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POEMS 
 
 LEONORA MILLIKEN BOSS 
 
POEMS 
 
 By 
 LEONORA MILLIKEN BOSS 
 
 Published by 
 AUSTIN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 LOS ANGELES, CAL. 
 

 
 n'^ 
 
 Copyright, 1918, by 
 Leonora Milliken Boss 
 
 DEC 30 ibid 
 
 ©Ci.A5i i !4i 
 
 ^x « V 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 A Christmas Story 59 
 
 A Christmas Story 63 
 
 Another 48 
 
 A Lesson 38 
 
 A Lesson 39 
 
 A Lesson 26 
 
 A Message (To M) 69 
 
 A Message 78 
 
 A Sermon 27 
 
 Ask and Ye Shall Receive 32 
 
 A Thanksgiving Story 51 
 
 A True Story 56 
 
 California 42 
 
 Capital and Labor 22 
 
 Delve 25 
 
 Equality 20 
 
 For Roselle Smith 13 
 
 Friendship 15 
 
 House of Hohenzollern 72 
 
 Madge Sinclair 11 
 
 Memorial Day 31 
 
 Oh Ye of Little Faith 14 
 
 On the Battlefields of France 77 
 
 Our Eastern Star 24 
 
 Poems Prophetic 72 
 
 Practice and Preaching 36 
 
 Sequel 62 
 
 Thanksgiving 50 
 
 The Coming of Truth 34 
 
 The Eastland 46 
 
 The Forest 79 
 
 The Good Ship Progression 35 
 
 The Great Cross of Red 77 
 
 The Healing Power of Nature 76 
 
 The Lake Sequoia 7 
 
 The Land I Love the Best 44 
 
 The Legacy 71 
 
 The Passing 30 
 
 The Redwood Forest 9 
 
 The Sequoias 41 
 
 The Source 49 
 
 The Tie that Binds 18 
 
 The Titanic 16 
 
 Unchained License 37 
 
 What Is Faith and What Is Prayer? 19 
 
INSPIRATIONAL POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 Leonora Milliken Boss 
 
 THE LAKE SEQUOIA 
 
 In a setting of pines and cedars, 
 
 The lake Sequoia lies; 
 And in its depths reflected, 
 
 Shine forth the azure skies. 
 
 Wrapped in this beauteous setting, 
 Who could, unmoved, behold 
 
 The rare and splendid beauty, 
 By poets pen untold. 
 
 And when the night advances. 
 And the moon above the pines 
 
 Shines forth upon the water, 
 The setting then combines 
 
 To entrance and holds the looker 
 Who Nature's works admire; 
 
 They can gaze and gaze in wonder, 
 Gathered 'round the old camp fire. 
 
 The beauties of stream and forest; 
 
 The falls, Sequoia, near; 
 All tell of a splendid Sculptor, 
 
 A Sculptor without peer. 
 
 The mountains are the handiwork, 
 As also the setting grand ; 
 
 But lake Sequoia cannot claim 
 This Sculptor's mighty hand. 
 
8 Inspirational Poems 
 
 But, beautiful in the setting, 
 Bestowed by Nature's hand. 
 
 She shines forth in that beauty 
 Of which she has command. 
 
 Above this forest masterpiece 
 
 The giant redwoods tower; 
 Here lies the "Fallen Monarch," 
 
 Great in his passing hour. 
 
 Beside him, ever standing guard. 
 Is "Lee," a giant straight and tall; 
 
 While higher still, above them 
 Is "Grant," in command of all. 
 
 From whom the national park. 
 
 Later, derived its name; 
 From whom its popularity 
 
 In the greatest measure came. 
 
 Combining all these beauties 
 
 With the wonders here and there, 
 
 Make this great forest masterpiece 
 A scene beyond compare. 
 
 But, adding to the natural scene, 
 
 That 'round about it lies; 
 The artificial beauty 
 
 Of the lake Sequoia, vies. 
 July 8th, 1914. 
 
 *The Lake Sequoia is an artificial lake, in the Sierras, 
 California, near General Grant Park. The named trees 
 are Redwoods (Sequoias) and are in this Park; the 
 General Grant measuring 108 feet around at the base. 
 They are several thousand years old. 
 
Inspirational Poems 
 
 THE REDWOOD FOREST 
 
 Many years have passed and gone, 
 Since red men by the score, 
 
 Trailed through the high Sierras, 
 On fair Pacific's shore. 
 
 They roamed the wildwood knowing 
 Their every need was there; 
 
 For One above had furnished 
 Their humble, daily fare. 
 
 The forest was their hunting ground, 
 The wigwam was their home; 
 
 And happy and contented. 
 
