Classic Poem

A little seed in weakness sown,
Fell in the desert dust —
In Allen's hand that seed became
A sacred, precious trust.

Around it swept the arid airs
Of prejudice and hate,
And heaven's bright dew upon it fell,
And God watched o'er its fate.

And Faith and Sacrifice, like rain,
Fell softly at its base,
Until amid the elder trees,
A scion took its place.

Now where the broad Atlantic breaks
In sprays of crested foam
Or, sobbing near our sunset mounts,
Is heard Pacific's moan —

From shore to shore its branches spread
From snow-clad hills of Maine
To where, against our coral reefs,
The wild waves dash in vain.

Its roots have run beyond the sea
To Hayti's sunny strand,
And spread its branches far away
In Africa's distant land.

May every fruit of God's rich grace
This tree for men afford,
And flourish 'mid the vales of life
A planting of the Lord.

Beneath its shade may weary hearts
Find shelter, love and rest,
And with a glad surrender make
Our earth more bright and blest.

May He who prunes and bears away
The branch He cannot own
Help this to be a fruitful tree
To plant around His throne.