Vol. XI. MAY, 1900. No. IX.
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AT SCHOOL - CLOSE.
The end has come, as come it must
To all things ; in these sweet June days
The teacher and the scholar trust
Their parting feet to separate ways.
They part: but in the years to be
Shall pleasant memories cling to each.
As shells bear inland from the sea
The murmur of the rhythmic beach.
* * «
Her little realm the teacher leaves,
She breaks her wand of power apart,
While, for your love and trust, she gives
The warm thanks of a grateful heart.
* * *
Across the distance of the years
She sends her God-speed back to you ;
She has no thought of doubts or fears:
Be but yourselves, be pure, be true,
And prompt in duty ; heed the deep,
Low voice of conscience ; through the ill
And discord roundabout you, keep
Your faith in human nature still.
* * #
And, when the world shall link your names
With gracious lives and manners fine,
The teacher shall assert her claims,
And proudly whisper, "These were mine!"
—John Greenleaf Whittier.