 They, day by day, would roam. 
 
 They cared not to destroy the growth, 
 The "Great Spirit" planted there. 
 
 And so the forest grew apace, 
 A thing of beauty rare. 
 
 Great redwoods towered as giants. 
 
 Above all species known; 
 They grew there unmolested, 
 
 While the redman held his own. 
 
 But lo! the white man entered 
 The Indian's rightful home. 
 
 And took possession forcibly; 
 An outcast he must roam. 
 
 Then taking axe and wedge and saw, 
 He entered the forest great; 
 
 And each tree there, so stately, 
 Would share an equal fate. 
 
 Not one thought would e'er be given, 
 Of the years it took to grow. 
 
 Those perfect trees of redwood. 
 Which now would be laid low. 
 
10 Inspirational Poems 
 
 For the white man's head could never 
 
 In a wigwam sheltered be; 
 A house must have a covering 
 
 Of shingles; don't you see? 
 
 And what so beautiful as redwood, 
 For the roof and for the side? 
 So were doomed the forest beauties; 
 I For rank selfishness, they died. 
 
 The v/ork of thousand years and more, 
 
 Was ruthlessly laid low, 
 And the ruin that was wrought 
 
 Charred stumps today will show. 
 
 What was placed here by the Father, 
 What should have been our pride. 
 
 For the selfish greed of white men, 
 In greatest measure died. 
 
 So we wonder if improvement 
 Follows ever the pale of face? 
 
 Or if there was not something lost 
 With passing of red-skinned race. 
 
 And we wonder, and we wonder, 
 
 In our egotistic pride, 
 If selfishness has taken root 
 
 And forever will abide. 
 
 And if the Father careth 
 
 For His white children all, 
 And seeth everything they do? 
 
 Notes "every sparrow's fall"; 
 
 And if perchance there may not be 
 A warmer spot than all the rest, 
 
 And, in His heart. He may not love 
 His red-skinned children best. 
 August 1st, 1914. 
 
 Written upon seeing the charred stumps of what was 
 once a fine grove of redwoods in the Sierras, near General 
 Grant National Park. 
 
Inspirational Poems 11 
 
 MADGE SINCLAIR 
 
 We wish to give to you this morn, 
 An example of worth most true, 
 
 Showing that each, within himself, 
 A work of great good may do. 
 
 The New Year day dawned bright and clear, 
 And resounding on the frosty air 
 
 Was the music of the sleigh-bells. 
 Borne into home of Madge Sinclair. 
 
 Old Madge was called a witch, you know. 
 By all those simple country folk; 
 
 And every one in passing by 
 
 Would crack at her expense some joke. 
 
 This morn she sat at her fireside, 
 
 And, pondering o'er the past. 
 She wondered why, against her will. 
 
 She bore the name of witch, outcast. 
 
 She could not ward off the rappings, 
 She could not do away with the voice. 
 
 Which came and ever kept coming; 
 It bade her take heart and rejoice. 
 
 That she was among the favored of earth, 
 And, as a servant, she was to help bear 
 
 A great and mighty truth from God. 
 To her brethren so ignorant there. 
 
 She had been chosen by One who knew, 
 And though she seemed to stand alone, 
 
 "Remember that 'He who doeth well,' 
 The path of duty to you hath shown. 
 
 And for this work which you're to do 
 A recompense you'll surely see, 
 
 For a power you do not understand 
 Hath given a charge concerning thee. 
 
12 Inspirational Poems 
 
 The jingling of the bells aroused her; 
 
 And, starting up, her heart stood still; 
 For the sleigh was o'erturned, and the driver 
 
 She thought the horses would kill. 
 
 Not one moment she waited to think of self; 
 
 For the voice had bidden her go 
 And lend her aid in the rescuing then 
 
 Of the injured out there in the snow. 
 
 She found there were several needing help, 
 And aiding them all, as best she might, 
 
 She got them into her dwelling; 
 
 Where was burning the fire so bright. 
 
 She warmed and fed, she bound up bruises; 
 
 And, thru the power that to her was given, 
 She was enabled to warm their hearts; 
 
 A gift that she had asked from heaven. 
 
 And as the story was noised abroad, 
 (For the leaven of good worketh well) ; 
 
 Many there came to inquire of her, 
 And many good words there fell 
 
 From those who had been as leaders 
 
 In the mockery heretofore; 
 And the leaven kept on ever working, 
 
 As worked the leaven of yore. 
 
 And inquiring more into hidden truths. 
 Unfolding by each one learned, 
 
 They came at last to understand 
 That truth which they had spurned. 
 
