flowers whisper,
“Since thus He hath arrayed
The buttercup and daisy—
How can'st thou be afraid.”
Then don't you trouble trouble
Till trouble troubles you:
You'll only double trouble,
And trouble others too.
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