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Edna Smith-DeRan 
 
The Grief 
 Shadow Between 
 
 and Other Poems 
 
 BY 
 
 EDNA SMITH-DERAN 
 
 II 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "Am I My Brother's Keeper ? " 
 
 * ' Verses by the Wayside ' ' 
 
 Etc. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 KALAMAZOO, MICHIGAN 
 1911 
 

 Copyrighted 1911, by 
 EDNA SMITH-DERAN 
 
 4CI.A31Vi:>b4 
 

 
 To 
 
 MY IDEAL 
 
 Brilliant in brain, and pure in heart, 
 
 Cleanly in body and mind; 
 Sharing the griefs of thy fellow men; 
 
 Tender and loving and kind; 
 Yet not too perfect to be of the world 
 
 (Human I'd have thee to be;) 
 Worthy a good woman's love and trust : 
 
 Dearest of all men to me. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 A Reply 73 
 
 A Thought 45 
 
 A Story in Rhyme 126 
 
 A Heart Cry 150 
 
 An Answer 124 
 
 An Inspiration 46 
 
 All We Need 145 
 
 All One 109 
 
 At Night 102 
 
 At a Summer Resort 13 
 
 Because 10 
 
 Beggars at the Gate of Gold 93 
 
 Blinded 36 
 
 Both Best Ill 
 
 Be a Leader 128 
 
 Could I Go Back 112 
 
 Don't Let the Songs Die in Your Heart 23 
 
 Evening Prayer for the Truth Seekers' Club 81 
 
 Fiftieth Anniversary Mr and Mrs. R 42 
 
 For Every Cross a Crown 48 
 
 God's Mysteries 21 
 
 Give Joy 44 
 
 Grieve Not 101 
 
 He Beheld the City and Wept 17 
 
 How Long Is Day 89 
 
 Have You Forgotten 56 
 
 It's Nobody's Business 146 
 
 Jamie 131 
 
 Life 114 
 
 3 
 
Love 140 
 
 Love's Token 69 
 
 Longing 71 
 
 Love vs. Law 70 
 
 Life's Music 85 
 
 Live Your Sermons Every Day 97 
 
 Life's Miracle 25 
 
 Mijssing Sambo 75 
 
 My Promise 77 
 
 My Creed 118 
 
 My Work 130 
 
 Make Heaven Each Day 91 
 
 Make Yourself Known 148 
 
 Nature's Rhyme 37 
 
 New Hope 76 
 
 Oh, I Loves You 19 
 
 Our Duty 51 
 
 Our Boys of '61 116 
 
 Polly Make-Believe 41 
 
 Prepared for War 83 
 
 Query 43 
 
 Resurrected Hope 62 
 
 Service, Not Self 60 
 
 Sacrifice 123 
 
 Slumber Song 28 
 
 The Man Who Shirks 138 
 
 The Need of the World 104 
 
 The Women of the Future 107 
 
 The Daisy 136 
 
 The Grief Shadow Between 7 
 
 The Problem of Life 53 
 
 The Quest of the Soul 59 
 
 4 
 
The Man in the Mansion 121 
 
 The Highways of Life 99 
 
 The Day is Dead 30 
 
 The Star of Truth 24 
 
 The Narrow Path 32 
 
 The Men of Tomorrow 52 
 
 Time and Space 88 
 
 Telepathy 38 
 
 True Friendship 9 
 
 Tomorrow 57 
 
 To M. A. S 14 
 
 To Prof. W 20 
 
 To Harvey Fuller 26 
 
 To Mrs. P 27 
 
 To Little "I Will" 39 
 
 To Mrs. F 40 
 
 To 50 
 
 To Arthur Kellogg 80 
 
 To W 55 
 
 To 79 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. F 95 
 
 To Pauline 120 
 
 To Mr. and Mrs. H 105 
 
 To E. H. G 129 
 
 To of St. Louis 135 
 
 Vision Prophetic 133 
 
 While I Am Here 12 
 
 Wild Woods Queries 34 
 
 When War Calls Men to Arms 142 
 
 You Pray For a Heaven Above 15 
 
 You Cannot Forget 67 
 
 Your Dream 31 
 
 5 
 
THE GRIEF SHADOW BETWEEN 
 
 You look in the face of the baby you hold, 
 
 So pure in its innocent glee; 
 You try to forget; but e'en as you look 
 
 The form of another you see. 
 
 You smile in the face of the daughter you hold, 
 
 And yet in the depths of your heart 
 The face of another — a daughter — you see. 
 
 Who from you years ago had to part. 
 
 And e'en tho' unworthy were you, still your heart 
 Cannot dim that pure face to your mind, 
 
 Cannot blot from your mem'ry that voice saying "Dad." 
 A life of regret you now find. 
 
 Every kiss that this babe will e'er press on your lips 
 Will be marred by the m)em'ry of this: 
 
 The daughter— once "Dad's"— must fatherless be; 
 A father's protection she'll miss. 
 
 The years are fast going; were you on a throne 
 What else could she give you save scorn ? 
 
 You — loved by one child who will learn what you were, 
 And scorned by the one left forlorn. 
 
A father untrue to the babe of his blood 
 Can hope for naught less than regret; 
 
 The hot, scalding tears you have shed will come oft 
 Again ere your life's sun be set. 
 
 But tears will not blot from your past what was bad; 
 
 And sorrow must follow each sin. 
 The law has decreed we must reap as we sow, — 
 
 Sow lust, a lust-harvest we win. 
 
 So look in the eyes of that babe and there see 
 
 A picture you would not tell all. 
 The world views the innocent babe on your knee; 
 
 To your gaze a dim shadow will fall. 
 
 A shadow of nameless, unspeakable grief 
 'Tween her and the joy in your heart; 
 
 With her prattle you'll hear a faint heartcry of "Dad" 
 From the daughter who lives far apart. 
 
 And when you lay down this old earth-form of life, 
 And one stands by your grave low and green. 
 
 Your soul will cry loud as it sees only one: 
 "I placed that grief-shadow between." 
 
 And e'en tho' "on high" should thy spirit then roam, 
 
 Or still on this earth live unseen, 
 'Tis decreed that not once can thy spirit forget 
 
 Or transform that grief-shadow between. 
 
 And when in the end all are gathered at last. 
 
 And we all then shall "know as we're known," 
 
 Then what will you say? For both then will see 
 You've reaped what you've knowingly sown. 
 8 
 
Will one you now hold look with pride on your past ? 
 
 The other forget and forgive? 
 Perchance this might be. Yet still in your soul 
 
 Will the mem'ry of that grief-shadow live. 
 
 TRUE FRIENDSHIP 
 
 When the heart is o'erflowing with sorrow, 
 And our burdens are many to bear, 
 
 And the load seems too heavy to carry, 
 We oft ask : does fate treat us quite fair ? 
 
 But as some gentle whisper comes to us 
 
 And a hand is soft slipped in our own, 
 
 It just seems as if that is the dearest, 
 
 Best possession of friendship we've known. 
 
 When it seeks us in grief to give comfort, 
 Or in poverty to give us its cheer, 
 
 When the rest of the world has forsaken,— 
 I just tell you such friendship is dear. 
 
BECAUSE 
 
 I would not say one harsh or bitter word 
 
 To wound a human heart, 
 And leave its sting to rankle long and sore 
 
 And poison with its dart; 
 For you are human and of all the world 
 
 You are, my love, a part. 
 And so I would not say one cruel word 
 
 Because — because I love you. 
 
 I would not think one low or vulgar thought. 
 
 For love is pure and true, 
 And "thoughts have wings," and my unworthy ones 
 
 Might fly away to you 
 And you'd lose faith in me and I would grieve, 
 
 For I would know you knew. 
 And so I'd think no vile or selfish thought 
 
 Because — because I love you. 
 
 I would not list to aught save what is pure. 
 
 And to all else say nay; 
 For that I list might lodge within my heart 
 
 And hold a mighty sway. 
 And, ere I was aware some passing hour 
 
 From out my mouth might stray. 
 And so I'd only hark to what is good, 
 
 Because — because I love you. 
 
 10 
 
I would not in one human see a sin 
 
 That I would criticise; 
 Tho' in life's gutter he, I'd not condemn, 
 
 For love would make me wise; 
 I know that loving eyes see naught but good, 
 
 Or error, which for your sweet sake, I'd change 
 And lift that brother up to heights of truth 
 
 Because — because I love you. 
 
 Aye, loving you, I'd be more tender, true 
 
 To you and all mankind. 
 And what I see within your loving heart 
 
 In all men try to find. 
 Because of my unselfish love for you 
 
 I'd seek the best in life, 
 Or should I see the worst, would make it good 
 
 Because — because I love you. 
 
 II 
 
WHILE I AM HERE 
 
 If for me you've fragrant flowers, 
 
 I pray you give them now; 
 For when I'm dead I can't enjoy them, 
 
 Or smell them anyhow. 
 
 If for me you've words of kindness 
 
 I pray you speak today; 
 Don't wait till I am in my coffin, 
 
 I can't hear what you say. 
 
 If for my lips you have sweet kisses, 
 
 I beg you to bestow 
 Your love's great wealth while I can feel it, 
 
 While I am here to know. 
 
 Today I want your kind caresses, 
 
 (My spirit needs them not) 
 To help me in my earth progression 
 
 So full of trials wrought. 
 
 And so, my friends, give and withhold not 
 
 All that you would bestow. 
 While I am in this earth plane with you, 
 
 While I am here to know. 
 
 12 
 
AT A SUMMER RESORT 
 
 (In reply to Brand Whitlock's poem of same title, 
 published in The American Magazine, July, 1911. 
 
 'Tis beautiful: the ocean air 
 
 That wafts its breezes o'er my face ; 
 
 The perfume-laden flowers that send 
 Their dainty odors everyplace. 
 
 The carols of the birds that flit 
 
 From tree to tree to join their mate; 
 
 To know 'tis mine to see, to hear, 
 
 To breathe, enjoy — delightful fate. 
 
 And yet, not once would I forget 
 
 My brothers, who must toil and spin, 
 
 Whose care-worn features feel no breeze 
 
 On sweat-stained brow, as bread they win. 
 
 I'd not forget their work-worn wives, 
 
 Lest I too long would idly live 
 At ease, while they — my sisters — wept 
 
 For one kind word that I might give. 
 
 I'd not forget the youths who toil, 
 
 Bereft of childhood's rightful glee ; 
 
 I would not, could not, once forget 
 Their painful pleading looks to me. 
 
 13 
 
I seek for rest, but they have none. 
 
 Save cares of wealth, what wearied me? 
 Why should I long seek idle hours 
 
 When all their lives at toil must be? 
 
 The ocean air, the flowers' perfume. 
 
 And songs of birds are fine. And yet 
 
 They're mine to share, to strengthen me 
 To love the world. I'd not forget. 
 
 TO M. A. S. 
 
 Dear, life has no sorrow 
 
 That love will not cure, 
 
 If we are but patient 
 
 And bravely endure. 
 
 Look upward. The sunshine 
 Is bright for each one. 
 
 Keep peering through darkness 
 Till clouds are all gone. 
 
 The shadows will vanish, 
 
 The sun seem more bright. 
 
 Then always be hopeful 
 
 And cling to the right. 
 
 14 
 
YOU PRAY FOR A HEAVEN ABOVE 
 
 Give me this earth with weal and woe, 
 With storm and shine and winds that blow, 
 With human hearts that beat so true 
 With sorrows old and pleasures new. 
 This dear old earth with its golden glow 
 Of love and treasured friends we know. 
 
 Yes, give me men who think and feel 
 For human woes, who try to heal 
 By kindly words our broken hearts; 
 Where day by day in busy marts 
 Our women work and poor men toil. 
 Or till the fields of richest soil. 
 
 From tears and works you seek release ; 
 You ask a place where all is peace, 
 This dear old earth seems good to me, 
 And midst its woes I'd rather be. 
 Where yearning, joy, and grief, and pain, 
 All come and go and come again 
 
 To test our hearts and make them strong. 
 There is a right for every wrong. 
 And when we know our power to heal 
 And lift our friends from woe and weal, 
 I'm sure the heaven that's right here now 
 Is all I'd ask for anyhow. 
 
 15 
 
Perchance there is a heaven above, 
 Where all is joy and rest and love; 
 But had I done my share of good, 
 And loved my neighbor as I should, 
 I'd not be here in flesh today, 
 For in your heaven, perchance I'd stay. 
 
 But there is still some work for me 
 Right here on earth; and so you see 
 Why I don't ask your heaven above; 
 I'd rather fill this earth with love. 
 And have some heaven right now and here. 
 And to sad hearts bring hope and cheer. 
 
 But when our work is rightly done 
 The greater heaven has long begun. 
 But when we sit and weep and wail 
 For wrongs, and griefs, and beings frail. 
 And long for death, and moan, and sigh, 
 We lose the heaven that's just close by. 
 
 i6 
 
HE BEHELD THE CITY AND WEPT 
 
 Luke 19:41. 
 
 'Twas in the olden days long gone 
 
 When Christ was here with men, 
 
 He wept and worked. What would He now 
 Were He on earth again? 
 
 What would our cities with their dirt, 
 
 Their sorrow and their sin, 
 Our women fallen, men filled with greed, 
 
 What would they seem to Him ? 
 
 li He should see where creatures work, 
 
 In stifling dens of dust, 
 Lint-laden air so filled with germs, 
 
 For bread — tho' but a crust, — 
 
 Could He but see the hungry child 
 Search refuse barrels for food, 
 
 For cast-off food, or bits of bread. 
 Which, finding, tasted good, — 
 
 Could He see gaunt-faced, starving babes 
 
 Moan in their fitful sleep. 
 And gasp for air, and die, — methinks 
 
 Again would Jesus weep. 
 
 17 
 
As He saw misers — made from men — 
 Give measures false for gold, 
 
 As He saw honor daily slain, 
 And virtue daily sold, 
 
 The poisoned food we each must eat. 
 The death-draughts we all drink. 
 
 The laws that crush the poor and shield 
 The rich, — He'd weep, I think. 
 
 What would He say of churches fine? 
 
 What temple would He seek, 
 When creeds are fighting other creeds 
 
 Tho "God" is preached each week? 
 
 Oh what is faith without the work? 
 
 Christ's spirit is here still 
 Proclaiming brotherhood to men; 
 
 Let's work with right good will. 
 
 Let's make this earth a habitat 
 
 Where love and peace shall reign. 
 
 Where Christ need shed no tear of grief 
 Should He come back again. 
 
 i8 
 
OH, I LOVES YOU 
 
 When the world seems dark and dreary, 
 
 And the sun has ceased to shine, 
 And a gloom is hov'ring o'er you 
 
 As you see your hopes decline, 
 Then you almost feel like sinking 
 
 'Neath the load that's tiring you, 
 Till you hear a childish whisper: 
 
 **Oh, I loves you, 'deed I do." 
 
 Then two little arms fold 'round you. 
 
 And two blue eyes meet your own, 
 And two little feet climb lapward, — 
 
 "Mamma, dear, Fs dis tum home. 
 I's been playin, wif my dolly. 
 
 But I's tired. I wanted you." 
 And the little lips come closer, 
 
 "Oh, I loves you, 'deed I do." 
 
 Childhood trust dispels the sorrow; 
 
 Baby lips kiss grief away; 
 How could eyes be filled with teardrops? 
 