 And this is what I would show you all ; 
 
 That forth from the lowliest home 
 May the seed of truth be scattered, 
 
 And forever it will roam. 
 
 Wafted onward by a zephyr's breath, 
 So light, that none would e'er see. 
 
 It grows and grows in volume; 
 
 This truth which shall set you free. 
 
Inspirational Poems 13 
 
 And a better time is knocking, friends, 
 Oh! will you not now let it in, 
 
 Or will you drive forth from your door 
 Your staunchest friend, again? 
 
 This leaven works; and to you will come 
 
 (Without your aid, if so must be), 
 The thing you fight and censure now; 
 The friend who will set you free. 
 November 20th, 1911. 
 
 FOR ROSELLE SMITH 
 
 To one little girl in the wild-wood, 
 
 Whose wish we have caught on the wing, 
 
 This poem is given to show her 
 That tho't is a wonderful thing. 
 
 Send it forth in all goodness, it enters 
 
 The air and is wafted away, 
 Until it reaches a helpmate 
 
 Who gives it the pure light of day. 
 
 Now little girl, this is prayer. 
 
 And is answered in God's own way. 
 
 Through agents, tho' ever unknowing, 
 Do the work as is done to-day. 
 
 May this little missive encourage 
 
 You ever in fields of right; 
 Knowing that God watches over, 
 
 And is never out of sight. 
 July 17th, 1918. 
 
14 Inspirational Poems 
 
 "OH YE OF LITTLE FAITH" 
 
 "Oh! ye of little faith"; 
 
 Oh! ye of judgment poor 
 Why envy ye the wealthy, 
 
 When riches are at your door? 
 
 The law is not to "covet," 
 
 But contented be with your own; 
 
 Knowing that all shall surely 
 
 "Reap the harvest they have sown." 
 
 There is a "divinity ever shaping" 
 The ends of each, while here; 
 
 And though we oft "rough hew" them, 
 The guiding hand is near. 
 
 The man of smallest means, 
 
 Laboring for those he loves on earth, 
 Is wealthier far than he who iills 
 
 His coffers at the poor man's hearth. 
 
 For there's a power surrounding 
 
 The laborer at his toil ; 
 That draweth nearer through conditions, 
 
 And 'twill pour the soothing oil 
 
 On the poor when time is ripe; 
 
 Not so, the man of greater wealth. 
 For he loses, in a measure, 
 
 His love of God, in greed for pelf. 
 
 Take heed for the time is nearing 
 When the millionaire stands alone; 
 
 And those whom he's defrauded 
 Shall come into their own. 
 
 For tho' the Father (power divine), 
 
 Would scatter love on all. 
 Some cannot catch the faintest echo 
 
 Of the chords that rise and fall. 
 
Inspirational Poems 15 
 
 So patiently abide the time 
 
 When you near the "gates ajar," 
 
 If not while here; and you shall reap 
 Those blessings from afar. 
 July 17th, 1918. 
 
 FRIENDSHIP 
 
 We often meet in walks of life. 
 Those who are strange of face; 
 
 But they oftimes in passing, 
 Have left the faintest trace 
 
 Of something we can hardly name, 
 But, still, must own it's there; 
 
 A something that in passing, 
 Has left our lives more fair. 
 
 And may there not, in meeting here, 
 
 Within this forest grand, 
 A friendship been cemented, 
 
 A friendship that will stand. 
 
 We meet, we part, we know not how, 
 
 Or when again we'll meet. 
 But there is, in forest friendship, 
 
 A something rare and sweet. 
 
 And may it be in after years, 
 These days you'll each recall, 
 
 And linger then with fondness 
 On the crowning scene of all, 
 
 The forest; with its stately trees, 
 So large and straight and grand, 
 
 A monument to friendship, 
 For in unity they stand. 
 
 Not a chord that is not vibrant 
 
 With harmony supreme; 
 Take them ever for your guidance. 
 
 Then you'll know what friendship means. 
 July 29th, 1918. 
 
16 Inspirational Poems 
 
 THE TITANIC 
 
 Out from a port of England, 
 
 On one fair April day, 
 The giant ship. Titanic, 
 
 Sailed proudly on her way. 
 
 People from all lands had taken 
 Passage aboard the vessel great; 
 
 It was her maiden voyage. 
 And a record she was to make. 
 
 So, swiftly sailing onward. 
 
 With that end and aim in view, 
 
 She lost sight of those aboard her 
 And put her engines through. 
 
 We'll make New York in two days more, 
 
 Now captain, do your best; 
 Put on more steam and speed her up, 
 
 This is to be a test. 
 
