Duty Done

Wild is the vale of Tidna ; bleak and bare
The rugged rocks that stand in silence there ;
And one small brook, with meek and quiet song,
Glides, like a dream, those nameless banks along;
Yet might those waters if their tale were told
A doctrine teach — a mystery unfold !
Far, far away that river's place of birth,
Mid weeds and waving flowers, its native earth;
Onward it came, and gathering as it passed,
Grew from a fountain to a stream at last ;
Until, to strength increas'd— to manhood grown,
It turn'd the upper and the nether stone ;
A duteous course the faithful water ran,
The vassal of the mighty master, Man.
Their aim achieved — their lowly duty done,
Thenceforward, on the rushing waters run,
And at the last with patient lapse they glide
To Ocean's shore and mingle with the tide.
Be this, my soul, a parable to thee,
Thus make thy courses, and so meet the sea !