 "Tears det in the baby's way." 
 So you wipe away the grief signs 
 
 As you look in eyes of blue. 
 Then the baby, laughing, whispers: 
 
 "Oh, I loves you, 'deed I do." 
 19 
 
May this childish faith ne'er waver. 
 
 Clasp and keep that love your own. 
 Let not grief, nor acts unworthy 
 
 Kill the fruit of good seeds sown. 
 Oh may heaven keep you worthy 
 
 Of this child's love, pure and true. 
 May her words e'er cheer your pathway : 
 
 "Oh, I loves you, 'deed I do." 
 
 TO PROF. 
 
 Life, thou art a sad thing 
 
 If we stop to mourn, 
 If we look for sorrow 
 
 And shed our tears forlorn. 
 
 Life, thou art a glad thing 
 
 If a smile we try, 
 If to grief and trouble 
 
 We say: ''My friend, goodbye.' 
 
 Life, thou art a wise thing, 
 
 Glad am I to live, 
 To love, and weep, and labor, 
 
 And strength to others give. 
 
 20 
 
GOD'S MYSTERIES 
 
 Like children at play have we wandered along; 
 
 The noontide of life, now o'ehead, 
 Bids us pause and in calm, careful thought here today 
 
 See the motive by which we are led 
 Away from the rush of the harsh, hustling world, 
 
 Away from its clamor and greed. 
 To the solace of friendship and the sweetness of rest. 
 
 To partake of the food our souls need; 
 
 To sit in the silence and ask of our souls : 
 
 "Oh whither? Oh wherefore? Oh what? 
 And, Oh soul of mine, tell me, has life been in vain? 
 
 For we come thus today to be taught." 
 But hark ! As we listen a voice seems to say : 
 
 "Oh heart that is longing to hear 
 Of God's mysteries, ye will not seek them in vain, 
 
 For 'tis love that shall make them all clear. 
 
 "Not love such as asks for its service a price, 
 
 But love that is willing to give — 
 Aye, sacrifice all, then go on its way, 
 
 Only glad to help some soul to live. 
 'Tis love such as this that will bind thee to men 
 
 Who cannot sink hopeless in sin; 
 For thine eyes looking Godward, thy hand reaching down 
 
 To thy brother's, their hearts thou canst win. 
 
 21 
 
"And God, — is He not but the essence of Love? 
 
 And thou but a part of the whole? 
 Then why call aught mystery? Thou, part of Him, 
 
 Thou canst know if thou wilt. Seek the goal. 
 Tis "amo," not "credo," the key that solves all. 
 
 When love pure and true fills thy soul 
 Till it crowds out all selfishness, envy, and strife, 
 
 Thou wilt know, and can fathom the whole. 
 
 "And so the voice ceases. A silence now reigns. 
 
 But peace hath been granted to me; 
 And that once restless longing to know what and where 
 
 Has been granted. Now plainly I see 
 That I and my Father are one and the same; 
 
 I need but assert birth divine. 
 As to whither — Oh, God, where Thou art I shall be, 
 
 So all power and knowledge are mine." 
 
 22 
 
DON'T LET THE SONGS DIE IN 
 YOUR HEART 
 
 Don't let the songs die in your heart 
 
 Because of minor strains; 
 The sweetest music is the best 
 
 Because of sad refrains. 
 
 Don't let life's greed crush out the good; 
 
 Share with the world your all. 
 Be thoughtful of your fellow men 
 
 And good to you will fall. 
 
 Don't let life's sorrow crush its joy. 
 
 Let smiles shine through the tears 
 And they will stop their briny flow. 
 
 Let hope crowd out the fears. 
 
 Don't let despair creep in your heart; 
 
 Life's skies are clear and blue. 
 Just hope, and trust, and work, my friends; 
 
 Success will come to you. 
 
 Don't let the songs die in your heart 
 But smile and work on still; 
 
 Your songs will cheer some saddened life 
 And with new hope will thrill. 
 
 Then smile and sing. Let this old world 
 Resound with songs and cheers. 
 
 Life's postlude is a glad Amen — 
 Glad both for joys and tears. 
 23 
 
THE STAR OF TRUTH 
 
 I followed a star, 
 
 And through the wild woods of despair it has led, 
 And from a rough banquet of grief it has fed. 
 Until, in the stillness of night, I have cried : 
 "Oh star, why from joy have I thus been denied? 
 In faith I have followed wherever you went. 
 But was I for grief and for loneliness sent 
 Away from the haunts and the harvests of glee?" 
 The star seemed to say: "Follow me. Follow me." 
 
 I followed the star, 
 
 And soon in the darkness I felt at my side 
 
 A poor fallen sister, who pleadingly cried 
 
 And begged me to lead her out on to truth's way. 
 
 And then from the star came a strange flick'ring ray 
 
 As I took her hand, and together we went 
 
 To where, in its silence, that lonely star sent. 
 
 And tho' to the world would that comrade mean naught. 
 
 Yet some way a strange silent sweetness she brought. 
 
 We followed the star. 
 
 The pathway grew brighter; the thorns were no more. 
 And on, far beyond, was the goal, I was sure. 
 Soon lo! in our pathway we met some strange men 
 Who, weary of traveling, had fainted; and then 
 From out of the water that flowed near our feet. 
 We bathed their poor foreheads. I'm sure it was sweet 
 To feel the cool touch, for they brokenly said: 
 "God bless you." I knew by the star we'd been led. 
 
 24 
 
We followed the star, 
 
 And they, gained in strength, went along with us, too. 
 And some way their faith in the star grew and grew. 
 We passed a small village of people, and they 
 Inquired as we passed: "Oh where do you stray?" 
 "We follow the star, and it leads to the goal, 
 The goal of true greatness, the hope of the soul." 
 So, leaving their homes, they curious, went 'long. 
 I told of love's star, and we sang love's sweet song. 
 
 We followed the star. 
 
 Wherever we met with disease or with grief 
 
 We'd bind up their wounds, and we'd give them relief. 
 
 Through cities, and valleys, and deserts we marched, 
 
 And working, forgot that our hearts had been parched, 
 
 And selfish, and seared, in the days now long passed. 
 
 Then some way our journey seemed ended at last. 
 
 The star stood above me in heaven's bright blue, — 
 
 That star I had followed so faithful and true. 
 
 I followed the star. 
 
 It led me through grief to the joy of today. 
 
 And when was the change, I'm sure I can't say. 
 
 I looked back to see, and beheld a vast crowd 
 
 Of bright happy faces; they cheered long and loud. 
 
 I looked at the star. It was changed. It was GOD. 
 
 For I had but followed the path Jesus trod. 
 
 No creed had I claimed, but the star led the way 
 
 Unto this, love's most perfect and bright endless day. 
 
 25 
 
TO HARVEY A. FULLER 
 
 The Blind Author, Lecturer and Poet, 
 
 Yes, in our worldly way we say "He's blind." 
 But it oft seems that we are blinded, too. 
 
 In peevish haste, like children, do we cry 
 
 At fate. But thou canst bravely bear (and do) 
 
 Thy burden, and, in shadows dark, 
 
 Pursue thy path with not a cry or moan, 
 
 And in the silence of thy darkened way 
 
 Drink deep of sorrows that we have not known. 
 
 While thou dost tread where darkened shadows play 
 And only list to what we hear and see, 
 
 Thy heart, so consecrated pure and brave. 
 Sees beauties that for us may never be. 
 
 We see the richness of the flower tints; 
 
 Their sweeter fragrance with thee do we share; 
 But to thy listening ear they breathe a song 
 
 In metered measure that we never hear. 
 
 Yes, fair the world that thou canst ne'er more see. 
 And sweet the tints of blossom and of leaf; 
 
 But fair indeed thy world of sweet content 
 
 Unmlarred by bitterness, undimmed by grief. 
 26 
 
Oh, may each day bring peace to thee and thine, 
 
 And health, and love, and of life's store the best. 
 
 And when the curtain lifts for perfect day 
 Sweet be thy passage to the land of rest. 
 
 TO MRS. P. 
 
 A worded thought that's just thine own, 
 
 A verse for thee, for thee alone? 
 
 What shall it breathe to thee, my friend. 
 
 What message to thy heart must send? 
 
 What shall I wish for thee : Joy ? Health ? 
 
 Power? Fame? Or shall it be, dear, wealth? 
 
 Nay, rather would I wish the thing 
 
 That shall all these forever bring — 
 
 I wish that love, unbounded, true, 
 
 (Unknown by some life's journey through) 
 
 Might come and fill thy very soul 
 
 And bind life's parts in one great whole 
 
 And bless thee dear, in joy or pain. 
 
 This is my wish. Please God, amen. 
 
 27 
 
SLUMBER SONG 
 
 Close thine eyes, little darling, 
 
 Let sweet slumber bring thee rest. 
 
 Naught can harm my baby sweetheart 
 While she sleeps on mother's breast. 
 
 All too soon the years will claim thee, 
 So let mother hold thee now; 
 
 Let my loving arms enfold thee ; 
 Let my kisses press thy brow. 
 
 Slumber sweetly, little darling, 
 
 Angels watch thee in thy sleep ; 
 
 Angel forms are hovering o'er thee 
 And all dangers from thee keep. 
 
 Ah, thou smilest in thy dreaming ! 
 
 What, my darling, dost thou see? 
 Oh, I would the smiles might linger, 
 
 I would shed all tears for thee. 
 
 I would bear each heartache, darling, 
 I would kiss each pain away; 
 
 For I love thee, Oh my baby. 
 
 Just how much thou'lt know some day. 
 28 
 
When thine own arms hold a loved one. 
 And thy heart aches with a fear 
 
 Lest the coming years bring sorrow 
 To that babe thou'lt prize so dear. 
 
 Then thou'lt know how mother loved thee 
 Baby mine, so fair and sweet ; 
 
 Now thou slumb'rest caring little 
 As my lips thy fingers meet. 
 
 Slumber sweetly. Angels bless thee, 
 
 Oh my baby — only mine — 
 Oh how much I love thee, darling, 
 
 Thou wilt know sometime — sometime. 
 
 29 
 
THE DAY IS DEAD 
 
 The evening's soft gray mantles fall; 
 The night's dim shadows cover all; 
 The day is dead and buried now, 
 And to its records I must bow. 
 
 What do they show of good or ill? 
 What work accomplished, and what still 
 Remains to do? The night's release 
 Has brought to me a sense of peace. 
 
 What tho my work has not been fair? 
 *Twas done in faith and done with care, 
 My best. 'Tis all I have to show. 
 Christ would not ask me more, I know. 
 
 What tho resolves have come to naught; 
 The rainbow vanished that I sought. 
 The morrow's sun a new hope brings, 
 "Try, try again" my heart it sings. 
 
 Why should I grieve? My hope deferred 
 Hath in my soul ambition stirred. 
 What tho tonight I am not all 
 I hoped to be, I will not fall, 
 30 
 
Nor falter in my life's great work. 
 No step I'll. miss, no duty shirk. 
 Tonight will grant me peace and rest. 
 The morn will bring whatever's best. 
 
 The day is dead, and with the morn 
 New strength is given, new hope is born. 
 So midnight hours are dear to me. 
 Oh shades of night, I welcome thee. 
 
 YOUR DREAM 
 
 And so you would dream of me, dear friend, 
 
 And clasp me to your heart, 
 Then steal far away from this wideawake world 
 
 (Where we now live far apart,) 
 
 And there in love's dreamland we'd forget 
 
 That life was hard and stern; 
 And then in your dream, where no miles intervene, 
 
 Our eager lips need not burn 
 
 In vain with desire; for dreamland would bring 
 
 To each the heart's demand; 
 And hand would clasp hand, and our hearts would beat 
 fast 
 
 While trodding paths in dreamland. 
 
 31 
 
THE NARROW PATH 
 
 The way is long and tedious; 
 
 The thorns hath wounded thee; 
 Thy heart, perchance, is bitter 
 
 When, looking, thou dost see 
 The broader path, where marching 
 
 Are thousands lingering 'long 
 Bedecked in fairer raiment, — 
 
 A happy, careless throng. 
 
 But canst thou see their pathway. 
 
 Its ending and its length? 
 To trod the short and narrow 
 
 Requires the greater strength. 
 To thee is given the choosing; 
 
 Yet all roads lead to God, — 
 The long and oft-retrodden. 
 
 The short that Jesus trod. 
 
 Then wilt thou loiter idly 
 
 Among the careless throng 
 That gathers ease and pleasures? 
 
 Or bravely march along 
 With those who fight and suffer, 
 
 With those whose tear drops fall 
 To moisten lips that're thirsting, 
 
 Who cheer the hearts that call — 
 32 
 
Aye, call for aid and kindness 
 
 That cross-borne souls can give, 
 Who, having fought and conquered. 
 
 Can help their brothers live. 
 Aye, tho thy feet are wounded, 
 
 Thy soul storm tossed and tried, 
 And tho the peopled pathway 
 
 Is tempting, fair and wide, 
 
 Thy sorrow here is victory 
 
 That brings a crown to thee 
 In aeons that are coming, 
 
 When others still will be 
 Retrodding earth-worn pathways 
 
 To win their crown like thee. 
 So bravely bear, nor falter; 
 
 Earth's sorrows soon will flee. 
 
 Earth trials well borne and conquered 
 
 Will bring to thee sweet peace; 
 Temptations met, resisted. 
 
 From sorrow bring release. 
 I hear the angel voices — 
 
 They're speaking to thee now: 
 "Be brave a little longer 
 
 And peace will crown thy brow." 
 
 33 
 
WILD WOODS QUERIES 
 
 The shade, sun-spotted, and entrancing, cool, 
 Beneath the waving branches of the elms, 
 
 Is an oasis for my weary feet, 
 
 And Oh its silence all my soul o'erwhelms. 
 
 When careworn, here I lie and dream sweet dreams 
 And world-free fancies flit all through my brain; 
 
 And hopes I dare not utter to the world 
 
 Come straggling back into my heart again. 
 
 Nor law, nor cult, nor creed can say them nay ; 
 
 For God and love and peace once more are mine; 
 And all the texts and sermons needed now 
 
 Are writ by nature's holy Scribe divine. 
 
 The shining sun, grown weary of its trail 
 
 Across the sky, sinks now from out my sight; 
 
 And all in slumber leaves the weary world 
 
 Lit only by the moon and stars so bright. 
 
 And here in all the solemn silence, lone, 
 
 Unbroken, only by the hoot of owl, 
 I sit and think and ponder questions deep : 
 
 When will I be united to the whole 
 
 34 
 
Of this vast sphere of which I am a part? 
 
 And need I live this earth life o'er again? 
 And will the pangs I suffer now decrease 
 
 The sorrow in my next life, and the pain? 
 
 And some way, something seems to answer "Aye." 
 
 Perchance it is the wind, or my own breath. 
 Be what it may, for me it brings sweet peace 
 And takes away all fear and sting of "death." 
 
 Perchance a spirit from the other world 
 
 (Which, after all, cannot be far away,) 
 
 Had heard the query which I asked my soul, 
 
 And paused to answer, ere it passed away. 
 
 Again I ask: When comes the end of all, 
 Will e'en one soul be left apart, alone, 
 
 And stretch its hand yet touch no kindred one. 
 And be apart from all its loved, and known? 
 
 Once more I pause to list for a reply. 
 
 Again does something softly whisper "Nay." 
 I hear no more, but Oh how sweet to feel 
 
 That not one soul is lost in that last day. 
 
