Cbe IRatlwap Cutting. 
The earth was sear’d by the ruthless spade. 
And an ugly gash in the hill was made. 
That throbbing engine and rattling train. 
Might break the peace of this fair domain. 
But Nature came to her mission true. 
And tended the wound with her silver dew. 
And softly beneath her gentle care. 
The scar on the hillside became less bare. 
Then velvet grass in its richest green. 
Stole over the place where the spade had been, 
A living carpet of beauty rare, — 
And starry daisies came thronging there. 
And troops of the beautiful primrose came, — 
The buttercup lifted its golden flame, — 
The violet wafted her incense sweet. 
And the honey-bee droned from his snug retreat. 
The trains rushed up, and the trains rushed down 
But the cutting no longer was bare and brown. 
For it looked in its wonderful beauty dressed, 
Like a place by the fairies loved and blest. 
And thus God t.endeth the hearts that mourn. 
And bindeth the spirits by sorrow torn; 
Oh, thus to the troubled breast is given. 
The ichor divine, the dew of heaven; 
And beautiful flowers spring forth to bless 
The soul we had thought a wilderness. 
— Shapcott Wensley. 
