The Children's Railroad
Old Time has built a Railroad,
On which you children speed
To a land of light and plenty,
Or a land of darksome need;
And soon you'll come to a meadow,
Where two tracks mark the way,
But they'll run close up alongside
For many and many a day.
And one is strewn with roses,
While one looks bleak and bare,
With now and then a b
rry-bush,
And a violet here and there;--
On one you'll find companions
Who but for pleasure seek,
While friends along the other,
Will words of wisdom speak.
Be careful in your choosing,
For if you take the Right,
You will travel in the shadow
Of the Rock that shields at night;
'T will lead through greenest pastures
Where softest brooklets flow,
And land you at a Station
That is full of cheer and glow.
On the other track, the roses
Are backed by sharpest thorns;
While berries always nourish,
And the violet but adorns;--
You will stumble into sluices,
And what is worse than all,
Your self-respect and conscience
Grow weak with every fall.
Yes, if you choose the other
That looks so bright and gay,
You'll find the bridges broken,
And the road-bed washed away;
And when you near the Station,
You'll switch to a fearful leap,
That will hurl you into darkness,
And bury you in the deep.
But those who choose the Right one
Grow manly, womanly, true;
God's love-light shines upon them,
And falls as heavenly dew;--
They grieve at your wild folly,
And will gladly help you back,
If at any curve or turning
You seek the trusty track.
But ah! the scars you're wearing,
From thorns that pierced you sore,--
And the ditches in which you've fallen,
That were strewn with roses o'er;--
And the joys you've lost, unnumbered,
That spring from good deeds done;
And the fruits you've missed, unmeasured,
That by others have been won.
Though friends may be indulgent,
And loved ones even forget,
Yourself can never banish
The memories that beset.
You will wish you had never traveled
The way that leads to death;
You will wish you had never reveled
In the viper's venomed breath.
So beware which track you follow;
And again I say, beware!
The False is strewn with roses,--
The True looks bleak and bare;
But this, 't is plain, is only
That youthful, artless eyes
Are open to show and glamour,
But see not deep nor wise,
To Truth then, children, listen,
And cultivate the seed
That in your hearts God planted,
To serve your every need;--
Yes, heed the voice within you,
And follow it all the way,
For it will help you choose the road
That leads to endless day.