 This, in thought if not in words; 
 
 When lo! there hove in sight 
 A mighty iceberg, bearing down; 
 
 She was then in sorry plight. 
 
 Too late; although the cry was given; 
 
 And the mighty ship went on 
 To" the doom which now awaited. 
 
 And would come, ere came the dawn. 
 
 Quietly the captain ordered 
 
 A wireless message sent, 
 Saying that they were in trouble; 
 
 That the vessel had been rent 
 
 By an iceberg; and they waited 
 
 The help of all who heard; 
 Knowing that the ship was doomed ; 
 
 Still he gave out cheering word. 
 
Inspirational Poems 17 
 
 Standing high upon the vessel, 
 
 With a megaphone in hand, 
 Came the orders to the people, 
 
 From Captain Smith, then in command. 
 
 "Man the life-boats", came the call; 
 
 "Women and children first" and then, 
 As some of them seemed to waver, 
 
 He called, "Be British, my men." 
 
 One by one they filled the lifeboats, 
 With the ones whom they held dear; 
 
 Striving all the while to calm them. 
 
 Though their hearts were dumb with fear. 
 
 For they knew the ship was doomed. 
 
 Slowly sinking all the while; 
 Still they spoke in words assuring. 
 
 Giving out to them a smile. 
 
 "We will follow later, dear ones, 
 Keep up heart for you are brave"; 
 
 Then they turned to help the others. 
 While they faced a watery grave. 
 
 When the last boat left, they felt 
 
 That they were now alone 
 Awaiting death; slow torture; 
 
 While the moon on the water shone. 
 
 The orchestra commenced to play, 
 
 "Nearer my God to Thee," 
 And as each one heard the music. 
 
 More resigned they seemed to be. 
 
 Climbing to the topmost deck. 
 
 Wearing each, a hero's crown, 
 They waited yet the curtain 
 
 That, soon now, would go down. 
 
 And still they played; and lower 
 Sank the ship, the seamen's pride; 
 
 With the waters closing o'er her, 
 The bravest of heroes died. 
 
18 Inspirational Poems 
 
 A blot upon the escutcheon 
 Which shows a country's greed; 
 
 All victims of disaster 
 
 Of which there was no need. 
 The sinking of ttie Titanic occurred in April, 1912. 
 
 THE TIE THAT BINDS 
 
 There are people of various colors, 
 
 Who dwell upon this earth; 
 They each have a different nature, 
 
 Which honestly came by birth. 
 
 Some wear clothes of different kinds, 
 
 While some wear none at all ; 
 Some are short, some are stout, 
 
 And some are slender and tall. 
 
 But the thing that draws them together, 
 
 That holds them firm and fast, 
 Is the family tie which binds them, 
 
 And this tie will ever last. 
 
 You may kick against the traces, 
 
 You may fret and fume in vain ; 
 There is nothing which can sever. 
 
 For natural law is the binding chain. 
 
 So, as you're children of one family, 
 All have a right to their Father's love; 
 
 An equal share, along with yourself; 
 This comes to them from above; 
 
 Providing they're placed to receive it; 
 
 If they ask in the right kind of way. 
 For the Father's love is boundless, 
 
 It will last forever and aye. 
 
 Now as you must learn to place yourself. 
 So must your brethren do the same; 
 
 And, if you are farther up the ladder. 
 
 Reach down your hand,in the Father's name. 
 
Inspirational Poems 19 
 
 Then shall you advance another step, 
 For the good deed you have done; 
 
 All must work to help each other; 
 Then the victory will be won. 
 
 You cannot say "I am white while you 
 
 Are only a low down nigger," 
 For just such words as these will show 
 
 You up, at your true figure. 
 
 You cannot say, "I am black and you 
 Are the poorest of poor white trash"; 
 
 For you are not the one to scourge; 
 Your Father applies the lash. 
 
 So, whatever color may be ours. 
 
 Let us live the best we can, 
 And work with all our strength to bring 
 
 The brotherhood of man. 
 
 WHAT IS FAITH AND WHAT IS 
 PRAYER? 
 
 Faith is the trustful looking forward 
 To a thing you think must be; 
 
 Prayer is the asking, in that faith, 
 Knowing it will come to thee. 
 
 Faith is next to knowledge. 
 And cultivated well will show; 
 
 Prayer is the concentrated asking, 
 And is a flower that's sure to blow. 
 
 Faith as defined above must show you 
 That few possess it in the rough; 
 
 'Tis a thing that may be stored, 
 And one never has enough. 
 
 When there's sufficient quantity. 
 
 Imbued within your soul. 
 You may ask and you'll receive; 
 
 Much is within your own control. 
 July 17th, 1918. 
 
