There was a man who stood on high,
Upon a lofty wall;
And every one who passed him by,
Called out “I fear you’ll fall.”
Naught heeded he of their advice,
He was a headstrong youth,
He stood as if fixed in a vice,
Or like a nail forsooth.
While thus he stood a wind began,
To blow both long and loud,
And soon it blew this headstrong man,
Right down among the crowd.
Full many a head was broken then,
Full many an arm was cracked,
Much they abused headstrong man,
Who sense and wisdom lacked.
For this mishap he cared naught,
As we shall shortly see,
For the next day, as if in sport,
He mounted in a tree.
The tree was withered, old, and grey,
And propped up with a stake,
And all who passed him by did say,
“That branch you’re on will break.”
Naught heeded he of their advice,
He was a headstrong youth,
He stood as fixed in a vice,
Or like a nail forsooth.
While thus he stood the branch began
To break, where he did stand,
And soon it dropped this headstrong man
Into a cart of sand.
The sandman vainly sought for him,
For half an hour or more,
At last he found him in a trim
He ne’er was in before.
For sand his face did nearly hide,
He was a mass of sand:
Loud laughed the sandman when he spied
The branch where he did stand.
“Why, what a foolish man thou art,
To stand in such a place!”
Then took some sand from out his cart,
And flung it in his face.
All wrathful then was sandy-coat,
Wrath filled his sandy eye,
He raised his sandy hand and smote,
The sandman lustily.
Full soon upon the ground he lay,
Urged by the sandman’s fist,
These words were all that he could say,
For those to hear who list.
Moral:
“If headstrong men will stand like me,
Nor yield to good advice,
All that they can expect will be,
To get sand in their eyes.”