John Greenleaf Whittier (1807–1892). The Poetical Works in Four Volumes. 1892.
Occasional PoemsAt School-Close
T
To all things; in these sweet June days
The teacher and the scholar trust
Their parting feet to separate ways.
Shall pleasant memories cling to each,
As shells bear inland from the sea
The murmur of the rhythmic beach.
When, plastic to his lightest touch,
His clay-wrought model slowly grows
To that fine grace desired so much.
The living shapes whereon she wrought,
Strong, tender, innocently wise,
The child’s heart with the woman’s thought.
The voice that called from dream and play,
The firm but kindly hand that set
Her feet in learning’s pleasant way,—
The wakening sense, the strange delight
That swelled the fabled statue’s breast
And filled its clouded eyes with sight!
Ye pass from girlhood’s gate of dreams;
In broader ways your footsteps fall,
Ye test the truth of all that seems.
She breaks her wand of power apart,
While, for your love and trust, she gives
The warm thanks of a grateful heart.
Contrasted with your morn of spring,
The waning with the waxing moon,
The folded with the outspread wing.
She sends her God-speed back to you;
She has no thought of doubts or fears:
Be but yourselves, be pure, be true,
Low voice of conscience; through the ill
And discord round about you, keep
Your faith in human nature still.
Be pitiful as woman should,
And, spite of all the lies of creeds,
Hold fast the truth that God is good.
The world that needs the hand and heart
Of Martha’s helpful carefulness
No less than Mary’s better part.
And leave each year a richer good,
And matron loveliness outvie
The nameless charm of maidenhood.
With gracious lives and manners fine,
The teacher shall assert her claims,
And proudly whisper, “These were mine!”