20 Inspirational Poems 
 
 EQUALITY 
 
 Once upon a time there lived 
 Two children of one father kind; 
 
 These two were brother and sister, 
 But unlike, as you will find. 
 
 This father desired them to share alike; 
 
 And, to that end, he gave the two 
 An equal right in his estate; 
 
 "Life, liberty, and happiness" to pursue. 
 
 But the brother, who was stronger. 
 
 Would run things to his will ; 
 He thought his sister had no rights, 
 
 She must ask him or keep still. 
 
 This he had learned from false teachings; 
 
 And, as it suited his pride, 
 He laid claim to all he could see 
 
 Of his sister's whose rights he denied. 
 
 He felt that he was such a man, 
 
 And she, so weak and frail. 
 That he must not allow her 
 
 What equal right would entail. 
 
 She was more fit to rule a home; 
 
 In ways that he considered wise; 
 Where he could sit and smoke his pipe, 
 
 Although she might tobacco despise. 
 
 And he might wish to enter 
 This home, in a drunken trim. 
 
 And it were fit that she be there, 
 To cheer and care for him. 
 
 It would not be home without her; 
 
 No, indeed! how could it be? 
 Who would build the fires in winter. 
 
 Who would to his comfort see? 
 
Inspirational Poems 21 
 
 She could not be spared to vote; 
 
 And then, that was not enough, 
 But, "a delicate, dainty woman" 
 
 Should not mingle with the rough. 
 
 And voting was far too hard a task 
 
 To impose on one so frail ; 
 So, he would carry this heavy load. 
 
 While she, the "cow could pail." 
 
 So many household duties claimed her, 
 
 And he wanted it understood. 
 That he was there to protect her; 
 
 'Twas enough, if she chopped the wood. 
 
 So, brotherly affection grew apace, 
 
 And her burdens he kept lifting, 
 Giving her such lightsome tasks 
 
 As shoveling snow when drifting. 
 
 But things wore on; there came a time 
 When the father showed his hand: 
 
 "My son," he said, "I've stood it long. 
 This is not as I have planned." 
 
 "Now come you forward and receive 
 
 The merit you've richly v^'on; 
 I will repay for the burdens lifted. 
 
 You may now take the lighter, my son." 
 
 "You, henceforth, may pail the cow. 
 You may chop and carry the wood. 
 
 You may shovel the snow v/hen drifting, 
 For you are noble and good." 
 
 You may build the fires and cook, 
 
 And when the house is warm, 
 You may call your sister dear; 
 
 She the smoking will perform. 
 
 "I wish you to greet her with a smile, 
 For you will have the easier load; 
 
 And, when she comes in from a drunken spree, 
 Welcome her to this abode." 
 
22 Inspirational Poems 
 
 "For the tables are turned, and your father 
 Will have it as He has planned; 
 
 And equally will you share in all; 
 This is His ultimate command." 
 October 11th, 1911. 
 
 CAPITAL AND LABOR 
 
 Now the lesson to be given is for all to con ; 
 
 The wealthy are God's children as you'll own, 
 But, the favored of His family, an entirely 
 different class, 
 The ones who know it not, as will be plainly 
 shown. 
 
 Let us take the man of millions; the envied of 
 today : 
 He must cater to opinion, to fashion; and at 
 night. 
 However tired, cannot in peace retire to rest; 
 There are burdens heavy, pressing that are 
 anything but bright. 
 
 Missives piled upon him, which come from far 
 and near, 
 Asking alms and begging for greater sum or 
 less; 
 And all the while he's wondering of investments 
 and whatnot. 
 Until his brain is racking in a common, worldly 
 mess. 
 
 Now, we turn unto the other; the poor, the 
 favored one, 
 He who guards his humble dwelling, fighting 
 wolves away 
 (From those he loves) with his strong tho' single 
 arm. 
 While he's learning greatest lessons, every hour 
 and every day. 
 
Inspirational Poems 23 
 
 The laborer when the day is done, with weary 
 step and slow, 
 Plods homeward; and his evening meal the' 
 meager set, 
 Has, by sweat of brow, been honestly and richly 
 earned. 
 And provides a strength the wealthy may not 
 get. 
 
 His weary head is pillowed, oftimes on coarsest 
 straw ; 
 But, hovering near him in his dreamless sleep, 
 Are those who visions bring of happiness and 
 peace. 
 And of the riches rare, that he and those he 
 loves shall reap. 
 
 He, in his extremity draws nearer to the fountain 
 of all good. 
 Than any whose material need is readily and 
 easily supplied; 
 And thus, there comes the unseen aid and 
 blessings to him, 
 Which unto the other, in a sense, have been 
 denied. 
 
