P$ 555/ SELECTIONS FROM POEMS by m. SMITH PAYNE Copyrighted Ftbrvary, 1920 GiEo, Sum Paynb m -o \m C1A568109 i ■ XqW "THAT BOY 'JWhen friendship brings its hand in yonth And finds a boy that tells the truth, ^You'll love that boy where e'er he be iln far oft" lands or on the sea. jl found that boy some years ago, Whose lips were clean as whitened snow. I loved him then. I love him now. Intelligence was on his brow. Often he'd come and talk with me. He would say, "Many good things I've learned of thee.' And — now he's grown to be, the biggest man, And a good man, he's been to me. He's kind and his face inspiring too, Because he's happy he brings it to you. Oh ! well. No matter how big a man, or his job may be He'll always be just "That Boy" to me. THE WHIPPOORWTLL AND THRUSH The whippoorwill with its sweet song Kept singing notes of joy along. Also the thrush, that sweet little bird, Her song as sweet as ever heard. OLD While we are old, yet we are young In thoughts of visions ever sprung That keep our pathway like the spring We feel as joyous as a King. LORD KEEP ME O Prince of Peace ! be thou my guide, Bring me near thy bleeding side, And let me of thy goodness know, That I shall be as white as snow. And when thy reign on earth shall be Established over land and sea, Then will they come from east and west, And north and south, redeemed and blest. Of thy goodness I could not tell, 'Till I was changed by that great spell That bound me. to my Lord and King, The Prince of Peace, of wdiom I sing. O Jesus, Lord, I love thee still ; May I be subject to thy will, O bless and keep me while I live. Let me to thee best offerings give. And Lord when I my work have done, Fulfilled the task that Pve begun ; Then ready may I be for thee, And glorious in eternity. THE MOON The moon goes swinging round the earth While we are sitting by the hearth. She rises higher as she goes. Uplifted from the beating snows. She's ever on her new return And her bright face looks like an urn. She's welcomed, at the northern shore To crisp the snow at Lapland's door. MY VILLACxE HOME The village inn below the hill, That stood above the watery rill, Where learned thought did each day dwell, There knovvdedge flowed from every dell, Each living day the flowers of tho't did come To strike the tune of lyric drum They beat it well from shore to shore. And still they cried for music more. Shakespeare, too, in their speech did run, And Milton stood as one true son. And Virgil's verse was well begun Before the time of setting sun. When new^ morn came with glowing beam, And touched the hillside to the stream, These eager veterans spread the call ; Stood by the contest, great and small ; They talked of learned men in the land. And buried all vice deep in the sand, Exchanged their views without delay, Took in the draughts of each new spray. Of all fair towns within the land This stands the equal of the band. For learning dw^ells within their speech, Historic men they all can reach. Sweet ville, thy charms will never flee. Thy shady homes are filled with glee, Thy springs and lake shall ever last. And be to me as but the past. Thy rocks and rills and brooks and dell. And shady groves before me sw^ell Into a home of rarest air. Such scenes as these I love to share. Oft have I loitered on thy green, Kissed parting words to this fair scene ; Again returned my step so slow Without one thought of evil woe. I listened to the warbling birds, And sighed to own the larger herds. Not such for me — but be content ; Let others have- — but I the cent. Where, O where will I ever go, Mid flowery scenes or whitened snow, To look new fields before me spread Throughout this world like one great thread. O Silver Lake! thy beauty stcinds; Is not repulsed by beating sands ; Close neighbor to the village green. And to my mind will ever seem. A SONNET So years have touched the genious power that rang, And wrought on chiseled towers of Egypt sands ; Have bent once living oaks which lashed the spans O'er some clear, crystal stream where waters sang; And yet will weave into our lives a time Of rest. There lyric songs are heard that lure. And there the saints do dwell in garments pure, Whose robes are whitened as through minstrel chime. O'er brow of man the snowy locks do hang, Changed by the warp and w^oof of this great power; So Earth's orbit, with surest tune to lend. Will change to circled form like stars that sang Their morning song, then bend