 And so I sit and ponder questions deep 
 
 Till flutt'ring wings and chirpings sweet overhead 
 
 Proclaim the dawn of day has come once more ; 
 And rays of light are shining overhead. 
 
 I slowly wend my way back to the town, 
 
 Where toil and sorrow hold a daily sway; 
 
 Where life and love are also to be found. 
 
 And I, refreshed, begin my duties of the day. 
 35 
 
BLINDED 
 
 Your blinded eyes look far beyond 
 
 For some great work to do, 
 When all along your daily path 
 
 There is so much for you. 
 
 How could you hope for greater fields 
 
 When duties lie unseen 
 Around your door ? The sheaves are bound 
 
 And stand for you to glean. 
 
 Why seek for souls across the seas 
 When men are starving here 
 
 For one kind act of brotherhood, 
 For just a word to cheer? 
 
 Why shun the acts Christ did so oft? 
 
 The blind man by the way, 
 The erring woman at the well, — 
 
 You pass them every day. 
 
 And yet you see them — know them not, 
 
 Or, seeing, pass them by. 
 Could you not heed their eager looks, 
 
 Or hear their plaintive cry ? 
 36 
 
Just pause to look around your path; 
 
 There's plenty you can do. 
 Don't seek a work beyond your sphere, 
 
 There's work right here for you. 
 
 NATURE'S RHYME 
 
 You ask me why I write in rhyme ? 
 
 All nature speaks in meter. 
 And when I voice my thoughts in verse 
 
 I'm sure that it is sweeter. 
 
 The surge of sea, the wings of birds. 
 Beat with a rhythmic measure; 
 
 The leap of deer, or tread of man, 
 All come in metered leisure. 
 
 The toss of bow that snaps and waves, 
 The throb of heart in sorrow, 
 
 The day with all its hopes and fears. 
 And night that brings the morrow. 
 
 You ask me why I love to rhyme? 
 
 All nature speaks in measure. 
 And that my thoughts like nature come, 
 
 I feel 'tis quite a treasure. 
 
 Z7 
 
TELEPATHY 
 
 Once upon a midnight lately, 
 
 As the trees, so tall and stately, 
 
 Cast their wavering, ghostly shadows on my bed. 
 
 Did my wayward thoughts go wandering 
 
 As I lay there, restless, pondering, 
 
 Dreaming dreams that years ago I thought long dead. 
 
 But my life had been most dreary, 
 
 And my eyelids, growing weary. 
 
 So I turned to seek a dreamless, restful sleep ; 
 
 But a pair of blue eyes gleaming 
 
 Kept me from all peaceful dreaming. 
 
 Seemed to say: "A midnight vigil we will keep." 
 
 So at last I ceased from trying, 
 
 Since those eyes were sleep-defying; 
 
 To my window then I crept and sat and thought : 
 
 Why should eyes so blue thus haunt me. 
 
 With their merry twinkling taunt me? 
 
 And a reason for their presence vainly sought. 
 
 But the moonbeams' light now failing. 
 And the winds through treetops sailing, 
 Brought no answer in the silence back to me. 
 So I crept back to my slumbers 
 While the clock ticked countless numbers; 
 But in dreams those sparkling eyes were still with me. 
 
 38 
 
Then a voice so soft, beguiling, 
 
 From sweet lips in mischief smiling. 
 
 In my dreamland solved this problem, said to me 
 
 As I lay there silent, sleeping, 
 
 Still in dreams that vigil keeping: 
 
 "In these midnight hours I, too, have thought of thee. 
 
 TO LITTLE "I WILL" 
 
 Little boy with eyes of blue. 
 What has life in store for you? 
 Will its sorrow dim your eyes. 
 Or great joy bring you surprise? 
 
 Little boy with heart so true, 
 
 What life is will rest with you. 
 
 Yours 'twill be to do and dare. 
 
 With father's help and mother's prayer. 
 
 Little darling blue-eyed boy, 
 You will be a parent's joy. 
 Shun all false and all deceit. 
 Purely, truly, all things meet. 
 
 Bravely, nobly, live your best, 
 God and fate will do the rest. 
 Persevere. Aim high. Do right. 
 God be with you day and night. 
 
 39 
 
TO MRS. F. T. 
 
 God bless thee, dear, for all thy love. 
 
 Such hearts as thine, my friend, are few. 
 God made thee thus to cheer and bless. 
 
 He gave thee grief, for w^ell He knew 
 
 That sorrow makes us tender, kind; 
 
 A widow made He, dear, of thee 
 That thou couldst sympathize with all 
 
 And know the longing that must be 
 
 Entrenched within the hearts of all. 
 
 A mother made He of thee, dear. 
 That mother-love (so strong in thee) 
 
 Should be augmented; far and near 
 
 Its touch should bless each childless heart. 
 Each heart that mourns a baby kiss. 
 
 Whose lips feel ne'er a baby touch. 
 Aye, many women mourn for this. 
 
 He gave thee insight to each soul; 
 
 He leads thee up by steps so steep 
 That sometimes thou dost faint and fall, 
 
 And ofttimes thou hast stopped to weep. 
 40 
 
But, dear, this sense of love and truth 
 
 (That comes from joy, and tears, and fear, 
 
 All sweetly blended,) will make thee 
 Great and strong. Let not a tear 
 
 Bedim thine eyes. Let not a doubt 
 
 Find room, perchance, thy heart to sear. 
 
 Just hope, and love, and work, and trust, 
 God keep and bless thee always, dear. 
 
 POLLY MAKE-BELIEVE 
 
 Little Polly make-believe 
 
 With her roguish eye 
 Says "I'll read this book for you, 
 
 Just wait and I will try." 
 
 Then Polly, in her grandma's specs, 
 Sits and looks most wise; 
 
 You would think she surely knew 
 Save for those twinkling eyes. 
 
 But some way thoughts are far between 
 
 Polly's good at tricks, 
 But not impromptu reading books. 
 
 For Polly's only six. 
 
 41 
 
FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY 
 MR. AND MRS. R. 
 
 Fifty years ago today, friends, 
 
 Aye, this year, 
 Our hearts were bound and hands united 
 
 Without one fear. 
 Years passed Hghtly, some passed gravely. 
 Yet our trials we both met bravely 
 
 Year by year. 
 
 Darkened locks were changed to silver 
 
 Year by year; 
 Yet our youthful love grew purer 
 
 And more dear. 
 And the dark and stormy weather 
 Seemed but brief, for both together 
 
 Faced each fear. 
 
 Now the dawn of life is fading 
 
 Year by year; 
 Yet the future has no shading 
 
 In our fear. 
 One of us may be left lonely 
 For a time, a short time only, 
 
 Lone and drear. 
 42 
 
When we pass through death's dim portals 
 
 Shed no tear. 
 We have tried to give but gladness 
 
 While v^^e're here. 
 May the kind words we have spoken 
 Never die, but linger with you 
 
 Year by year. 
 
 QUERY 
 
 Oh were we born each like a star, 
 To shine a while, then disappear, 
 To brighten sorrow, give forth light, 
 Then fade away and say "goodnight?" 
 
 Or does our light seek other spheres 
 And grow in brightness with the years, 
 And merging finally with the sun 
 Till both are blended into one? 
 
 43 
 
GIVE JOY 
 
 If you know a thought that's pleasant, 
 
 Tell it. Tell it to the world; 
 
 For if kept it betters no one, 
 
 And we need good thoughts to grow on. 
 
 Worded thoughts may brighten. 
 
 Spoken thoughts may lighten 
 
 Heavy burdens for the weary earth. 
 
 Then speak out ; reveal your pleasure ; 
 
 Share with all ; conceal no treasure 
 
 Of the mind, but tell. Oh tell your mirth. 
 
 If you know a song of beauty, 
 Sing it. Sing it for mankind. 
 Let the tones ring loud and joyous; 
 'Tis but discord that annoys us. 
 Cheerful songs are pleasant; 
 Grief is always present 
 To be stifled, crushed by mirth and song. 
 Make thy songs for sorrow healing, 
 Though thy grief thou art concealing, 
 Then thy sorrow cannot linger long. 
 44 
 
Can you give a smile, a hand-grasp, 
 
 That will cheer us on our way? 
 
 Can you lighten some one's sorrow? 
 
 Can you some one's burden borrow? 
 
 Borrow it to bury. 
 
 Give instead words merry. 
 
 Let the world share of your joy and love. 
 
 Give the best that is within you. 
 
 Let but truth and virtue win you. 
 
 Then this world will be akin to heaven above. 
 
 A THOUGHT 
 
 A thought for thee that thou canst call 
 
 Thine own? A thought that's not for all? 
 
 In prose or rhyme wouldst have it be? 
 
 Dear friend, this shall I wish for thee: 
 
 A heart that's brave for any storm, 
 
 A heart that does not fear to mourn, 
 
 A mind that's filled with thoughts e'er pure, 
 
 A noble life, that when 'tis o'er 
 
 We'll miss and mourn our noble friend. 
 
 In thee may honor, goodness blend. 
 
 45 
 
AN INSPIRATION 
 
 With tear-blinded eyes and a grief-burdened heart, 
 
 In the dimming of evening I stood 
 In my room, and my soul, like the room, was enclosed 
 
 With the walls of my sad, bitter mood. 
 
 The best that was in me I buried from sight 
 
 And I covered it deep by my grief, 
 And I cared not, nor sought not, (I nursed all my wrath) 
 
 To uncover that God for relief. 
 
 And careless for mood or appearance was I, 
 
 Altho knowing a stranger would be 
 Soon a guest; (what cared I when the world went so 
 wrong?) 
 
 I was nothing to him; he, to me. 
 
 So long have I looked for my other soul self 
 Who would bring to me love fervent, pure. 
 
 That I dreamed not that Cupid was knocking tonight; 
 So I carelessly opened the door. 
 
 And there stood my hero of day dreams oft dreamed; 
 
 My ideal of long dreary years ; 
 One long, hungering look in his soulful blue eyes, 
 
 And my heart cast away all its fears. 
 46 
 
I sat and I listened to words wondrous wise 
 
 On the topics so dear to my heart, 
 Tho 'twere themes that the world would deem mystic and 
 vague ; 
 
 But to me of my life the best part. 
 
 Each word that he uttered, each glance that he gave 
 Enthralled me and held me spell bound ; 
 
 Then the dreary old world seemed to vanish from sight, 
 And a heaven long sought for seemed found. 
 
 Oh love, undimmed and untarnished by lust. 
 
 Nor narrowed by one selfish thought, 
 Oft of thee have I dreamed in the long bitter hours. 
 
 And thy soul I so often have sought. 
 
 Dear, I could have knelt at thy feet, giving all 
 That a loving, pure wife could bestow; 
 
 To be clasped in thine arms and to meet lip with lip 
 Were the sweetest earth-heaven I know. 
 
 And tonight the touch of thy hand thrilled me so 
 That it seemed I must clasp it and hold. 
 
 Lest thy spirit should vanish from me once again, 
 But I could not be so seeming bold. 
 
 And when thou hadst gone and I sat here alone, 
 I prayed: "Oh, my God, give me strength 
 
 Just to make myself fit for a love such as his. 
 
 And, when worthy, wilt Thou grant it at length?" 
 
 47 
 
FOR EVERY CROSS A CROWN 
 
 My road, sometimes so dark, so lone, 
 Has shadows hovering ever near, 
 Has days and nights dark cursed by fear, 
 
 And yet it is my road, my own. 
 
 It is a road of patience, pain, 
 
 Both for myself and those so dear. 
 Sometimes the end does not seem near, 
 
 And doubt comes surging through my brain. 
 
 Not doubt of what shall be the end. 
 
 Not fear lest I might lose my strength 
 And falter on the road at length, 
 
 But doubt if love and duty blend. 
 
 My road leads up to heights unknown; 
 
 The end is not a dream to me; 
 
 Its goal you cannot, do not see; 
 I know my road ; it is my own. 
 
 No other feet can tread my path; 
 
 No other heart can share my grief; 
 
 Or wear my crown when comes relief; 
 'Tis mine alone, the aftermath. 
 
What matters when the goal is great? 
 
 What tho ply road is pain and tears? 
 
 What tho my day is filled with fears? 
 I will not cry or fret at fate. 
 
 For Oh the glory of my way. 
 
 I know each tear drop that must fall 
 Makes brighter some dark spot for all, 
 
 Brings sunshine in some cloudy day. 
 
 Without a murmur or a moan 
 
 I'll scatter seeds of joy, and give 
 From out my store to all that live. 
 
 And thus will earn my crown, my own. 
 
 49 
 
TO 
 
 I wish 'twere mine the power to send 
 The thoughts to help thee every day ; 
 
 I'd burden each with blessings rare 
 And roses sweet ere sent away. 
 
 But lest that power may not be mine, 
 And thoughts I send might go astray, 
 
 I'll send thee roses. Each shall bear 
 
 My New Year's greeting, dear, today. 
 
 The rich red rose true love doth mean; 
 
 The roses white are purity. 
 To thy heart's altar bring I both; 
 
 Each petal is a prayer for thee. 
 
 And tho our hands might ne'er more touch, 
 Or never more my lips meet thine, 
 
 My love would find thee miles away 
 
 And claim thy friendship. That is mine. 
 
 Now may each blossom bring to thee 
 
 Real wealth of friendship, health and lore 
 
 And may the fragrance of each rose 
 
 Breathe love and blessings o'er and o'er. 
 
 50 
 
OUR DUTY 
 
 We breed through lust. A babe is born 
 To grow and be as we have been. 
 
 When grown he sins. What do we then? 
 Forgive him for his inborn sin? 
 
 Not so. We clamor for revenge 
 
 And for an eye demand an eye 
 As did the men in ancient times. 
 
 "Forgive"— Christ's creed,— we pass it by. 
 
 Reform? Oh no, not we. "Revenge" 
 The slogan cry (if not in word 
 
 At least implied by acts of ours) 
 
 In every town and state is heard. 
 
 The future race lies in our hands. 
 
 Unfaithful we, unhonored they. 
 What shall we do? What shall they be? 
 
 An honored race? Or lustful? Nay. 
 
 Oh let us mould in perfect form 
 
 Then guard and guide with anxious care, 
 
 Lest baby feet shall stray away. 
 
 Let's work and watch with hope and prayer. 
 
 51 
 
THE MAN OF TOMORROW 
 
 The boy of today is the man of tomorrow. 
 Oh will he reap joy, or will he reap sorrow? 
 Let's ask of our hearts. What seed have we sown 
 That must, by our darlings, in years hence, be mown ? 
 
 Were industry's seeds scattered round in his path? 
 Or will he be dull in life's aftermath 
 Because we have failed to fit him for work? 
 Will he, for our carelessness, life's duties shirk? 
 
 The boy of today is the man of tomorrow, 
 
 And from our full hands he comes now to borrow 
 
 Of what from our store, we willingly give 
 
 To fit him for manhood and help him to live. 
 
 Has virtue been planted with care in his heart, 
 Or will, in sin's lust, he bear a sad part? 
 Has tenderness been the seed we have sown? 
 Then kindness and love is the field to be mown. 
 
 The boy of today is the man of tomorrow. 
 
 Will your boy and mine reap harvests of sorrow? 
 
 Oh father and mother, it rests now with you. 
 
 Have you sown the seed for a man pure and true? 
 
 52 
 
/ 
 
 THE PROBLEM OF LIFE 
 
 Life is a serious old problem, 
 
 And success is the answer to find. 
 