 When the change occurs that cometh to one and 
 all alike, 
 How finds it, the wealthy man and he of lesser 
 means? 
 As told so long ago "the first shall be the last 
 the last the first," 
 For everything is shifted, and lo! the change 
 of scenes. 
 
 The man who has labored for those he loved, 
 laboring long and well. 
 Will then receive his just reward, the lion's 
 share ; 
 While the wealthy can learn, for it's never too 
 late; 
 And they'll be the alms askers from "over 
 there." 
 July 5th, 1918. 
 
24 Inspirational Poems 
 
 OUR EASTERN STAR* 
 
 Long, long ago as you count time, 
 
 Some wise men from afar, 
 Looked to the east and there beheld 
 
 A sign, the Eastern Star. 
 
 They followed where it led them. 
 
 And found a baby boy — 
 The Christ child sent to scatter 
 
 Words of wisdom, truth and joy. 
 
 To Him was given a gift divine, 
 By the Father whom all adore ; 
 
 Through Him it was to bless mankind, 
 And fit them for better shore. 
 
 This gift was in more forms than one: 
 Seeing, Hearing and Prophecy true; 
 
 He was a medium 'twixt earth and heaven, 
 Sent by the Father a work to do. 
 
 This work He did ; it mattered not 
 What station they filled, if they 
 
 Were needy who asked for assistance, 
 He never said one of them nay. 
 
 He taught them the many truths 
 Which formed His mission there; 
 
 He told them of the loving One 
 Whose message He came to bear. 
 
 He extended the cup of cold water, 
 Gave ever the word of cheer, 
 
 Told them of the loving Father 
 Whom none had need to fear. 
 
 Told them that, they too, were children 
 Of that Power, the same as He, 
 
 And as such they were His brethren, 
 Whom He came on Earth to free. 
 
 ♦Subject chosen by Mrs. J. C. Luther, Memphis, Mo. 
 
Inspirational Poems 25 
 
 And when at last He was betrayed 
 
 By those more false than true, 
 He asked: "Forgive them, Father, 
 
 They know not what they do." 
 
 He did His duty well, earth friends; 
 
 And because of that gift divine, 
 He suffered death upon the cross; 
 
 'Twas your loving brother and mine. 
 
 And now, as in those days of old, 
 When the Wise Men looked afar. 
 
 There shines a bright, a radiant light, 
 And we'll follow our Eastern Star. 
 
 For, as it once led those Wise Men 
 To the Christ child God had sent, 
 
 May it not now us onward lead 
 To the truth His coming meant? 
 
 And, feeling thus, well follow on. 
 Led by that light which shines afar, 
 
 That we of earth are pleased to call. 
 Our guiding light, "Our Eastern Star." 
 
 DELVE 
 
 Oh the healing, soothing music, 
 Of whispering, singing pine; 
 
 Telling as we sit and listen. 
 Of a something most Divine. 
 
 As we view the fleecy clouds, 
 Sailing in the azure blue. 
 
 Past the lofty pine and cedar, 
 What a feeling thrills us through! 
 
 What a world of interest opens, 
 As we gaze on every side! 
 
 jEvery leaflet has a story. 
 Nothing to us is denied. 
 
26 Inspirational Poems 
 
 It is ours to delve into it, 
 Every question, we will find, 
 
 Has an answer; we can grasp it 
 When we cultivate the mind. 
 
 Every language that is spoken 
 
 By the bird, the squirrel, the tree, 
 
 Can be grasped by human beings 
 If they care those signs to see 
 
 That are vouchsafed to each species. 
 By the Power who placed them here; 
 
 Then go forward with your learning, 
 Everything shall be made clear. 
 July 29th, 1918. 
 
 A LESSON 
 
 A flower from out a shady dell, 
 
 Had scattered perfume on the air; 
 Although it was in humble quarters, 
 Still it a message to earth did bear. 
 
 That message was one of the Father's lovCj, 
 And it gave to all who came; 
 On white or black, on rich or poor, 
 Its fragrance was shed the same. 
 
 And thus it fulfilled its mission. 
 
 As any of you may do; 
 It pleasure gave to the passer by, 
 
 It proved a messenger true. 
 
 And this we would have you learn, 
 That it matters not color or race, 
 
 But how we perform our mission; 
 For each of us has a place. 
 
 Your duty 'tis to fill that place, 
 In the very best way that you can, 
 
 And prove a trusty messenger, 
 Both to your God and man. 
 
