As a quiet little seedling

    Lay within its darksome bed,

To itself it fell a-talking,

    And this is what it said:

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"I am not so very robust,

    But I'll do the best I can;"

And the seedling from that moment

    Its work of life began.

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So it pushed a little leaflet

    Up into the light of day,

To examine the surroundings

    And show the rest the way.

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The leaflet liked the prospect,

    So it called its brother, Stem;

Then two other leaflets heard it,

    And quickly followed them.

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To be sure, the haste and hurry

    Made the seedling sweat and pant;

But almost before it knew it

    It found itself a plant.

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The sunshine poured upon it,

    And the clouds they gave a shower;

And the little plant kept growing

    Till it found itself a flower.

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Little folks, be like the seedling,

    Always do the best you can;

Every child must share life's labor

    Just as well as every man.

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And the sun and showers will help you

     Through the lonesome, struggling

         hours,

Till you raise to light and beauty

   Virtue's fair, unfading flowers. 

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