 Some say that luck has the solving; 
 
 But I know 'tis a question of mind. 
 
 Luck may bring money, I grant you, 
 But is gold all there is to this life? 
 
 Wealth cannot buy the real treasure. 
 
 Then don't make it the object of strife. 
 
 Life has its leaders and heroes; 
 
 But the most of us have to be led. 
 Duty is welcome to great men, 
 
 To the herd 'tis a matter of dread. 
 
 Rather than face each new trial 
 
 With a daring to battle it through. 
 
 Backward we sink, feeble-hearted, 
 As a cowardly craven would do. 
 
 Success is e'er founded on failure; 
 
 A misnomer is "luck," just a fake; 
 Men who succeed scorn its tempting. 
 
 And they keep hearts and brains wide awake. 
 
 S3 
 
All may work hard with the body, 
 
 But 'tis few who will work with the mind. 
 
 He who will use all his powers 
 
 Will soon rank with the great of mankind. 
 
 Life is a serious old problem. 
 
 Let us master its meaning right now. 
 Joy in the loving and giving, 
 
 And in doing, and in knowing just how. 
 
 Life has an easy solution 
 
 When we work with our heart and our brain. 
 Brain power grows with the using. 
 
 Have we failed in our task? Try again. 
 
 54 
 
TO W. 
 
 Alone by my window I'm sitting 
 And thinking, beloved, of you. 
 
 Of all the world's friendships, the true ones, 
 The pure ones, are few, very few. 
 
 The night winds are sobbing and sighing; 
 
 The moon casts its rays over all; 
 Yet Nature seems dreary and restless,— 
 
 For you doth my heart ever call. 
 
 Tonight as I sit by my window, 
 
 Alone in the starlight so clear, 
 Alone with my thoughts and my longing. 
 
 Oh, love, how I wish you were here. 
 
 I wish that your arms might enfold me 
 And take away from me this pain, 
 
 This heartche; for if you were with me 
 I'd never be lonely again. 
 
 And so here alone in the gloaming 
 I'm longing to see you again. 
 
 My soul cries to you in the distance 
 Tho knowing it calls all in vain. 
 55 
 
My soul cannot still this wild worship; 
 
 I love, and you know I am true. 
 Tho many fine courtiers woo me, 
 
 I love, dear, I love only you. 
 
 HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN? 
 
 Have you forgotten, Oh love of my heart, 
 
 Your sadly made promise when last we did part. 
 
 That you would still love me tho I cast away 
 
 Your love and your life that one cold, dreary day? 
 
 You knew not the treasure my heart held so deep; 
 
 I knew we must part if my power I'd keep. 
 
 Away from your life, as your queen, I would hold 
 
 My place in your heart, and so thus could unfold 
 
 The thing that was wisest for both you and me 
 
 Although it seemed cruel. It was best, don't you see? 
 
 56 
 
TOMORROW 
 
 I sat and grieved, for the way was dark; 
 
 I asked the "why" of my sorrow; 
 I moaned: "Oh when will the end e'er come?' 
 
 And something answered: "Tomorrow." 
 
 My heart beat faster as hope was born. 
 
 Would grief and pain soon be ended? 
 And something sighed as it then replied: 
 
 "No, pain and joy are e'er blended." 
 
 But still I waited to greet the morn; 
 
 I hoped for joy and for gladness, 
 And watching to see my hope fulfilled. 
 
 Forgot to look for the sadness. 
 
 Tomorrows came and tomorrows went; 
 
 The star of hope still grew brighter; 
 The faith I would have my share of joy 
 
 Had made my heart grow much lighter. 
 
 And so one day did love come my way. 
 
 And I forgot all my sorrow. 
 Then something whispered so soft to me : 
 
 "Ah, now has come your tomorrow." 
 57 
 
And in the light of my new-found love 
 I knew my joy was far dearer 
 
 For having grieved till sweet hope was born. 
 And hoped ; for faith brought it nearer. 
 
 And so to those who are mourning today, 
 Who sit and dwell on their sorrow. 
 
 Arise, have faith, and your grief will dim 
 And die in the joys of tomorrow. 
 
 Just hope, and hope, e'en the failures come. 
 
 If faith can move even mountains, 
 Why then, dear hearts, cannot faith dry up 
 
 The cause of sorrow's fountains? 
 
 Just watch for joy. Feel sure it will come; 
 
 The while forget all your sorrow. 
 And I am sure that kind fate will bring 
 
 For you a gladsome tomorrow. 
 
THE QUEST OF THE SOUL 
 
 The realm of ''All" is closed to mortal view; 
 The vast beyond is seen and sensed by few ; 
 And few, perchance, can read the mystic now; 
 They see the form and to its power bow. 
 
 They do not know within doth dwell the real, 
 And only time can this to them reveal. 
 We are not ever just the thing we seem. 
 Sometime, somewhere, we'll see the blinding beam 
 
 That dims our sight and dulls our listening ear 
 To truths and glories that are ever near. 
 When soul demands a wider, deeper view 
 Than that material knowledge which it knew, 
 
 And when our soul puts out an empty hand 
 And seeks for bread, I know 'twill understand. 
 Some day 'twill know that all there is, is here. 
 That knowledge lingers through our doubt and fear. 
 
 That all there is, is mine to grasp and hold, 
 And love and truth alone are purest gold. 
 Then, Oh my soul, be not content with rest, 
 But seek and search with earnest, eager quest. 
 
 59 
 
SERVICE, NOT SELF 
 
 He is great whose life is one of service; 
 
 Strength ne'er came by force unused, unsought. 
 Self should come the last. The world thy mission. 
 
 Cleanse thy mind from every selfish thought. 
 
 When thy heart is filled with fear or envy 
 Canst thou give the world thy very best? 
 
 When thou grievest over what thou deemest sorrow 
 Thou art failing on life's grander test. 
 
 Wouldst rejoice when 'round thee suffering lingers? 
 
 Hearts are grieving for a kind word thou canst say. 
 Oh, forget thy selfish grief in giving 
 
 Comfort to the weary hearts along the way. 
 
 Make each morn a dawning day of service. 
 
 Let the noontide see thy hand outstretched and filled, 
 And the night will find thy heart with joy o'erflowing. 
 
 Because another's grief thy loving words have stilled. 
 
 Didst thou linger 'long the way till perfect 
 
 Ere thou help to bind the master's sheaves. 
 
 In his harvest when the fruit is ripened 
 
 Thou, perchance, would nothing bear but leaves. 
 60 
 
Just a cup of water to the thirsting, 
 
 Even tho thy hand may not be white. 
 
 Just a glad word to the heart that's breaking, 
 Tho thine own life may not be all bright. 
 
 In the giving thou wilt find a blessing; 
 
 Each kind deed will bring return to thee; 
 And thy sin, o'er which thou hadst been fretting, 
 
 May be forgiven. Try, my friends, and see. 
 
 61 
 
RESURRECTED HOPE 
 
 Yes, I have loved, but love proved false; 
 
 Not even I could hold my power, 
 Or bind that love to me till death. 
 
 Although I tried. One fatal hour 
 
 A serpent, clothed in garments gay. 
 
 Crept to my throne and left its sting; 
 
 And love, at first rebellious, paused 
 
 And seeing, hungered; then took wing. 
 
 For one brief period it was mine; 
 
 And I, rejoicing in my right, 
 Knew not that it could tempted be 
 
 While mine, until I learned its flight. 
 
 And so, one dark and dismal morn. 
 Life's loneliness crept over me; 
 
 Then, in my grief, I looked around 
 For other happy homes, to see 
 
 What secret I had failed to learn; 
 
 What faults; since I had failed to hold 
 A virtuous love, of which I dreamed 
 
 Would last, because of pleadings bold. 
 62 
 
I sought and searched ; but other hearts 
 I found Hke mine, were seeking, too. 
 
 And living empty, loveless lives, 
 
 And drinking not of balm, but rue. 
 
 And so I dropped my quest of love, 
 
 That gleamed so golden in youth's morn,— 
 
 In merry, joyous, thoughtless youth 
 
 When pleasures breed and hopes are born. 
 
 But when false lustful lips can lead 
 
 Love's step away from home that's pure. 
 
 We realize how fragile, frail. 
 
 Love is, since wanton wiles allure. 
 
 The poet knew who said of love: 
 
 " 'Tis music, song, regret and tears." 
 
 When true, the heart sings out its joy; 
 
 When false, the soul moans out its fears. 
 
 And yet love pure need shed no tear 
 
 At death. Lust's reign lasts not for aye. 
 
 Bread cast out thus comes back again. 
 
 And e'en tho sodden, back 'twill stray. 
 
 And then the serpent heart will taste 
 
 The thing it sent, e'en though 'tis gall, 
 
 Must taste, and eat each crumb sent out, 
 E'en tho repenting tears may fall. 
 
 And I ? Well, having loved and lost, 
 And moaned my sorrow, ere I flung 
 
 The worthless carcass from my heart, 
 My lyre, in reborn hope, I strung. 
 63 
 
Once more my heart beat full of hope ; 
 
 And youth's ambition, not quite dead, 
 Nor crushed entirely from my heart, 
 
 (My weaker love when I was wed,) 
 
 Once more I say, those hopes dared rise. 
 And rising, bold, assert their sway; 
 
 And I, obeying their demand, 
 
 Breathe forth these fancies here today. 
 
 Henceforth for me a wider field 
 Than man alone; and if I sing 
 
 One humble song to cheer the heart, — 
 If courage, joy, my lines may bring 
 
 To other hearts, or e'en perchance. 
 
 To one sad soul among the throng, 
 
 I shall not deem my sorrow vain; 
 Shall not regret I sang the song. 
 
 But should some minor strains creep in. 
 Some lines be sad. Oh reader, say: 
 
 **This author, too, like us, has wept, 
 
 But conquered grief, as we all may." 
 
 64 
 
HELP THE WORLD 
 
 Let us moan, not that life's misery 
 
 Seemeth greater than its mirth; 
 Weeping eyes but dim our efforts ; 
 
 Let us work for all we're worth. 
 
 Let us help each fallen brother 
 
 With our outstretched willing hand; 
 
 As he faintly, weakly rises 
 
 Let us bravely by him stand. 
 
 Let us make some pale face brighter; 
 
 Give food that makes weak hearts grow strong; 
 Let us make a burden lighter 
 
 For some one as we go 'long. 
 
 Let us stop the wail of childhood 
 
 That grows fainter with each cry; 
 Let us stop the moans of mothers 
 
 That are struggling lest they die. 
 
 Let us jeer not at another, 
 
 For his path is not our own ; 
 And his harvest is his gath'ring, 
 
 For we reap what we have sown. 
 
 65 J 
 
Words are keen and actions caustic 
 
 When hate reigns within our brain; 
 
 And our scorn can send a brother 
 On a hellward road again. 
 
 What the world needs is not critics, 
 But 'tis models brave and strong; 
 
 Cease thou then thy condemnation ; 
 
 Help the world by love's sweet song. 
 
 66 
 
YOU CANNOT FORGET 
 
 You tread your path with smiling face, 
 Yet I alone the grief can trace. 
 You thought the day law made us twain 
 You could forget, but 'tis in vain. 
 
 You know the day you sought my side 
 And begged for hope to call me "bride?" 
 A rudely ended dream divine ! 
 For I'm not yours ; and you, not mine. 
 
 In daily life you hold your head 
 With genial smile and manly tread. 
 You think deceit will hide your past 
 And crush regret, that aye will last. 
 
 But way from sight and sound of men 
 An endless grief comes o'er you, when 
 On mem'ry's page you sadly trace 
 The love that's dead and baby's face. 
 
 And in those secret hours alone 
 
 Your heart cries for the love that's gone. 
 
 And tho no human eye can see 
 
 Your soul cries out for her and me. 
 
 67 
 
And thus your fate you cannot hide. 
 None other can be truly bride. 
 A magic spell binds you to me; 
 Its strength you cannot break or see. 
 
 For once you bound by seal and sign 
 My love and proudly said : " 'Tis mine." 
 But seal nor sign, nor law can hold 
 When only lustful arms enfold; 
 
 When kisses foul with stench of sin 
 From wanton lips could from you win 
 Your honor, virtue, manhood pure, 
 'Twas time our plighted days were o'er. 
 
 And so I left you to be free, 
 To bask in lust apart from me. 
 But this I know — you'll ne'er forget 
 A w^^fe and babe. For grief, regret. 
 
 And secret shame will dim each day 
 And shade each night where e'er you stray. 
 God's law cannot be disobeyed. 
 You sinned and now your sin is weighed. 
 
 68 
 
LOVE'S TOKEN 
 
 You ask me, dear, to send a kiss, 
 ril try to please you once in this. 
 You ask for length, "no tiny smack." 
 So if your lips no sweetness lack, 
 
 I'll linger long with right good will. 
 Come, sweetheart mine, and take your fill 
 Of nectar rare — of life's sweet wine. 
 Nor ask for more, beloved mine, 
 
 When hearts beat fast and pulses thrill, 
 And roses creep with right good will 
 O'er neck and cheeks and once pale brow. 
 But ere you sip, dear, you must vow 
 
 That I alone must o'er love reign 
 
 With you my slave, if oft again 
 
 You'd seek the source of love's sweet stream. 
 
 For kisses long (so like a dream 
 
 Ye gods, how sweet the while they last!) 
 May end in grief when they are past. 
 So, sweetheart mine, one head must rule; 
 Both hearts can love, if one keep cool. 
 
 Aye, Bobby knew the truth too well,-^ 
 The road to love can lead to hell. 
 But give this vow, beloved, to me, 
 And to your arms I'll gladly flee. 
 
 69 
 
LOVE VS. LAW 
 
 Law says I must not seek you, 
 Love says you're only mine; 
 
 And which shall rule, the man-made law. 
 Or God-made law divine? 
 
 Law bound you to another. 
 
 Love gave you all to me; 
 
 Shall priestly cant divide us, dear. 
 Or shall love set you free? 
 
 I would not ask you once, dear, 
 
 Did I not know your heart. 
 And that you scorn the hateful bond 
 
 That keeps us far apart. 
 
 God made no loveless marriage. 
 And thoughtlessness of youth 
 
 Should not be cursed a lifetime, dear, 
 But overcome by truth. 
 
 And e'en tho law divides us, 
 
 Love pleads my case for me. 
 
 Shall priestly cant divide us, dear, 
 Or shall love set you free? 
 
 70 
 
LONGING 
 
 Perchance, dear friend, my lines may seem 
 Unwelcome, since unsought; 
 
 But still my heart goes out to thee, 
 And can it be for naught? 
 
 I cannot still my longing, dear, 
 
 To be with thee tonight. 
 I pray that God may keep thee safe 
 
 In paths of truth and right. 
 
 I cannot still this earnest wish 
 To place my hand in thine 
 
 And see within thine eyes the love 
 That thou hast said was mine. 
 
 What tho 'tis love but for a day? 
 
 Can pure love come amiss, 
 And could it die at close of day 
 
 If sanctioned with a kiss? 
 
 Can love that's pure e'er dim the day 
 That gave it birth, sweetheart? 
 
 The joy it brought would linger still 
 And of all life be part. 
 71 
 
In future days when love was not, 
 The heart would still recall 
 
 The sweetness of one loving kiss 
 In which love gave its all. 
 
 And so tonight wouldst thou wert here 
 
 Sweetheart so far away. 
 May angels watch and guide thee, dear, 
 
 Through every night and day. 
 
