THE TWO ACORNS. 
DR. CHARLES MACKAY. 
In ancient time, two acorns, in their 
cups, 
Shaken by winds and ripeness from the 
tree, 
Dropped side by side into the ferns and 
grass; 
"Where have I fallen — to what base re- 
gion come?" 
Exclaimed the one. "The joyous breeze 
no more 
Rocks me to slumber on the sheltering 
bough; 
The sunlight streams no longer on my 
face; 
I look no more from altitudes serene 
Upon the world reposing far below — 
Its plains, its hills, its rivers, and its 
woods. 
To me the nightingale sings hymns no 
more; 
But I am made companion of the worm, 
And rot on the chill earth. Around 
me grow 
Nothing but useless weeds, and grass, 
and fern, 
Unfit to hold companionship with me. 
Ah, me! most wretched! rain and frost 
and dew 
And all the pangs and penalties of 
earth 
Corrupt me where I lie — degenerate." 
And thus the acorn made its daily moan. 
The other raised no murmur of com- 
plaint 
And looked with no contempt upon the 
grass 
Nor called the branching fern a worth- 
less weed 
Nor scorned the woodland flowers that 
round it blew. 
All silently and piously it lay 
Upon the kindly bosom of the earth. 
It blessed the warmth with which the 
noonday sun 
Made fruitful all the ground; it loved 
the dews, 
The moonlight and the snow, the frost 
and rain 
And all the change of seasons as they 
passed. 
It sank into the bosom of the soil. 
The bursting life, enclosed within its 
husk, 
Broke through its fetters; it extended 
roots 
And twined them freely in the grateful 
ground; 
It sprouted up and looked upon the 
light; 
The sunshine fed it; the embracing air 
Endowed it with vitality and strength; 
The rains of heaven supplied it nour- 
ishment. 
And so from month to month, and year 
to year, 
It grew in beauty and in usefulness, 
Until its large circumference enclosed 
Shelter for flocks and herds; until its 
boughs 
Afforded homes for happy multitudes — 
The dormouse and the chaffinch and 
the jay 
And countless myriads of minuter life; 
Until its bole, too vast for the embrace 
Of human arms, stood, in the forest 
depths, 
The model and glory of the wood. 
Its sister acorn perished in its pride. 