to growing shower ; In stillness write on walls of time — no end. THE HEAVENLY LIGHTS The North Star has its northern play While V^ega comes the other way And bright Arctiirurs has its blast And Sirius far South at last. The planets swing their course around Each one is silent — has no sound And Jupiter with his power Moves slowly in his twelve-year hour. And Saturn still is farther ofT With double rings that soar aloft Neptune three-billion miles away Is farthest out in solar ray. The Milky W^ay bends o'er our head From North to South with equal spread ^Vhat million stars its volume holds Like many million tons of .s^old. POESY Where, O wher^ are the waters clear That span thv^ hollow land severe, And carry though the watery deep A boat we envy and replete? Proud it is of its lyric name; Triumphant in its course the same ; Onward it moves with rapid power, In Sunlight or in misty lower. THE BABE OF BETHLEHEM Far from the east the star led on The wise men to the holy place. Till o'er the home where Jesus lay Beneath the sun's light hidden ray. O blessed hope a new born day For ancient doubt had passed away; The new born child had brought a ray Of hope and love while she did pray. Let heaven and earth rejoice and sing; Rejoicing for that new born king. We'll praise Him ever while we live ; Our sweetest thought wx'll ever give. Then down to Egypt they did go To get away from bitter w^oe. Again returned to Galilee A rural spot nearby the sea. In Judea's land in pastures green This tiny baby yet was seen Folded close to its mother's breast — Here once more — and this child was blest. They -come, they come from east and west, To see the child by mother blest — The prince of peace, the Lord on high, The ruler of the world and sky. That wonderous love for Christ to know My eyes in tears do overflow. He's pleading now the cause of man Before the throne on high to span. Is there on glory in the sky For some poor lonely passerby. The wondrous worlds he called in form, And yet with beauty did adorn. NATURE Proiul Nature clothe thyself anew, Let crystal flakes take place of dew, Throw round this globe a robe of white, Festoon the earth l)oth day and night. The chilling winds may past us go. Even to keep with beating snow ; Whistling through the pinetree bowers That made peace with May-day showers. The sun doth help the glittering gems To glow and sparkle on their stems And starry vaulted heavens grow Uplifted from the beating snow The moon will throw her silvered light Upon this fairy scene at night, Keeping her veiled watch by day Beneath the high throned Alilky Way. NO OTHER WAY. ST. JOHN, IX. No other way the blind man knew, For Jesus bade, go wash, renew ! Forth to the pool this least one went, The lonely one that Jesus sent. \Miere waters gently flow adown To shady rills and past the crown. Yet not so cool but sweet are they .To those that come no other way. Seek we this place whe'ere it be ; Seek we this one on land or sea. Be sure of this : Christ is the way. Re-echo words — go wash, obey. EACH PASSING DAY Each passing day brings something new That touch the flowers with evening dew ; But morning's sun, a glorious fire. Burns up the dew, then reaches higher. How changful are the thoughts of man? They wander far, a world to span. He reaches out with thought and eye To far-ofl^ lands beyond the sky. The splendors of a world unseen, The fields enwrapped with living green, Do each a promise ever give That though we die, again we'll live. We'll live once more in f ar-oiT shores ; We'll pass from this through other doors. And the bright gleam of the world above Will light the scene with heavenly love. THE .AIYSTERTES OF THE SKY On Shinar's plain in gardens green Did the high vaulted heavens lean They reached the moon, they pierced the sky And told the news to passers-by. When Hershell caught the Milky Way . And traced its light from day to day He planned new schemes from star to star And reached five hundred suns afar. Spread out his scope once more to tell And how the misty hazes swell Their mountains rise to mountains peak And yet their mysteries he would seek. THE LEDGER When on this convex world 1 stand And view the 1)ecint!es of the land. Proud cities rise he fore my gaze, And spires and domes shine for'h their rays. I seat me down by green-leaf towers, That nature paints with siui i:i:d ^diowers, And see new beaut'> s cA'crywhere ; So thoughts go for:h .he t Ixanish care. Here, in