 72 
 
A REPLY 
 
 You ask of me, did I forget 
 
 The days that once we thought so dear. 
 Dear friend, it sadly grieves me now 
 
 That in thy heart should be one fear 
 Lest I, midst new and binding ties, 
 Remember not. 
 
 A wife was I, and also thou; 
 
 And yet that severed not our tie; 
 And still another sweeter bond 
 
 Hath come to both, for you and I 
 Have kissed sweet childish lips. To both 
 Came motherhood. 
 
 Alike have we each lived our lives 
 Apart, and yet in love, still one. 
 
 Our thoughts for each as firm and true 
 As when our friendship first begun. 
 
 The years now passed since "long ago" 
 Have been our test. 
 
 And glad am I that sorrow great 
 
 Has furrowed not thy brow so fair; 
 
 Nor hath great sadness come to me. 
 
 The silver strands that in my hair 
 
 Thou seest, came from time's own touch, 
 And not from grief. 
 
 73 
 
'Twas in those olden days, dear friend, 
 I set my love in rhyme for thee. 
 
 Today I read those simple lines 
 
 I wrote when thou and I were free, 
 
 And not a care to come between. 
 But now we're bound. 
 
 And so, my friend, though oft thy heart 
 Has called to me and I came not. 
 
 Yet still my thoughts have been of thee. 
 My love to thee has gone unsought 
 
 Each day. Has not some unseen elf 
 Told thee my thoughts? 
 
 Let thine own heart be judge for thee 
 
 When thou must ask "has she forgot?' 
 
 Thou knowest well my love is thine. 
 Cast off all fears, distrust me not. 
 
 Thy friend I'll be till death do part; 
 Till death, dear friend. 
 
 74 
 
MISSING SAMBO 
 
 Daylight was grown tired when little Sambo crept away 
 Just to hear the white folks talk and see their children 
 
 play. 
 Peeking through the fence he sat, and soon fell fast asleep ; 
 When his mammy called him he in slumberland was deep. 
 
 She hunts him in the woodshed, but no darkey boy is 
 
 found ; 
 He answers not her calling for he's sleeping, Oh so sound. 
 "He's done gone in the roadside." She goes out there 
 
 to see. 
 But not a sight of kinky head. "Oh where, Oh where is 
 
 he?" 
 
 "De debil must a cotched him. I find him not a place. 
 I tinks I hunted eberywhar, but I can't fin' a trace." 
 She hunted in the cellar, and behind the stove and door. 
 "Why sure, he must be in the barn." She did not think 
 before. 
 
 She hopes she soon will find him, her little kinky head. 
 'Tis late and little coon is missing from his trundle bed. 
 She looks in every horse's stall, and in the hay-mow high. 
 Then little Sambo wakens up, and gives a sleepy sigh. 
 
 75 
 
When mammy starts back to the house she sees a shadow 
 
 small 
 Just sitting there beside the fence. She gives a joyful 
 
 call. 
 And when he runs to her she hugs his kinky little head, 
 And now no coon is missing from his little trundle bed. 
 
 NEW HOPE 
 
 Every morn should bring new hope 
 That life has been reborn once more, 
 That all our past, so full of grief 
 And marred by error, now is o'er. 
 Every morn should find grief gone 
 And buried with the night that's past; 
 For grief and sin live not for aye. 
 And only love and truth can last. 
 For both are good and good is God, 
 And all his lawte are wise and just. 
 Let every morn find hearts refilled 
 With joy, ambition, love and trust. 
 
 7(^ 
 
MY PROMISE 
 
 Last evening the old year lay dying; 
 
 His form had grown weary and wan. 
 We fain would have kept him still longer, 
 
 But while we were watching he'd gone. 
 
 As Time bore the corpse from our presence 
 The young, happy New Year came in. 
 
 He held in his arms precious talents 
 
 And said : "These are yours if you win ; 
 
 I gladly will give you the moments; 
 
 In you lies the power to do; 
 There's naught to prevent if you say so, 
 
 For strength has been given to you. 
 
 Accept of the heritage brought you; 
 
 Prove worthy, these gifts I'll bestow 
 At your feet, and you the possessor 
 
 Of honor. Will you try ere I go?" 
 
 I blushed as I thought of the Old Year, 
 Of promises made and not kept. 
 
 I thought of the hours and days wasted; 
 I lowered my head and I wept. 
 
 77 
 
But dear, happy New Year then whispered: 
 "Don't mourn for the failures you've had 
 
 I know that each mortal is human, — 
 That you did not mean to be bad. 
 
 So lift up your head and look forward; 
 
 Just try day by day to do right; 
 The past taught its lessons; forget it. 
 
 Each day of the future is bright." 
 
 I listened to pleadings of New Year; 
 
 How could I deny his request? 
 So bravely I promised. I'm willing 
 
 Each day just to live at my best. 
 
 78 
 
TO 
 
 I love you, dear, a love that asks for naught 
 Save this : to worship you, e'en tho afar ; 
 
 To pray for you and to look up to you 
 
 As an earth-bound soul looks to a heaven-lit star. 
 
 I know I have your friendship and your faith ; 
 
 I know that there are times — tho they be few- 
 Amidst your busy, noble life career. 
 
 You think of me, dear, as I think of you. 
 
 You are so good, so tender, patient, kind, 
 
 That, when alone, I sit and think of you, 
 
 And teardrops fill my eyes ; — tho not in grief — 
 
 How could I grieve with such a friend that's true? 
 
 E'en this were bliss, — to know that I have said 
 'T love you, dear," and that you chided not 
 
 My words, the truth of which you knew long ere 
 My lips had dared to speak or voice the thought. 
 
 I love you dear. Canst know how much, how true ? 
 
 In secret oft my heart for you does yearn. 
 I try to stifle all the longing, dear, 
 
 And ask, or hope for nothing in return. 
 
 79 
 
And yet I hope, as ages pass away, 
 
 And earth bonds break and fade, we'll hear and know 
 The cry of each, and I may find you, dear. 
 
 And finding, keep. For Oh, I love you so. 
 
 TO ARTHUR KELLOGG, THE BLIND 
 PROFESSOR OF MUSIC 
 
 There is no height to which thou canst not climb, 
 
 E'en though thou treadest through a darkened way. 
 
 Just work and trust. Have faith in God and self. 
 The goal must come some sweet and dawning day. 
 
 Remember this : More patience must be thine 
 Than beats in hearts of worldly seeing man; 
 
 And yet more glory will be thine, dear friend. 
 If thou'lt be patient and e'er say 'T can." 
 
 In knowing thou hast worked where others grieved, 
 In feeling thou hast bravely borne thy grief, 
 
 And all the greater effort thou must make. 
 
 Will make the greater joy when comes relief. 
 
 So bravely work, nor falter not, my friend; 
 
 Oh faint not on life's long and darkened way. 
 No failure comes to him whose heart is brave. 
 
 Look up and trust. Love's light will come some day. 
 
 80 
 
EVENING PRAYER FOR TRUTH 
 SEEKERS' CLUB 
 
 We would come, Oh, Lord of Love, 
 
 That we might commune with Thee, 
 
 And we ask — just for tonight — 
 That our spirits shall be free 
 
 From life's turmoil and its woe, 
 
 From its sorrows and its cares; 
 
 For we seek more love and peace. 
 More of patience, more of prayer. 
 
 We would see Thee, God of Love, 
 
 Glorified in man once more, 
 Not in man, in one alone, 
 
 But in all, and all adore. 
 
 Help us consecrate ourselves 
 
 That our eyes may see no ill ; 
 Or, if seeing, we may know 
 
 Back of seeming, good is still. 
 
 Help us shut our ears to thoughts 
 
 That might crush some human soul 
 
 In its upward soaring flight 
 To a perfect final goal. 
 8i 
 
To all thoughts impure and low, 
 And to harsh words we may hear, 
 
 Help us answer not in kind; 
 
 Help us turn a deafened ear. 
 
 Guide our tongues, Oh Lord of Love; 
 
 Teach us what and how to say 
 Thoughts to lighten others' woe. 
 
 And make bright some darkened way. 
 
 Help us gain, while meeting here. 
 Strength to do each daily task. 
 
 Not a life of pleasure, ease. 
 
 Do we come, dear Lord, to ask. 
 
 As Thou wilt, so would we do. 
 
 Not one duty shall we slight. 
 Keep us loving, brave and true. 
 
 Guide and bless each one tonight. 
 
 82 
 
PREPARED FOR WAR 
 
 Each day our army, navy calls 
 
 Our sons from home, our sweethearts, too, 
 Lest conflict comes and finds us weak; 
 
 "Prepared for war." Ah, yes; 'tis true. 
 
 Our homes made weak, our dollars spent, 
 That we may be prepared to kill; 
 
 Each nation seeks to rival each 
 
 In battleships with hearty will. 
 
 Oh what a good world this might be 
 If every nation spent as much 
 
 Of time and money to have peace; 
 
 Each bound to each by love's sweet touch. 
 
 It always has been, always may. 
 
 That what we give comes back again ; 
 
 We're crowned, but for a day by force; 
 
 When crushed we moan our loss and pain. 
 
 "The Moslems" — once a word for fear, 
 As Turkey, Spain, they overswept; 
 
 But where today that race of strength? 
 A conquered people and unwept. 
 83 
 
"All roads lead into Rome," 'twas said; 
 
 She ruled the world with mighty pride; 
 But where today those Romans great? 
 
 Oh Rome has fallen. Her power has died. 
 
 Napoleon won his fame by force; 
 
 Napoleon, once a nation's pride — 
 By force was conquered, and the rights 
 
 Of home and native land denied. 
 
 Old England thought to crush us once. 
 
 But with the sword we proved our might, 
 
 And o'er this land our flag still waves 
 
 Proclaiming that our cause was right. 
 
 And so today we reign supreme; 
 
 Tomorrow — who, alas ! can say ? 
 We hear faint rumors that Japan 
 
 Is watching and may come our way. 
 
 But this I know: if war should come 
 
 We'll prove our strength, or fighting, fall. 
 
 God grant sometime the day will come 
 We'll have no need for war at all, 
 
 And every nation have no foe, 
 
 But brothers every man shall be. 
 
 God give us peace, a worldwide peace, 
 From fear of war we'll then be free. 
 
 84 
 
LIFE'S MUSIC 
 
 In life's fair fitful morn, we first 
 
 Sing joyous strains, in tones most sweet; 
 No minor melody is ours. 
 
 But joy and love and hope we greet. 
 
 Our nimble fingers play with ease 
 
 Each note. Each chord, a hope new born, 
 Rings loud and clear beneath our touch. 
 
 In life's fair, hopeful, happy morn. 
 
 A parent's love attunes our hearts. 
 
 And turns not sorrow's sadder page. 
 
 The dirges come in later life. 
 
 The postlude comes, but comes with age. 
 
 In anxious haste we turn the page 
 To newer notes, yet knowing not 
 
 That, at the end, we fain would choose 
 
 The first bright strains that we were taught. 
 
 Our life seems one long dream of love; 
 
 The music's page, a sweet refrain, 
 O'er which we linger lovingly. 
 
 And beg to play that part again. 
 
 85 
 
A master's hand slow turns the page, 
 
 And lo! the time and key have turned 
 
 To minor, with its low, sad chords. 
 
 The grief of life our soul has learned. 
 
 We play the part adagio, 
 
 While on our hand the teardrops fall, 
 And youth and hope and love seem gone,- 
 
 We sadly ask: where are they all. 
 
 We pause to see if hands more skilled 
 Will take our place that we might rest, 
 
 Or search for strains of joyous vein; 
 But fate refuses our request. 
 
 A master's kindly voice says : *'No, 
 No hero he who falters now; 
 
 No artist he who fails the test; 
 
 No laurel decks the coward's brow. 
 
 Each one must play what he began." 
 And so we take our work again; 
 
 Mid blinding tears we see the notes 
 
 And play the end of life's sad strain. 
 
 And when the tones triumphant end. 
 And life's concerto is all done. 
 
 And on our brow the laurel wreath 
 That we have gladly, nobly won, 
 
 The master takes our weary hands 
 In his own kindly, gentle grasp, 
 
 And gladly, proudly, says: "Well done. 
 Dear heart, well done has been thy task. 
 86 
 
Thou knowest what I knew so well: — 
 That minor must be played by all, 
 
 Ere we can know what major means. 
 
 For saddened strains must come to all. 
 
 In life's concerto all must learn 
 The two most fitly, wisely blend ; 
 
 And he who plays both parts with care, 
 
 Is glad for both when comes the end.' 
 
 87 
 
TIME AND SPACE 
 
 Space is only of man's making, 
 Earth an atom of the whole; 
 
 Life herein is but a moment; 
 
 So-called death is not the goal. 
 
 Man made terms delay no progress 
 Tho their truth we may avow. 
 
 Time and space are only seeming; 
 We express ourselves in now, 
 
 For today is ours; tomorrow 
 
 Where or what, we cannot tell, 
 
 And the past beyond recalling; 
 Let us live the present well. 
 
 Let us do each day the duties 
 
 That will make for honest truth; 
 
 Grieve no past; nor fear no future; 
 Live today life's happy youth. 
 
 Keep our conscience free from grieving 
 Over good we have not done. 
 
 Tho we strive with sin's temptations, 
 Let's rejoice o'er victories won. 
 
HOW LONG IS DAY 
 
 The day is long and dark and drear 
 When love has died without one tear; 
 When hearts thrill not when cheeks are kissed, 
 When longing lips their ksss have missed. 
 
 The day is long when all in vain 
 Love waits a step that ne'er comes again. 
 When hearts must ache and eyes must weep 
 And o'er a bier their vigil keep. 
 
 Aye, long the day when forms are bent 
 By toil and grief the world has sent, 
 And when no aid man gives to man, 
 And self for self does all it can. 
 
 But short the day, and joy it gives 
 When hope exists and true love lives; 
 When each lone heart has found its mate 
 And love's reward is not "too late." 
 
 Aye short the day when hearts are filled 
 With human brotherhood, and thrilled 
 By pressure of one grateful hand 
 That otherwise would lonely stand. 
 
 89 
 
No day is long, tho eyes do weep 
 
 And o'er death's coffin vigil keep, 
 
 If we but knew that it is best 
 
 Our dear ones leave earth's trials to rest 
 
 Within another sphere where we. 
 Perchance, may touch them not or see, 
 Till our earth mission is complete, 
 When we again our loved will meet. 
 
 A loveless life— a dreary way; 
 A love-kissed life brings joy each day. 
 Aye, long the day if hope is dead. 
 But short, when hope by love is fed. 
 
 90 
 
MAKE HEAVEN EACH DAY 
 
 Joyfully, cheerfully, work your way 'long. 
 Making companions more bright by your song, 
 Fleeing from sadness and gloom all the while, 
 Meeting alike friend and foe with a smile. 
 
 See how the sun shines o'er valley and hill; 
 E'en tho the rain pours, the sun's shining still; 
 List to the birds as they carol their lay. 
 Life can be gladsome. To grief just say nay. 
 
 See how the buds wave their bright fragrant heads; 
 Catch the white flakes that the apple tree sheds; 
 Drink in the perfume of lily and rose; 
 Kneel to the pansy that modestly grows. 
 
 Yes, this old world is one sweet, joyous song; 
 Join its refrain as you journey along. 
 Love has been kind to you; share with your friends; 
 Nothing you have is yours, — God only lends. 
 
