I took a piece of plastic clay
And idly fashioned it one day,
And as my fingers pressed it, still
It bent and yielded to my will.
I came again, when days were passed,
The bit of clay was hard at last,
The form I gave it, still it bore,
But I could change that form no more.
Then I took a piece of living clay
And gently formed it, day by day
And molded with my power and art,
A young child’s soft and yielding heart.
I came again when years were gone,
It was a man I looked upon.
He still that early impress bore,
And I could change it, nevermore.
Author Unknown
Notice that the author information has been added in the comments.
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Hi,
So beautifully written.
Yeah, it all depends on how well we educate them and how much quality time that we spend for them.
It’s scary and awesome at the same time. I’ll be sending my husband to your blog. He loves airplanes!
Beautiful. Too bad the author is unknown. I would love to check out his/her other works.
Yes. There was no name given.
Very good poem and the picture fit it perfecty. Thanks for sharing them!
You are most welcome!
The poem was written by my great-uncle, E. Vance Springer in 1909, one hundred years ago. He was an educator in Southern Ohio for 43 years.
I was just preparing to share this poem with some educator friends of mine, and was looking through my copy of an article written about him and this poem in the Columbus Dispatch, July 27, 1958. Just for the fun of it, I decided to “google” it to see if it was on line. I came right to your site.
His wife and friends urged him to have the poem copyrighted, but he never did. It was first used in public at a PTA program and then was published by a PTA magazine without his name attached to it and that started a string of publications without proper credit. He did get the copyright papers but never filled them out. His wife felt that had her husband been a little bolder he might have achieved some fame as a writer and poet.
Yes…my uncle too. Vance Springer taught at Ohio University. It appeared in a slick periodical once when I was a kid…probably in the 1950s. He was a small man, fine featured. I can imagine him not getting around to copyrighting. But many poets do not/did not copyright. Some of us just give our work to the world. And we hope it speaks to some few people. Obviously, Uncle Vance’s work still speaks.!