p. 1 | ARE THEY TRIFLES?

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Feb 4, 1873

ARE THEY TRIFLES?

“Who hath despised the day of small things?” Why do we speak of “little things,” And “trifles light as air?” Can aught a trifle be that brings One moment’s joy or care? The smallest seed in the fertile ground Is the germ of a noble tree; The lightest touch on a festering wound— Is it not agony?

What is a trifle? A thoughtless word, Forgotten as soon as said. Perchance its echo shall yet be heard When the speaker is with the dead. That thoughtless word is a random dart, And strikes, we know not where; It may rankle long in some tender heart, Is it a trifle there?

Is it a trifle—the first false step On the dizzy verge of sin? ’Tis treacherous ground—one little slip May plunge us headlong in; One light temptation, and we may wear Death’s galling chain for aye; One little moment of heart-felt prayer May rend those bonds away.

Drops of water are little things, But they form the boundless sea. ’Tis in little notes the wild bird sings, Yet his song is melody. Little voices, now scarcely heard, In Heaven shall bear their part; And a little grave in the green church-yard Holds many a parent’s heart.

This world is little, if but rightly weighed, And trifling its joy and care; But not while we linger beneath its shade— There are no trifles here. The lightest burden may weigh like lead On the faint and weary soul, In the up-hill path it perforce may tread, Before it may reach the goal.

Cease, then, to speak of a “little thing,” Which may give thy brother pain; Shun little sins, lest they haply bring The greater in their train. Seize each occasion, however small, Of good which may be given; So when thou shalt hear thy Master’s call, Thou shalt be “great in Heaven.”