 Blessings are multiplied when they are shared; 
 Bright, happy hearts to the world should be bared. 
 Smile 'long life's pathway, and smiles will come back. 
 Give pleasant words, and no kindness you'll lack. 
 
 91 
 
Happy, contented, with all that fate gives; 
 Cheerful and kind to each creature that lives. 
 Shun all that's sad, or dispel it by cheer; 
 Always give sunshine; help banish all fear. 
 
 Thankfully, cheerfully, work your way 'long; 
 Make all the world bright by kindness and song; 
 Don't preach a heaven that's far, far away. — 
 Make it right here on earth. Make it each day. 
 
 92 
 
BEGGARS AT THE GATE OF GOLD 
 
 At the golden gate the beggars sit; 
 
 Yet they were men once noble, true, 
 With hearts unscathed by misers' greed, 
 
 When life was young, and love was true. 
 
 Life's pathway seemed so long to them, 
 And wealth a treasure hard to get ; 
 
 And as the days passed slowly by. 
 
 Greed wove around their hearts a net. 
 
 And for a time they tried to free 
 
 Their captive hearts, but all in vain; 
 
 For ere they broke the fetters loose. 
 
 Like Lot, they turned to look again. 
 
 And looked and longed, as all men do 
 
 Who taste the first red cup of wine; 
 
 They reached and finding what they sought, 
 Rejoiced a fortune they thought fine. 
 
 Then not content with what they had, 
 Began to reach and grasp again. 
 
 And failed to see their greed destroyed 
 
 Their better selves; for Love, now slain, 
 
 93 
 
Was never known to move their hearts 
 With pity toward their fellow-men 
 
 As it had done in days gone by. 
 
 Love crushed by greed dies hard. So when, 
 
 As time passed by and years had gone, 
 Their weary forms were laid to rest, 
 
 And they were placed in caskets fine, 
 
 (Their bodies clothed in suits the best) 
 
 Their souls passed on to heaven's gate; 
 
 St. Peter would not let them in. 
 But bade them take earth forms again 
 
 And first atone for all their sin. 
 
 He sent them to the gate of gold, 
 
 Where they must beg their alms each day; 
 And, till their hearts are true and pure 
 
 And freed from greed, there they must stay. 
 
 94 
 
TO MR. AND MRS. F. 
 
 In long years ago, aye, 'tis fifty now, 
 
 When life seemed but one gladsome truth, 
 
 And both your hearts beat fast with joy, 
 In the golden glow of happy youth, 
 
 Were your lives united in one sweet bond. 
 
 You had no gloom nor ghastly fear 
 Lest plighted faith might sadly stray 
 
 And leave one heart alone and drear. 
 
 And though both have tasted of sorrow's cup, 
 Your hearts ne'er yielded to despair; 
 
 And though your golden locks are gray. 
 Still to your eyes the world is fair. 
 
 You are still united in love and life; 
 
 Your youth-born hope has proven true; 
 And love is sweet and home is dear. 
 
 Today that vow you breathe anew. 
 
 And today we give you three hearty cheers; 
 
 For in this age, though vows are made, 
 They're sadly kept, or, not at all; 
 
 For husbands, wives, have wrongly strayed. 
 
 95 
 
But these fifty years of your union prove 
 That love is true and can endure 
 
 All trials, if each will truly try 
 
 And if each heart is brave and pure. 
 
 And today you sit in life's eventide, 
 
 And all its lessons have been learned; 
 
 And all its trials have been well met, 
 And you a rich reward have earned. 
 
 Though the graying gloom of your life seems near, 
 
 We wish its ending far away. 
 May health, and joy, and peace be yours 
 
 We all would wish for you today. 
 
 96 
 
LIVE YOUR SERMONS 
 
 Oh there are folks we see each day 
 Who have a creed, or so they say, 
 
 That just would fit our special need, — 
 Altho it seems they do not heed 
 
 (Except one day) the creed they preach 
 And to their friends so freely teach. 
 
 Now what care I for cult or creed 
 
 That does not help each daily need ; 
 
 That does not make life seem more sweet 
 If not for me — for those I meet; 
 
 That does not teach the good in all 
 The joys and sorrows that befall 
 
 Each heart as lone it treads its path 
 From earth on to Love's aftermath. 
 
 Now when their creed does not teach this 
 I'm sure I'd very gladly miss 
 
 Their sermons and their texts so long, 
 
 Altho, perchance, they're not all wrong, 
 
 (For every sermon has some good 
 
 That we should seek, I'm sure we could.) 
 
 97 
 
But when they prove their texts by deeds, 
 And try to heal all human needs, 
 
 And not take all their time to preach, 
 I'll gladly list to what they teach. 
 
 Oh don't be always preaching, friends, 
 
 But live the creed you preach. It lends 
 
 To creeds a better, stronger play, 
 
 And proves the worth of what you say. 
 
THE HIGHWAY OF LIFE 
 
 The highways and byways are blooming and bright; 
 
 Earth's roses are blowing o'er dale and o'er dell ; 
 Their perfumes are carried on wings of the wind; 
 
 Each blossom is opening, each budlet will swell. 
 
 But soon comes the season when earth will be brown; 
 
 Each flower will fade, and each petal will fall; 
 For God made no season to last the year round. 
 
 And each hath its glory and beauty for all. 
 
 The highways of life can be blooming and bright 
 If we will but nourish love's roses so sweet; 
 
 If we will but scatter kind words and sweet smiles, 
 Thus brightening the pathway for many tired feet. 
 
 Alas ! On some highways are trampled and torn 
 
 The blossoms that might have been blooming so fair 
 
 Had selfishness, envy, deceit, and distrust 
 
 Been thwarted, not nourished and given most care, 
 
 Thus crowding and crushing out tenderer plants 
 
 Whose seeds God hath sown in each young childish 
 heart. 
 E'en weeds hath their blossoms and beauty therein, 
 If we will but seek for the beauty apart. 
 99 
 
And no life so saddened but still hath some joy 
 
 If we will but shut from our minds all the grief, 
 
 And share with the world the few blessings we have; 
 Those blessings will grow, and thy heart give relief. 
 
 Then seek for the sunshine, that blossoms may bloom 
 And brighten thy pathway that others might see, 
 
 And seeing, do likewise. Were each pathway dark, 
 A dreary and desolate world this would be. 
 
 We make of this life what we wish, you and I; 
 
 It rests with each one to make his pathway bright. 
 To give of his gloom, or to share of his joy. 
 
 And each full of sunshine, the whole will be right. 
 
 Breathe blessings of brightness. Give no room to grief. 
 
 Leave self to thy Maker. Make others thy care. 
 Make not of life's pathway a barren waste brown. 
 
 But give of love's roses, rich, radiant, and rare. 
 
 100 
 
GRIEVE NOT 
 
 Why need you stand and moan for hours misspent 
 And waste the present in a vain regret? 
 
 No tears e'er blotted out one deed of shame 
 That on the pages of the past was set. 
 
 A coward he who moans and grieves a past; 
 
 No hero he who sheds a useless tear; 
 A child would whine and grieve a plaything gone,— 
 
 A man would greet the present without fear. 
 
 If you your past misdeeds can see, and know 
 
 Wherein you erred, tho at the time so blind. 
 
 This wisdom is the lesson of your sins 
 
 To heed, but not with grieving blur your mind. 
 
 The duties of today alone are yours; 
 
 Don't dim its sunshine by a cloud that's set ; 
 The dead past has been buried; let it rest; 
 
 Retain its lessons, but all else forget. 
 
 The battlefield of now is facing you, 
 
 And you should falter not, but bravely fight. 
 
 But meet no tempter with a tearful eye ; 
 
 Just forward march for conscience and the right. 
 
 lOI 
 
AT NIGHT 
 
 I never really care to pray 
 
 Like you — unto a power on high, 
 
 Save, as each night, my baby lays 
 Asleep in bed, and I sit nigh. 
 
 And then I think of all the things 
 
 That through the day she's said and done 
 
 Of little griefs, so very few. 
 
 And all her merry tricks for fun; 
 
 Of kisses given on my neck 
 
 And on my lips and cheeks and brow, 
 Or, if I'm busy, kisses blown 
 
 To me, by lips so silent now. 
 
 And then I wonder if the years 
 
 Will dim that sweet impulsive glee. 
 
 Or give to me one kiss the less, — 
 Those kisses all so dear to me. 
 
 I wonder if those gray-blue eyes, 
 
 Like me will weep such bitter tears; 
 
 Or will life's sorrow crush her soul. 
 
 Or fill her heart with darkened fears. 
 
 102 
 
I would not ask no grief be hers ; 
 
 Too well I know each heart is tried 
 By sorrows' tears to bring the best; 
 
 By grief I'd have her not denied, 
 
 Tho gladly I would suffer all 
 
 Could that make her both brave and true. 
 But this is not the law of life; 
 
 Each heroine has work to do. 
 
 But Oh, I pray that Power divine 
 
 To make her strong when comes the test; 
 
 And may she never once become 
 A narrow, bitter pessimist. 
 
 Oh, may those slumbering eyes ne'er see 
 
 (No matter how much they must weep) 
 
 Aught else than good in all that is; 
 
 Her faith in good I pray she'd keep. 
 
 Oh, Power Divine, help me to teach 
 Her what is truth, and what is right; 
 
 And may a mother's effort thus 
 E'er be to her a guiding light. 
 
 103 
 
THE NEED OF THE WORLD 
 
 Oh give us men, — not sluggish men 
 
 Who breathe and move each day, 
 And tread the path their fathers trod, 
 
 Nor seek a better way. 
 Who never sin, as we call "sin," 
 
 Yet never upward soar. 
 But tread with aimless, listless feet 
 
 The same path o'er and o'er. 
 
 The world needs men of brain and brawn, 
 
 Who, aiming high, may sink, 
 Yet dauntless, daring, rise again; 
 
 Who have great minds to think. 
 And thinking, lead the world above 
 
 To heights unseen, unknown, 
 And undiscovered, save for these 
 
 Great hearts thus proved and shown. 
 
 Oh give us men who know the needs 
 
 Of hearts crushed with despair 
 And cannot go, but sink beneath 
 
 The burdens they must bear. 
 Aye, give us men, the manly men. 
 
 The world needs leaders strong 
 To guide, uplift, encourage. 
 
 And help the truth along. 
 
 104 
 
TO MR. AND MRS. H. 
 
 Oct. 1. 
 
 Fifty years of life together, 
 
 Years of bright and stormy weather; 
 
 Yet today you gladly stand 
 
 Side by side and hand in hand. 
 
 Both together bore your crosses, 
 Grieved together o'er your losses, 
 Shared the joys that came your way, 
 Hand in hand through life to stay. 
 
 Tho you passed through stormy weather 
 Yet 'twas brief; for both together 
 Faced the doubt, and grief, and fear; 
 And the storms made each more dear. 
 
 With your friends you shared your gladness, 
 Cheered the sick, relieved their sadness ; 
 Thus your fifty years have passed 
 Tho it seems they've gone so fast. 
 
 Aye, perchance your lives are fading, 
 Yet the future has no shading; 
 In your hearts hold not a fear 
 For love binds you ever near. 
 105 
 
Even tho' the years are flitting, 
 Closer still your hearts are knitting, 
 And the web of life you've spun 
 Will be worthy when 'tis done. 
 
 And your love makes our hearts lighter, 
 And your lives this old world brighter. 
 Fifty cheers we give for you, — 
 Friends so noble, brave and true. 
 
 io6 
 
THE WOMEN OF THE FUTURE 
 
 We talk of saints and sinners vile, 
 And say "'tis just their way;" 
 
 But what the woman of tomorrow is 
 Depends on us today. 
 
 If we are false and fickle both, 
 Made up of shams and paint, 
 
 I'm sure the woman of tomorrow will 
 Not be a perfect saint. 
 
 Deceit ne'er made one beautiful. 
 
 Nor falsehood made one pure; 
 
 And if the women of today are false 
 Our girls will be, I'm sure. 
 
 If we are thoughtful, tender, wise, 
 
 Sincere in all we do, 
 I'm sure our daughters of the future years 
 
 Will earnest be and true. 
 
 If we live lives of virtue, friends. 
 And search for knowledge true. 
 
 The things we seek, and love to study most 
 Our girls will study, too. 
 107 
 
And they, our growing daughters dear, 
 
 Must build the future race ; 
 And if it totters on a throne that's weak, 
 
 Back to our door they'll trace 
 
 And find foundations false, that we 
 
 So thoughtlessly had laid. 
 Then let us rouse our listless selves to work. 
 
 Lest failure we have made, 
 
 And they, our darlings, suffer much 
 
 For this — our careless sin. 
 Let us be thoughtful, earnest, ever true. 
 
 Today let us begin. 
 
 The women of the future years 
 Will be what we have made. 
 
 God grant that all our lessons may be wise, 
 And strongly, truly laid. 
 
 io8 
 
ALL ONE 
 
 There is no this Hfe and another 
 For all is one — one up and on. 
 
 Yes, onward to the great perfection 
 
 Whene'er our fleeting breath is gone. 
 
 There is no death, 'tis but transition. 
 
 The plant is but developed seed. 
 There is no line of demarcation, — 
 
 The seed is germ, the fruit is feed. 
 
 The snowflake falls on earth's warm bosom 
 And on its warm heart melts away, 
 
 Or rather changes in appearance, — 
 In substance just the same alway. 
 
 The oak is but a tiny acorn 
 
 Developed by the rain and sun. 
 
 Through days and weeks and many seasons, — 
 Just larger grown, and yet all one. 
 
 The spirit is the same forever, 
 Altho it from the mortal strays. 
 
 The flesh and blood belong to earth life 
 But not to other mystic ways, 
 109 
 
And so like acorn, seed, and snowflake, 
 It casts aside its outward cloak, 
 
 And just goes on its way rejoicing, 
 As from the. acorn goes the oak. 
 
 There is no this life and another. 
 
 For 'tis all one — all one — the same: 
 
 And what to you makes it seem dual 
 Is just the changing of its name. 
 
 no 
 
BOTH BEST 
 
 I would not wish the shadows gone, 
 
 Altho I grope in dark; 
 For I have learned, through bitter tears 
 And long and dark foreboding fears 
 
 That they are best. 
 
 I would not wish my sorrows gone 
 
 From out my saddened past. 
 For through that grief I've found my strength. 
 And tho I fought it long, at length 
 
 I learned 'twas best. 
 
 I would not wish my life all joy, 
 
 All sunshine, and all peace; 
 For it would clog and tire the brain. 
 And then, methinks, I'd wish for rain; 
 
 For both are best. 
 
 We have not learned the test of life 
 
 Until we learn all's good; 
 Until we know that joy is sweet, 
 But without tears is not complete; 
 
 For both are best. 
 
 Ill 
 
COULD I GO BACK 
 
 Could I go back again, sweetheart, 
 
 And live the long ago 
 When we both promised to be true, 
 
 (For then I loved you so,) 
 
 Back to the day you kissed my brow 
 
 In love's sweet yesterday, 
 I wonder if your touch would thrill 
 
 Me in the same old way. 
 
 Could we go back again, sweetheart. 
 And think the same old thought. 
 
 Without one fear of all the grief 
 That time to both has brought, 
 
 Would going back thus bring us joy? 
 
 Sometimes I think it might. 
 And someway, thoughts of those dead days 
 
 Bring teardrops as I write. 
 
 Not that I grieve our broken tryst, 
 For, dear, it could not be; 
 
 My life is best away from you 
 And yours apart from me. 
 
