Classic Poem

Soft was the air of spring, and at his feet
The turf, full swift, was turning green and sweet,
As from the city Rabbi Nathan passed,
Musing on Him who is the first and last.

The tuneful birds he heard in woodlands dim,
Wooing each other with that vernal hymn,
Which, flowing first from the great heart above,
Keeps fresh the world with its perpetual love.

Anon he came to where with eager toil
An aged man, fretting the fragrant soil
With his sharp spade, did make a space to set
A cobar tree, — the greatest wonder yet!

For seventy years the cobar tree must grow,
Full seventy years leaves bear and shadows throw,
Ere to fair fruit its fair, sweet blossoms turn,
For all the Day-god's ever-flowing urn.

" What madness this! " doth Rabbi Nathan cry;
" Thou workest here as one not born to die;
As if thyself didst hope that of this tree
Fruit yet should come to be a joy to thee. "

Then turned the aged man, and gently said;
" This tree shall grow long after I am dead;
But though its fruit my hands may never gain,
My planting, Rabbi, will not be in vain.

" Have I not eaten of the cobar tree?
My father's father planted it for me.
So plant I this, that in the coming days
My children's children may my labor praise. "

" Thou fool! " the Rabbi said, " to work for those
Who may or not be, Heaven only knows.
All earthly things full soon must pass away,
'Tis only work for Heaven that will pay. "

He wandered on, and, as the sun now low,
Rushed to its setting, and a sudden glow
Filled all the west, he laid him down to sleep,
Nor guessed how long the charm its power would keep.

For many a moon did wax and wane again,
And many a year did bring its joy and pain,
Ere he awoke, and not far off beheld
What seemed the tree that he had known of eld.

But now it was full grown, and at its root
A man, full grown, was eating of its fruit,
Who said, when asked how came it thus to be,
" My father's father planted it for me. "

Then Rabbi Nathan knew that seventy years,
With all their precious freight of smiles and tears,
Had fled since he had lain him down to sleep,
And felt the slumber o'er his eyelids creep.

He wandered back into the city street,
But saw no friend with voice of love to greet;
Yet in the schools where he of old did teach,
He heard the sages quote his silver speech.

And then he saw that not in heaven alone,
But here on earth, we live when we are gone;
Too late he learned the lesson of to-day;
The world goes on when we are gone away.

The world goes on; and happiest is he
Who in such wise wins immortality,
That, should he sleep for ever in the grave,
His work goes on and helps the world to save.