Classic Poem

There are who wish to build their houses strong,
Yet of the earth material they will take;
And hope the brick, within the fire burnt long,
A lasting home for them, and theirs will make.

And one, who thought him wiser than the rest,
Of the firm granite hewed his dwelling proud;
And all who passed this eagle's lofty nest
Praised his secure retreat from tempests loud.

They built for Time; and Time reclaimed his own,
Their palaces he toppled to the ground;
By grass and moss their ruins were o'ergrown,
I looked for them, but they could not be found.

But one I knew who sought him out no wood,
No brick, nor stone, though as the others born;
And those who passed, where waiting still he stood,
Made light of him, and laughed his hopes to scorn.

And Time went by, and he was waiting still;
No house had he, and seemed to need one less;
He felt that waiting yet his master's will
Was the best shelter in this wilderness.

And I beheld the rich man, and the wise,
When lapsing years fell heavy on each shed;
As one by one they fled, in lonely guise,
To this poor man for refuge, and for bread.