 112 
 
But mem'ry of the childhood love 
 And hope, can never die. 
 
 I would not blot it from my heart; 
 You could not, tho you try. 
 
 I mourn not for the love once ours; 
 
 But for each hope that's slain 
 I shed a tear; for this I know. 
 
 It cannot come again. 
 
 113 
 
LIFE 
 
 Life is not a dreary desert, 
 
 Not a bleak and barren waste, 
 But a forest green and growing 
 To the one who goes through knowing. 
 Seeking, what it is we taste. 
 
 If we keep our eyes cast downward 
 
 We can see the thorns and weeds; 
 We can feel each briar and bramble, 
 At each scratch can moan and tremble 
 Like a thief caught at his deeds. 
 
 But if we'll seek a pathway 
 
 That leads out through verdant bowers, 
 Where the lofty trees are swaying. 
 And the winds 'midst branches playing 
 
 We can find a path of flowers. 
 
 Turn thee henceward; see hope gleaming. 
 
 Pause not once to grieve or wait. 
 Let ambition guide thee onward, 
 Not temptation drag thee downward, 
 
 Though sin shows, a gilded gate. 
 114 
 
Life has pathways that are pleasant ; 
 
 Look beyond thee and around. 
 Let no secret sin nor sorrow 
 Find thee on its track tomorrow. 
 
 Seek the paths where joys abound, 
 
 Yet where virtue holds its kingdom, 
 
 (The path that leads to heaven above) 
 Come not weeping; best come singing 
 And but hope and good thoughts bringing; 
 Then thou'lt find the path of love. 
 
 115 
 
OUR BOYS OF '61 
 
 No camp fire dots the valley, 
 
 The Shenandoah valley wide; 
 
 No sentries guard the sleeping camps 
 Or list to soldiers' stride. 
 
 The war fields now are vacant; 
 
 The fire and drum are still 
 That led our marching heroes on 
 
 To fight with right good will. 
 
 The battle guns are silent; 
 
 Our heroes stood their test. 
 The men who answered Lincoln's call 
 
 Are marching now to rest. 
 
 Yes, some are silent sleeping; 
 
 For in the ranks are gaps 
 That time has made, as our brave men 
 
 Respond to sound of taps. 
 
 And o'er their beds are flowers, — 
 The choicest blooms we give 
 
 To them — our men who bravely died 
 That we as one might live. 
 ii6 
 
Aye, let the world sing proudly 
 
 Its paean for our brave 
 Who fought for freedom's cause and won, 
 
 E'en tho their lives they gave. 
 
 Aye, let us swell the chorus 
 Of praise, and loud hurrahs 
 
 For our brave men who suffered much 
 And fought for such a cause. 
 
 117 
 
MY CREED 
 
 Where worship I? What cult believe? 
 
 My creed, dear brother, do you ask? 
 To answer this needs but a line 
 
 And 'tis, I'm sure, an easy task. 
 
 No man-named church or creed have I ; 
 
 I only worship love divine, 
 And love all men as I'd be loved. 
 
 This all the creed that I call mine. 
 
 What need I, friend, for more than this? 
 
 Thus living, I could wrong no single life 
 While knowing we are brothers all, — 
 
 One God, one aim, one hope, one life. 
 
 So no four walls alone can claim 
 This creed I try to live as mine. 
 
 No single book alone can prove 
 
 Its right to claim this law divine. 
 
 Our Christ Himself said what was old, 
 
 And Buddha spoke the same old thought: 
 
 "Do not to men thou wouldst not have — " 
 Its origin — I care it not. 
 ii8 
 
But this I know : when rightly lived, 
 The golden rule is all we need; 
 
 And tho no church do I condemn, 
 I seek no saner, better creed. 
 
 HOPV DOES LOVE SPEAK? 
 
 How does love speak? 
 
 Perchance you'd say by blushing cheeks, 
 
 And manner coy, averted eye. 
 
 And bounding pulse that throbs and beats 
 
 With ardor strange when "he" comes nigh? 
 
 In tender pressure of the lips. 
 
 In new-born gentleness of voice. 
 
 And ling'ring touches hand in hand,-^ 
 
 A love that makes the heart rejoice. 
 
 How does love speak? 
 It speaks most loud in kindly acts 
 To all mankind, and loving deeds ; 
 Because of this great love new born 
 All cries for help it gladly heeds, 
 And shares with all its bounteous store 
 Of love and thoughtful tenderness. 
 Aye, blushes tell that love is born, 
 But love speaks best in acts that bless. 
 
 119 
 
TO PAULINE 
 
 Little dimpled, brown-eyed Pauline, 
 Summers two sit on thy brow ; 
 
 Mirth unmingled with a sorrow 
 Is allotted to thee now. 
 
 Not one shadow in thy sunshine. 
 Save, perhaps, a tear or two 
 
 Just to make thy smiles the sweeter, 
 Just a drop of childhood dew. 
 
 Darling little happy Pauline, 
 
 Life and love hath made thee blest 
 
 In thy gladsome days of childhood. 
 May the years bring what is best. 
 
 Not all joy would we wish for thee, 
 For each hero must endure, 
 
 And a heroine we'd have thee, — 
 Noble, sweet, and ever pure. 
 
 Little brown-eyed baby Pauline, 
 
 Two years crown thy life today. 
 
 May love guide and guard and bless thee 
 All the years of life's long way. 
 
 120 
 
THE MAN IN THE MANSION 
 
 If the man of great poverty hath naught to share, 
 If with cold he is shaking, his hands numb and bare, 
 If he thinks of life's pleasures for him there are none 
 From the dawn of the day to the setting of sun, 
 When he thinks of these things, (he will grieve as he 
 
 thinks), 
 Then his courage oft fails him, his spirit oft sinks. 
 
 But remember, 
 If the man in the hovel hath trials to bear. 
 So hath the man in the mansion. 
 
 If the hut of the poor man is dingy and dim. 
 
 Yet hath love that will lighten life's pathway for him. 
 
 No need he to care for the palaces great, 
 
 Where fountains are sparkling and carriages wait, 
 
 Where breezes are sweet with the perfume of blooms, 
 
 Yet love lingers not in those richly decked rooms. 
 
 For remember. 
 If the man in the hovel hath love in his home 
 Perchance there is none in the mansion. 
 
 After all what is wealth? If the heart hath its grief 
 And is sordid and narrow, can the wealth give relief? 
 When the sunshine falls only on carpets so rare. 
 When the life is all darkened by sorrow and care, 
 
 121 
 
The rich man may live in a great splendid hell, 
 And bear all its tortures; he, only, could tell. 
 
 But remember, 
 That if true love will lighten the load for the poor, 
 'Twill also for him in the mansion. 
 
 Envy not. Though in hovel or in hut thou art placed, 
 Let the sweat of toil honest stand out on thy brow; 
 Let thy heart beat with willingness. Grasp every chance. 
 When thou seest without envy the rich in thy glance 
 Thou wilt know that their cup holds its bitterness, too, 
 And that fate hath not dealt so unjustly with you. 
 
 And remember. 
 That the man in the hovel hath trials to bear. 
 And so hath the man in the mansion. 
 
 122 
 
SACRIFICE 
 
 Is that a sacrifice 
 
 By which wc yield some cherished joy today 
 And gain some greater power by which we live 
 
 And living right, cast all that's false away? 
 
 Today we say "a sacrifice," 
 
 But as tomorrow brings us wisdom, strength, 
 We know it as it is, a stepping stone 
 
 To lead us up and on to peace at length. 
 
 There is no sacrifice. 
 
 When we do aught and name it such 
 'Tis sordid selfishness, unmixed with love ; 
 
 Tis crowding Christ out from our deed too much. 
 
 There is no sacrifice. 
 
 When love prompts deeds both kind and true 
 The heart is filled with joy that we can do 
 
 This thing as Jesus did with love that's true. 
 
 Love knows no sacrifice. 
 
 Hence there is none. For God is love and we, 
 A part of liim and He of us, do naught 
 
 Save as His spirit prompts to do and be. 
 
 123 
 
AN ANSWER 
 
 I live my life as fate elects; 
 My conscience bound; my heart rejects 
 Some laws (by church and custom made) 
 And some environment that's laid 
 
 So near my narrow, briar-decked path. 
 Perchance when comes the aftermath 
 I, wiser grown, will say 'twas good. 
 And would not change it if I could. 
 
 Tho even now I might be "free," 
 Yet it would grieve those dear to me. 
 Yes, no atonement in my creed. 
 From my own sins I will be freed 
 
 When conscience says no more I sin. 
 This victory I alone must win. 
 No Christ was Jesus more than I, 
 A good wise man I'll not deny. 
 
 He came in that old-fashioned way 
 And "died" as we all must some day. 
 'Twas His, 'tis mine, the right to do 
 The best we can life's journey through. 
 124 
 
He stronger, wiser far than I. 
 
 Is my example, and I try 
 
 To live the Golden Rule He taught; 
 
 For better creed, I seek it not. 
 
 LIFE'S MIRACLE 
 
 The making of the mountains, 
 
 A view for artist's hand, 
 Niagara's rushing waters, 
 
 A scene both weird and grand. 
 The rushing trains o'er prairies. 
 
 Boats floating on the sea, 
 The airships in the heavens. 
 
 All miracles may be. 
 But parenthood's the greatest 
 
 Of miracles to me. 
 
 125 
 
A STORY IN RHYME— THE VIOLIN 
 
 At last it has come, it has come, aye, to this, 
 
 That you, the companion of my youth, must be sold, 
 
 For even a woman dreads death by starvation, 
 And lam. a woman, and hungry, and cold, 
 
 Oh long have I lain in this cold, chilly hut. 
 
 The world caring little that I starved or I died; 
 
 Yet I left the world when I sank as a drunkard. 
 When all of God's laws I disdained and defied. 
 
 And yet it was love that first dragged my soul down ; 
 
 And wine cheered my heart in the depths of despair. 
 It made me forgetful that he was still living, 
 
 Aye, made me forget life had been aught save fair. 
 
 And so I would drink till my mem'ry grew dull. 
 Forgetful of all that I had loved, save you; 
 
 No sorrow has severed us, naught came between us, 
 
 Oh friend of my childhood, whose heart sings so true. 
 
 When he, my false lover came back to my room 
 
 Once more, just to look on the thing he had made, 
 
 My heart boiled within me; I knew he was married. 
 I took my one weapon from the stand where it laid 
 126 
 
And shot him ere conscience could stop me, or stay; 
 
 He fell at my feet, a poor, warm breathless heap, 
 I paused to get-you, then I fled to this city, 
 
 And here in this rat-ridden hole I must keep, 
 
 Lest officers finding the carcass I left 
 
 Might seek me and drag me away to their pen; 
 
 For that I would not care if they still left you with me. 
 In jail I'd not freeze, nor would hungry be then. 
 
 The man who has given me the last food I had 
 
 Has offered to buy you for one hundred straight; 
 
 And I ? Dare I sell you ? Oh God, I am hungry ! 
 
 Why waste all these words ? I will go, tho 'tis late. 
 
 My hands are so cold I can scarce shut the lid; 
 
 My old faded shawl will conceal me from view; 
 The night is so dark; it is raining and stormy; 
 
 Wait ! Sing one farewell ere I part now from you. 
 
 Yes, sing the old song that my mother once loved. 
 
 Your tones are as faultless and as true as of old. 
 'Tis I that am faulty and weakened by hunger; 
 
 I shiver. My hands are both shaking with cold. 
 
 Why linger? I'll go. I will get gold to buy food; 
 
 I act like a child o'er this small piece of wood ; 
 I'll open the door and go forth — what is this? 
 
 A paper blown in by the storm; 'tis no good — 
 
 But see ! There's his name, and perchance tells his death 
 "John Simmons' recovery assured" — "no clue to the 
 foe." 
 "The invalid says that he knew not the stranger" — 
 Thank God I've not killed him. And now I can go, 
 127 
 
Go back to the home of my childhood once more ; 
 
 Will start once again in the battle of life. 
 No murderer I. I can seek work that's honest. 
 
 With you to go with me, I'll enter the strife. 
 
 BE A LEADER 
 
 Make your own destiny. Choose your own road. 
 Though it be great, ever bear your own load. 
 Follow the multitude not like a sheep. 
 Be your own master; your own conscience keep. 
 
 Doubt not your power to march forth alone 
 When others falter ; the strength is your own. 
 All he world's heroes have pushed on ahead. 
 Be your own leader. Don't be the led. 
 
 Force not the world to march onward with you; 
 Maybe your pathway for them is not true. 
 Let your light shine. Make your pathway so bright 
 The world will all follow when it sees you are right. 
 
 128 
 
TO MRS. E. H. G. 
 
 This brings a morning greeting — 
 A thought : I love you, dear. 
 
 And may it make your morn more bright 
 And to each day bring cheer. 
 
 From out the vast assemblies 
 
 That listen to your voice 
 And praise your v^^ords so full of truth, 
 
 I'm one to hear, rejoice. 
 
 And though I'm only one, dear, 
 That worships at your shrine. 
 
 To know you think of me as friend 
 Brings joy to heart of mine. 
 
 And so I send this greeting, 
 
 Although I feel you knew, 
 Yet some way I would word it now, 
 
 'Tis this: dear, I love you. 
 
 And as the hours go by, dear, 
 
 I know I'll be more true, 
 More tender, thoughtful, loving, kind, 
 
 Because of meeting you. 
 129 
 
My hours shall be more gladsome; 
 
 Life's skies will be more blue; 
 The goal of truth shall seem more near 
 
 Because — because of you. 
 
 MY WORK 
 
 Let me have conscience and courage to think 
 
 Thoughts that can help and not hinder the race. 
 
 I am but one in this world's mighty throng, 
 Yet in the midst of it all I've a place. 
 
 This is my work: just to fill my niche well. 
 
 Is my brain useless or have I well thought? 
 Are may hands still when there's much to be done ? 
 
 In these few fleeting years, what have I wrought ? 
 
 130 
 
JAMIE 
 
 Jamie, darling, thou hast left me. 
 For no more I see thy face. 
 
 And at times my heart is bitter; 
 
 Teardrops leave their briny trace. 
 
 And yet, darling, thou art with me 
 Every day and every hour. 
 
 Though my eyes cannot detect thee, 
 Having not this greater power. 
 
 But I know the tie that bound us 
 Would not break and let thee go, 
 
 For I loved thee, Jamie, darling, 
 Oh I loved thee, loved thee so. 
 
 And because I loved thee truly 
 I will put all grief away; 
 
 In my heart and home, my darling, 
 Shall no sorrow longer stay. 
 
 I'll not dim thy spirit presence 
 By my useless, vain regret; 
 
 I'll not bind thee with my grieving, 
 And no longer will I fret. 
 
 131 
 
Just because I loved thee, Jamie, 
 And because I know thou'lt know, 
 
 I will shut my heart to sorrow. 
 I am sure you'd have it so. 
 
 Jamie, darling, see — I'm smiling. 
 
 Lay thy spirit face near mine. 
 For no more by silent sorrow 
 
 Will I grieve that soul of thine. 
 
 132 
 
VISION PROPHETIC 
 
 In the evening of the present 
 
 I see a dawn ahead; 
 No weak and starving workmen 
 
 By monied classes led. 
 
 I see no toiling slavery, 
 
 For men at last are free; 
 
 No more are they mere chattels 
 As once they used to be. 
 
