The Calf Path One day, through the primeval wood, a calf walked home, as good calves should; But made a trail all bent askew, a crooked trail as all calves do. Since then two hundred years have fled, and, I infer, the calf is dead. But still he left behind his trail, and thereby hangs my mortal tale. The trail was taken up next day by a lone dog that pass that way; And then a wise bellwether sheep pursued the trail over vale and steep, And drew the flock behind him, too, as good bellwethers always do. And from that day, over hill and glade, through those woods a path was made. And many men wound in and out, and dodged, and turned, and bent about; And uttered words of righteous wrath because it was such a crooked path. But still they followed -- but not laugh -- the first migrations of that calf. And through this winding wood way stalked, because he wobbled when he walked. This forest path became a lane, that bent, and turned, and turned again; This crooked lane became a road, where many a poor horse with his load, Toiled on beneath the burning sun, and traveled some three miles in one. And thus a century and a half day trod the footsteps of that calf. The years passed on in swiftness week it that fleet, and the road became a village street; And this, before men were aware, a crowded city thorough fare; And soon the Central Street was this of a renown metropolis; And then two centuries and a half trod in the footsteps of that calf. Each day a hundred thousand rout followed the zigzag calf about; And over this crooked journey went the traffic of a continent. A hundred thousand men were led by one calf near three centuries dead. They followed still his crooked way, and lost one hundred years a day. For thus such reverence is lent to well-established precedent. A mortal lesson this might teach, were I ordained and called to preach; For men are prone to go it blind along the calf-paths of the mind, And work away from sun to sun to do what other men have done. They follow in the beaten track, and out in, forth and back; And still their devious course pursue, to keep the path that others do. How a wise old wood-gods laugh, who saw the first primeval calf; Ah, many things this tale might teach -- but I am not ordained to preach.
Posted on: Mon, 24 Jun 2013 18:30:06 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015