The Holly-Tree

O reader! hast thou ever stood to see The Holly-tree? The eye that contemplates it well perceives Its glossy leaves Ordered by an Intelligence so wise As might confound the Atheist's sophistries. Below, a circling fence, its leaves are seen, Wrinkled and keen; No grazing cattle, through their prickly round, Can reach to wound; But, as they grow where nothing is to fear, Smooth and unarmed the pointless leaves appear. I love to view these things with curious eyes, And moralize; And in this wisdom of the Holly-tree Can emblem see Wherewith, perchance, to make a pleasant rhyme, - One which may profit in the after-time. Thus, though abroad, perchance, I might appear Harsh and austere; To those who on my leisure would intrude, Reserved and rude; Gentle at home amid my friends I'd be, Like the high leaves upon the Holly-tree. And should my youth - as youth is apt, I know, - Some harshness show, All vain asperities I, day by day, Would wear away, Till the smooth temper of my age should be Like the high leaves upon the Holly-tree. And as, when all the summer trees are seen So bright and green, The Holly-leaves their fadeless hues display Less bright than they; But when the bare and wintry woods we see, What then so cheerful as the Holly-tree? - So, serious should my youth appear among The thoughtless throng; So would I seem, amid the young and gay, More grave than they; That in my age as cheerful I might be As the green winter of the Holly-tree.