- By Samuel Foss
- One day thru primeval wood
- a calf walked home, as good calves
- But made a trail, all bent askew,
- A crooked trail, as all calves do.
- Since then 300 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 passed that
- And then, a wise bell weather sheep
- Pursued the trail, oer vale
- And drew the flocks behind him too
- As good bell weather always do.
- And from that day, oer hill
- Thru those old woods, a path was
- And many men wound in and out,
- And dodged, and turned, and bent
- And uttered words of righteous
- Because twas such a crooked
- But still they followed, do not
- The first migrations of that calf.
- And thru the winding woods they
- Becaused he wobbled when he walked.
- This forest path became a lane
- That bent, and turned, and turned
- This crooked lane became a road
- Where many a poor horse with his
- Toiled on beneath the burning sun
- And traveled some three miles in
- And thus a century and a half
- They trod the footsteps of that
- The years passed on in swiftness
- the road became a village street.
- And this, before men were aware,
- A citys crowed thoroughfare.
- And soon the central street was
- Of a renowned metropolis.
- And men, two centuries and a half
- Trod the footsteps of that calf.
- Each day a 100 thousand route
- Followed the zigzag calf about,
- And oer his crooked journey
- The traffic of the continent.
- A 100 thousand men were led
- By one calf, near three centuries
- They followed still his crooked way
- And lost 100 years per day.
- For thus such reverence is lent
- To well established precedent.
- A moral lesson this might teach
- Were I ordained, and called to
- 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, and in, and forth and
- And still their devious course
- To keep the paths that others do.
- They keep the paths a sacred groove
- Along which all their lives they
- But how the wise old wood gods
- Who saw that first primeval calf.
- Ah, many things this tale might
- But I am not ordained to preach.
Food for thought:
"And he received them at their
hand, and fashioned it with a graving tool, after he had made it
a molten calf: and they said, These be thy gods, O Israel, which
brought thee up out of the land of Egypt. And when Aaron saw it,
he built an altar before it; and Aaron made proclamation, and
said, To morrow is a feast to the LORD. And they rose up early on
the morrow, and offered burnt offerings, and brought peace
offerings; and the people sat down to eat and to drink, and rose
up to play." Exodus 32:4-6
"Enter ye in at the strait gate:
for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to
destruction, and many there be which go in thereat: Because
strait is the gate, and narrow is the way, which leadeth unto
life, and few there be that find it. Matthew 7:13-14