 The thrones of kings have fallen. 
 And honest people reign; 
 
 And past "kings" are the brothers 
 Who toil for men — not gain. 
 
 I see a world where labor 
 Can win its just reward; 
 
 And since all men are brothers 
 No men need work too hard. 
 
 There is no hungry beggar 
 
 With empty, outstretched hand; 
 I see not e'en one miser 
 
 With jewels, gold and land. 
 
 133 
 
The wailing cry of childhood 
 
 No longer do I hear, 
 For human love has conquered 
 
 And wiped away the tear. 
 
 No mjore I hear the war drums; 
 
 I see a world at peace; 
 And soldiers from their fetters 
 
 Have gladly found release. 
 
 No sweatshops for the women, 
 
 Or factory hours long; 
 They're at their rightful mission, 
 
 With love and home their song. 
 
 Their homes are all so happy; 
 
 Our women all are there 
 At work as wives and mothers, 
 
 All healthy, happy, fair. 
 
 Perchance, this view prophetic 
 Seems foolish unto you; 
 
 But wait and watch, my brothers. 
 Some day it may come true. 
 
 134 
 
TO , OF ST. LOUIS 
 
 Thy path and mine lies far apart, 
 Though words of mine may cheer thy heart 
 And bring one bright and fitting ray 
 To brighten life's long weary way. 
 
 And yet the path need not seem long 
 If to the world thou'lt sing love's song. 
 Thy sorrows others, too, have borne. 
 The crown of thorns by Christ was worn. 
 
 He lives again in you and me 
 
 If that divine we search to see. 
 
 Then go thy way. Just work and smile. 
 
 God's blessing guard thee all the while. 
 
 A life is made of joys and tears, 
 Of griefs, and hopes, and pain, and fears. 
 May what is best for thee be thine. 
 But this I hope. Oh friend of mine. 
 
 That thou hast quafifed from our grief's cup 
 Thy share, and need not longer sup. 
 But drink love's nectar, rich and rare; 
 God keep thee worthy, is my prayer. 
 
 135 
 
THE DAISY 
 
 I passed along a roadside, 
 All dusty brown and bare ; 
 
 My heart was tired and heavy 
 With many trials and care. 
 
 At last I found a daisy, 
 
 Its snow-white round the gold;— 
 The bloom whose lasting beauty 
 
 By poets has been told. 
 
 And as I watched it waving 
 In summer breezes hot, 
 
 To me it taught a lesson 
 
 As I stood there in thought. 
 
 The soil around was barren — 
 
 The grass seemed dead and dry: 
 
 And save that lonely daisy 
 
 No sight of bloom was nigh. 
 
 And yet that sun-kissed blossom 
 Still waved its gleam of white 
 
 And sent from heart so golden 
 Its share of beauty bright. 
 136 
 
Oh that we might do likewise 
 
 And grow where'er we're placed, 
 
 And shed a light around us 
 E'en though by trials faced. 
 
 137 
 
THE MAN WHO SHIRKS 
 
 I've met with many kinds of folks 
 Along life's journey here; 
 
 The one who growls ; the one who smiles 
 And gives a word of cheer; 
 
 The one who never has had luck 
 
 In anything he works. 
 But of them all I like the least 
 
 The careless man who shirks. 
 
 At home he's late in getting up; 
 
 His wife must build the fires. 
 Must carry water, split the wood, 
 
 And have what he desires. 
 
 In church he likes the sermons fine; 
 
 He's always in his seat; 
 As to the music that is sung, 
 
 He says *tis hard to beat. 
 
 But when the plate is passed around 
 
 By deacons or by clerks. 
 He's praying hard, with eyes tight shut; 
 
 The dues he always shirks. 
 138 
 
And at the lodge, when lunch is served 
 He always wants his share; 
 
 But when the lodge has work to do 
 He's — well — he's never there. 
 
 I wonder when comes judgment day 
 
 And he ascends on high 
 And old St. Peter calls the roll 
 
 Will he be standing nigh? 
 
 I'd say, if I were Peter then, 
 
 "You're known by your past works, 
 
 And there is no admission here. 
 
 For you — the man who shirks." 
 
 139 
 
LOVE 
 
 In the dawning of love's morning 
 
 When life's loneliness has fled, 
 And all grief has gone a gloaming 
 
 To its grave by death is led, 
 Then the heart with joy is beating, 
 
 And life seems one gladsome day. 
 In the dawning of love's morning. 
 
 Oh, that love would come and stay ! 
 
 In the nooning of love's living 
 
 When all hopes have blossomed bright, 
 And the clouds have turned their linings 
 
 And all life seems glad and bright. 
 Then the hand forgets its cunning, 
 
 Thinking love has come to stay. 
 Oh, that it could come and tarry 
 
 And would live and love for aye. 
 
 In the evening of love's dying, 
 
 When its steps have fainter grown, 
 As it tarries in its going 
 
 Ere it leaves the heart so lone, 
 Then all life seems cheerless, hopeless; 
 
 Then the heart moans out its cry ; 
 For love's eventide is passing. 
 
 Cherish it or it will die. 
 140 
 
In the midnight of love's slumber 
 
 It seems buried dark and deep; 
 And the hearts, so faint and weary 
 
 O'er its grave a vigil keep. 
 But when they can still their grieving 
 
 And look up and on afar, 
 They will see in yonder portals 
 
 Of the future love's sweet star 
 
 For the rainbow of its promise 
 
 Ever sits behind the fears, 
 Though they let sweet hope be hidden 
 
 By the flowing of their tears. 
 Every night must have a morning, 
 
 And love's death is not for aye. 
 Sorrow comes. Joy must follow. 
 
 All the night just watch for day 
 
 141 
 
WHEN WAR CALLS MEN TO ARMS 
 
 When war calls men to arms to fight, 
 
 Tis bloody War for sinful greed 
 To test the fighting strength of men, 
 
 And their blood-seeking natures feed. 
 
 And in its wake of wrong and death 
 
 Comes famine for the poor and weak* 
 
 And for the rich, who dared not fight. 
 
 Comes wealth that they so gladly seek. 
 
 They own the food the widows eat ; 
 
 They have the gold the nation needs, 
 And at a price they set themselves. 
 
 They loan and call it generous deeds. 
 
 When love calls men to arms to fight, 
 
 True hearts respond, not one draws back; 
 
 The motive pure appeals to all; 
 
 Love says "brave men no courage lack 
 
 When force alone MUST rule to win." 
 But when 'tis nations fighting each 
 
 And caring not the men they kill, 
 
 And when 'tis gold or gain they reach 
 142 
 
To grasp within their bloody hands, 
 'Tis time, methinks, for heroes brave 
 
 (Who love the right and truth and peace) 
 To say: "I will not fill one grave. 
 
 No wife shall wear a widow's weeds 
 By act of mine. No little child 
 
 Shall through my rush to country's call 
 Shed e'en one tear, or cry out wild 
 
 With grief." Oh let us pause to think: 
 
 If I and all my brother men 
 Heed not the nation's call to arms. 
 
 Refuse to fight its wars, 'tis then 
 
 Some other plan will be devised; 
 
 Our nation great will quickly find 
 No need for war, or else 'twill seek 
 
 Some other method far more kind 
 
 Than calling forth at its sweet will 
 
 Our men to test our fighting strength, 
 
 And causing desolation great. 
 
 And bringing grief and death at length. 
 
 And though you call me rash and wrong, 
 I boldly, firmly take my stand: 
 
 When wicked wars call men to arms 
 I will not fight for any land; 
 
 But when love calls, as Jesus taught. 
 And only when true love has need, 
 
 Will I march forth for God and right. 
 Will I bear arms and war's call heed. 
 143 
 
And though you say all wars are right, 
 I answer not. But this I know: 
 
 When honor needs, I'll heed the cry; 
 When love calls men to arms I'll go. 
 
 144 
 
ALL WE NEED 
 
 Love, my friend, is all we need, 
 Love, Christ-love, is all to heed. 
 It will brighten all the day 
 And make short the world's long way. 
 What thou art will rest with thee, 
 When this truth thy heart can see, 
 God's sweet love will guide thy life, 
 And make thee strong for any strife. 
 Love of self makes narrow hearts, 
 Self from self Christ-love e'er parts. 
 Each for all the creed He taught, 
 Human brotherhood he sought — 
 Love thy brother as thy self. 
 Do no deed for praise or pelf. 
 Lift thy brother's load of grief; 
 Soon thy heart will find relief. 
 Bravely share thy brother's load; 
 Brighter thou wilt find thy road. 
 Love, my friend, is all we need ; 
 Love, Christ-love, is all to heed. 
 
 145 
 
IT'S NOBODY'S BUSINESS 
 
 "It's nobody's business," you say, "but theirs 
 
 How wealth is made by milHonaires ; 
 
 We have no right to view the scene, 
 
 Or ask the law to draw the screen 
 
 Between the men who make the gold 
 
 And those who all the riches hold." 
 
 Ah! though the step between the two 
 
 Is short and seldom held to view. 
 
 Yet crime, and death, and hell are there. 
 
 It is our business and we should care. 
 
 It is our business if men must toil 
 From dawn to dark, till hearts recoil 
 With hate of these — our country's laws 
 So hard, so stern, so full of flaws 
 To crush the men who toil each day 
 And give the monied man his way. 
 It IS our business that greed does hold 
 Our men in bondage just for gold. 
 And though our husband, our son is free, 
 Still 'tis our business. Oh can't you see? 
 
 "It's nobody's business," I hear you say, 
 "If helpless babes are born each day 
 That, ere a year has slow passed by. 
 Must suffer, starve for food, and die. 
 146 
 
It's no one's business save their own 
 If those poor mothers weep and moan, 
 And then at death's grim call they yield 
 Those babes to lie in Potter's field." 
 It's not your business, do you say? 
 May God help you on judgment day. 
 
 The Christ should reign within your heart 
 
 And bid such selfish love depart; 
 
 Then you would see the sorrow, woe, 
 
 That brothers, sisters, daily know, 
 
 And seeing, you would take their hand 
 
 And lead them to a firmer stand 
 
 Where greed could bind no human heart, — 
 
 Where bribes and tyranny depart. 
 
 It IS your business, day and night. 
 
 To give relief and wrong make right. 
 
 It IS YOUR BUSINESS how women slave 
 
 From childhood's dawn till at the grave. 
 
 IT IS YOUR BUSINESS when men need aid. 
 
 Ah! From Christ's fold I fear you've strayed. 
 
 It was His business. 'Tis yours and mine. 
 
 Shall we not heed the call divine? 
 
 "Go feed my sheep" on highways bare. 
 
 Go! "Love thy neighbor" everywhere. 
 
 It IS YOUR BUSINESS, dear friends, AND MINE, 
 
 To do as did the Christ divine. 
 
 147 
 
MAKE YOURSELF KNOWN 
 
 If people seem selfish 
 
 The trouble's your own; 
 
 Demand the world's notice 
 
 And make yourself known. 
 
 In churches go forward, 
 
 Don't take a back seat 
 And wait for the members 
 
 That you'd like to meet. 
 
 Advance in your lodge room 
 To the front like a man; 
 
 Give free of your friendship 
 And do what you can. 
 
 Don't wait to be noticed. 
 
 It isn't worth while 
 For the world to spend hours 
 
 In seeking your smile. 
 
 Go give it your handgrasp; 
 
 Show power and skill; 
 The world will soon greet you 
 
 With joy and good will. 
 148 
 
We need willing workers, 
 Not statues of stone. 
 
 Step up. Show your power, 
 And make yourself known 
 
 149 
 
A HEART CRY 
 
 Alone I sat to weep and watch 
 
 For what I know will never be. 
 
 Hope died since love has ceased to live, 
 And naught save scorn can I give thee 
 
 Where once, with trust, I gave my heart 
 In happy days that soon meant naught. 
 
 Alas ! In thee a comrade kind 
 
 And purely true I vainly sought. 
 
 The shrine on which I placed my love 
 Hath been too weak; or could it be 
 
 My love so great, or so ill-shown 
 
 When still 'twas thine, it wearied thee? 
 
 Another form may please thee now; 
 
 Another face may be more fair 
 Than mine did seem since love hath died; 
 
 Her lips seem sweet as nectar rare; 
 
 Her eyes may shine as stars above; 
 
 Her tempting ways may charm thee now 
 But in thy heart will ever live 
 
 The mem'ry of thy marriage vow. 
 150 
 
The sin that linked her heart with thine 
 
 And made thee break thy vow, thine own, 
 
 Will kill thy seeming love in time; 
 
 Then will she reap what she has sown. 
 
 Then wilt thou miss a wife's true love 
 
 That might have lived "till death do part." 
 
 The wanton's passion and embrace 
 
 Cannot live long within thy heart. 
 
 Then worldly honor or renown, 
 
 With none to share, couldst thou enjoy? 
 Or even tho she bore thy name 
 
 (Who has been but thy wanton toy) 
 
 Would not the mem'ry of a wife 
 
 Who left thee, dim thy birthborn pride. 
 
 And ever stand a specter grim 
 
 Between thee and a sin-bought bride? 
 
 Had honor died not in thy breast. 
 
 Thou couldst not stand and sadly say: 
 
 "I still love thee, I love not her. 
 
 And time will prove thee this some day." 
 
 Oh, knowest thou not the child I gave 
 Will ofttimes turn thy thoughts to me. 
 
 Although ambition's empty glare 
 
 Is dear and much desired by thee? 
 
 Remember this: that through her veins 
 
 Doth course thy blood, and that her heart 
 
 In future years will ask the "Why." 
 
 Then what will take a father's part? 
 
Her life and mine, too strongly bound 
 
 For aught to sever us in twain. 
 Thou shouldst have been the third pure link 
 
 For her sweet sake, if not for mine. 
 
 And when a father's love she asks 
 
 Of me, and where he is, and what, 
 
 Thinkest thou the task an easy one 
 
 To make reply, when truth is sought? 
 
 And tho to her no word I say, 
 
 Less tender tongues will tell the tale 
 
 Of virtue crushed and honor slain. 
 Because of one false wanton pale. 
 
 Canst thou not feel, dost thou not know 
 
 My child and thine will share thy shame? 
 
 E'en though 'twere miles 'tween thee and her ; 
 
 For through time's flight she bears thy name. 
 
 E'en tho thy love for sin was great, 
 Could not her kiss and childish smile 
 
 Forever be thy one safeguard, 
 
 And save thee from the wanton's guile? 
 
 Remember this : tho sinful lust 
 
 Hath rudely torn thee from my heart, 
 
 I still can love thy child and mine, 
 Though we and thou forever part. 
 
 While thou and she, who lured thee on 
 
 With sinful ways, together live, 
 Thy child and I will watch and wait 
 
 What fortune brings and fate shall give. 
 152 
 
And so we leave. No legal tie. 
 
 No words of love, or tears, regret, 
 
 Can hold us longer in thy life. 
 
 Much better 'twere had we not met. 
 
 Seek not to follow. Go thy way. 
 
 Our path and thine no longer one. 
 A baby voice is calling me, 
 
 I drop my pen; my writing's done. 
 
 153 
 
Even tho' the years are flitting, 
 Closer still your hearts are knitting, 
 And the web of life you've spun 
 Will be v^^orthy when 'tis done. 
 
 And your love makes our hearts lighter, 
 And your lives this old world brighter. 
 Fifty cheers we give for you, — 
 Friends so noble, brave and true. 
 
 io6 
 
AUG 5 19^2