this land of living green, A river wide and long is seen ; Close by its banks the green bush grows, And through the land it ever flows ; Onward it flow^s to meet the sea. Where green-caps kiss, with mirthful glee, Those waters pure, and pearly, too, 'Tis these they crown with vested hue. Fond Nature spreads her eagle wing, Flies to the pure and plashy spring ; Here she watches with enduring love Her countless beauties from above. Roll on, O silent cloud of m"rth ! Let thy pure waters reach the hearth ; Send forth thy crystals, pure and free. To gladden man, bird, beast and bee. And now, fond Nature, where's thy God, Who rules so justly not by rod. But fashions all the beauties shown By love and power, all His own ? The new fledged offspring strives in vain To stem the blast of the hurricane ; But it to the regions lower drops, Midway between the storm and rocks. Ye fields of grain that nature grows. That buds and blooms for others' woes, Let thy golden hour soon draw near, Each heart to please, each home to cheer. The far-off fields, where reapers sing, Are yielding to the present King Their stores of richest, golden grain, That budded, grew, with sun and rain. The watch dog from his kennel comes And bays the whispering wind and drums, Then shoots away to that cool spring. Where song birds come to dip the wing. The lonely wanderer from afar. Takes rest beneath the shining star ; He looks to far-off' fields above. To shining, starlit fields of love. Am I a wanderer, poor, oppressed, Penniless, homeless, without rest, Striving bravely against the blast, To catch the lifeboat soon, at last? When summer's parting blooms are gone. And winter's chilling winds come on, We look to other scenes of love, Where beauty's hand has wrapped her glove. The sun his daily trip doth make. And cheers the earth from sea to lake ; Each day he brings new tidings free From the far-off* lands beyond the sea. That silvered moon that shines by night, Has driven the sun far out of sight ; But she, bright sister of the star Lights up the world, both near and far. Silvered champion of the night, Who called you there so fair and bright? 'Twas God, who called me to fulfil The promise that was in His will. He spoke the word, and it was done; I came forth as a nightly sun ; He gave me glory and renown, That men of earth might see my crown. This crown I wear where ere I go ; Perhaps it's through the drifting snow; The sun expands it to my feet. 'Tis then my glory is complete. A friend to earth I've always been ; I've given light so do not sin. Come, come, O man, and go with me, Climb to heights of eternity. Ye whispering winds which kiss the sail That flapped in many a strong gale. Kiss now the cup that holds the seas, Change roaring laughter into breeze. And now fond Earth, when each has passed, And all the living gone at last. Let thy fair fields for others grow, The golden grains which they may sow. OF WHITTIER a sonnl;t One bravest, sweetest singer of the land Has joined the noble dead. No pain he felt At the request. Our weary hearts will melt, As love shall fill our former hearts of sand. So gentle, great and kind was he each day In all he did and wrote to all mankind, That loving thoughts shall fill our inmost mind, As we think of Whittier and his good way. No more he'll play the lyre of music song, No more his strains to listening ears will roll Their sweetest notes. But be it sure to all He lived a poet, great amid the throng Whose notes will last while on the ages roll, In finest fire and in the lyric call. (George ^mitfj ^apne Poet and Astronomer POET, astronomer, mathematician, urbane gentleman of the old school, George Smith Payne, a resident of Waterloo, Iowa, and at the time this book is published, 1920, is starting on the eighty-third year of his life in rugged health, with clear mind and in the hope that he may long be spared to enjoy his books, his studies and his friends. Mr. Payne in early days was a teacher. He was one of the first to formulate a plan of double entry bookkeeping. He reveled in figures and enjoyed a study of the stars. For many years past Mr. Payne has fol- lowed the trade of shoeinaker. But while repairing footwear his mind has strayed into the field of poetry, and between taps of the hammer he has jotted down some fine verses. W. B. Howell & Co., r,ih Ushers II a (cr loo. Iowa LIBRPRY OF CONGRESS I iiiii Hill Hill Mill Hill Mill Mill mil mil mil iiiii iiii iiii 021 929 758 •