Inspirational Poems 27 
 
 A SERMON 
 
 As I passed (one Sabbath morn), 
 
 A church in splendor dressed, 
 I heard the oft repeated words, 
 
 "Come unto me, I will give thee rest." 
 
 Footsore and weary, I'd traveled far; 
 
 And, turning, I approached the door, 
 Thinking to find a haven of rest; 
 
 For heavy was the load that I bore. 
 
 I entered the splendid edifice, 
 And sat me down in a pew to rest; 
 
 Surely I was not dreaming, 
 
 That promise had stood the test. 
 
 I had not sat there very long. 
 When an usher stepped up to me; 
 
 "This is against the rules you know. 
 These pews," he said, "are not free." 
 
 "Where do you go when you're heavy laden, 
 Where is the rest you receive?" 
 
 "This is a maniac, send him away. 
 He is crazy, I surely believe." 
 
 "Not crazy," said I, "but expecting to see, 
 
 The words of Jesus fulfilled; 
 Which I heard as I was passing;" 
 
 Then all the house was stilled. 
 
 Up rose a gentleman and pardon craved 
 For the interruption but, if he could. 
 
 He'd "like to speak to the stranger 
 Who'd profaned the temple of God." 
 
 Permission was given and, making his way 
 To the pew where I'd sat me down. 
 
 He entered and, sitting beside me. 
 He cast a furtive glance 'round. 
 
28 Inspirational Poems 
 
 "Now, friend, your trouble I will hear, 
 And then we will later decide; 
 
 Speak out and tell it all to me, 
 I promise that I'll not deride." 
 
 My story I told in the fewest words, 
 
 He arose and went back to his seat, 
 
 No time for commenting; but "later" 
 
 He'd see me "out on the street." 
 
 No one disturbed me and I sat on. 
 In the pew which was not free; 
 
 I heard again the text repeated, 
 
 "Ye who are heavy laden, come unto Me." 
 
 The sermon, though lengthy was ended, 
 And a brother was asked to pray, 
 He arose and went back to his seat, 
 'Twas he who'd asked pardon that day. 
 
 "Our Heavenly Father to Thee we come, 
 
 And ask for blessings to all; 
 May they flow abundantly for the poor. 
 
 Will you answer the stranger's call?" 
 
 "This man is weary, despondent, 
 His children are crying for bread; 
 
 And the work that he has asked for 
 Has yet been denied," he said. 
 
 "Oh! make us more like christians. 
 
 And into our hearts this day 
 Put the gift of greater charity, 
 
 For this, we humbly pray." 
 
 "And here, on bended knee, I crave. 
 One blessing you alone can give. 
 
 Teach, oh teach your servants here, 
 The better way to live." 
 
 "Open our hearts more fully this day, 
 To the teachings of one of old. 
 
 Who did for all the best he could; 
 He counted not worth by gold." 
 
Inspirational Poems 29 
 
 "Teach us to emulate that worth, 
 And practice those teachings here; 
 
 Then followers of the Christ we'll be 
 And need have naught to fear." 
 
 "Oh! Father hear our prayer this day, 
 
 We must ask it once again; 
 Give us the gift of charity; 
 
 We your humble servants are. Amen." 
 
 Up rose the congregation then, 
 While "Nearer My God to Thee," 
 
 Was poured from every throat and heart, 
 And nearer, He seemed to me. 
 
 The benediction then was said. 
 
 And I passed into the street; 
 There to await the coming of him 
 
 Who had said, that again we'd meet. 
 
 I had not very long to wait alone, 
 
 For many in passing by, 
 Had spoken kindly words to me, 
 
 And I felt that again I'd try. 
 
 "I'm here at last, my good man; 
 
 Will you walk up the street with me? 
 I wish you to meet a friend of mine. 
 
 Who may give you a chance," said he. 
 
 Well, I found work through this man, 
 
 And happy I am to-day; 
 For m.ore than one lesson I learned 
 
 The morning I strolled that way. 
 
 I learned that when needs are greatest, 
 That an avenue opens to view. 
 
 Which will lead to better conditions; 
 It has helped me and so 'twill you. 
 
 I learned that in most hearts is kindness, 
 But some one must take the lead; 
 
 And, following after their leader. 
 The others with kindness proceed. 
 
30 Inspirational Poems 
 
 I learned that to accept the little, 
 No matter how small it may be, 
 
 As seeming fulfillment of promise 
 That Christ has made unto thee, 
 
 Brings conditions to surround you, 
 Makes you able to receive; 
 
 Thus your needs supplied can be; 
 This I hope you will believe. 
 
 And this I know, that if you'll read 
 With understanding of His love, 
 
 And practice well his teachings, 
 You'll reap reward above. 
 
