WHEN a kind parent first his children guides
Into a bit of world they have not seen,
Though often told about its meadows green,
Or of some evil thing that there abides,
Their father’s careful care each one derides;
His guarded pace to them seems slow and mean,
Till sudden, they go hurrying back to lean
Against his surer, stronger heart.
The sides
Of mountains where men’s daring feet would go
Alluring are, because no man has trod;
The restless slopes are tempting from below,
Yet seekers will not in the safe paths plod;
Like the weak children are taught to know
That man must always follow after God.