Page 76
THE LITTLE TRAVELLER.
I AM the tiniest child of earth, But still, I would like to be known to fame, Though next to nothing I had my birth, And lowest of all is my lowly name.
Yet, if so humble my native place, I this can say, in family pride, That I'm of the world's most numerous race, And made by the Maker of all beside.
Although I'm so poor, I have nought to lose; Still I'm so little I can't be lost: I journey about wherever I choose, And those, who carry me, bear the cost.
The most forgiving of earthly things, I often cling to my deadly foe; And, spite of the cruelest flirts and flings, Arise by the force that has cast me low.
When beauty has trodden me under foot, I've quietly risen her face to seek, Embraced her forehead, or calmly put Myself to rest in her dimpled cheek.
I''ve ridden to war on the soldler's plume; But startled, and sprung at the wild affray, The sights of horror, of fire and fume, And fled on the wing of the winds away.