 For he was sent by the Father, 
 A messenger of good to be; 
 
 And he did the work assigned him, 
 Which now rests with you and me. 
 
 So, let us take our place, as he, 
 In the work to us assigned. 
 
 And follow ever in his footsteps. 
 Thus bringing truth unto mankind. 
 
 November 1st, 1911. 
 
 THE PASSING 
 
 As one awakening from a dream, 
 I gazed upon the splendors there; 
 
 And, gazing, felt none could exceed 
 This land beyond, most fair. 
 
 I'd heard its praises sung by those, 
 Who as dwellers there could tell 
 
 Much of this land I speak of; 
 But its beauty cast a spell. 
 
 I was dazed; I scarcely knew 
 What had happened to us all ; 
 
 For the last that I remembered, 
 Was our captains dying call. 
 
Inspirational Poems 31 
 
 Now all was over and I felt the same, 
 As though I was still on earth; 
 
 But certainly it could not be, 
 This surely was higher birth. 
 
 I looked around, and seeing many, 
 Some who'd been to me well known; 
 
 My eyes rested upon a being 
 Beautiful as the stars that shone 
 
 Above us on that fateful night. 
 When none on earth could save 
 
 The Titanic and her living freight 
 From filling a watery grave. 
 
 It was Julia; there to meet me; 
 
 She who'd talked to me before; 
 Reaching out her hand to greet me, 
 
 On that bright and boundless shore. 
 
 She had helped to ease my passing. 
 
 And was there to aid us all; 
 She had heard the captain's orders; 
 
 "Man the life boats." At the call 
 
 She with others came unto us. 
 
 Stayed until it all was o'er; 
 Bore us to a place of safety. 
 
 Where we'd wake on farther shore. 
 
 All is well. I bear this message: 
 That all live, and none are dead; 
 
 The one who bears this to you, 
 Is the spirit of William Stead. 
 August 14th, 1912. 
 
 MEMORIAL DAY 
 
 These graves you decorate to-day 
 Hold naught but grossest clay; 
 But the fair blossoms, strewn with love, 
 In memory of those called above. 
 
32 Inspirational Poems 
 
 Will bring unto all, their loved ones dear, 
 Who do not and never did lie here. 
 They come with love unto your side 
 Saying, "Dear ones, we have not died; 
 And the blossoms which we most crave 
 Can never be strewn upon a grave; 
 Can never rest upon the green sod. 
 For they soar ever upward unto God. 
 These are the deeds of kindness, of love, 
 Scattered on earth and wafted above. 
 Not one day in each year, you see. 
 But every day let the sowing be. 
 Decorate the soul by such as these. 
 If you would your loved ones please. 
 Grieve not, oh! friends above a grave; 
 Study the law of Him who gave. 
 For 'tis the same that taketh away 
 The living soul from form of clay. 
 Care you most for the one set free 
 Or the grave, which now you see? 
 Scatter the blossoms rich and fair, 
 For they, a message of love do bear; 
 But forget not this, your loved ones dear, 
 Would have it last throughout the year; 
 And instead of strewing above the clay, 
 Keep, by loving deeds, Memorial Day." 
 
 "ASK AND YE SHALL RECEIVE" 
 
 In humble quarters there lived an old man. 
 
 One who had almost run life's span. 
 
 His scanty hoard would scarce supply 
 
 His urgent needs, though hard he'd try 
 
 To add unto it as he could. 
 
 By chopping for the people, wood. 
 
 He could not bear to look ahead 
 
 And think he'd e'er eat county's bread; 
 
 For, of all the things he wished to shun 
 
 This of being a pauper was one. 
 
Inspirational Poems 33 
 
 He asked in earnest that he might be 
 
 Furnished the work which would keep him free. 
 
 He was not "choice of work," he said, 
 
 "If it was honest. He'd earn his bread." 
 
 One day a snow came and it piled high, 
 
 He felt that he was doomed to die; 
 
 But some one had seen his urgent need 
 
 And raised for him a friend, indeed. 
 
 A hunter, out for sport that day, 
 
 In the swirling snow had lost his way; 
 
 He drifted to the old man's abode 
 
 With the game he'd caught; a weighty load. 
 
 He knocked and received a welcome there, 
 
 Was warmed and fed from scanty fare. 
 
 When leaving, he said, "I give to you 
 
 Half of this game and hope it will do 
 
 Until I come this way again. 
 
 When you'll have cause to rejoice," and then, 
 
 Bidding adieu, he stepped forth in the cold. 
 
 Carrying with him what was more than gold, 
 
 For, from the hands of the one who took him in, 
 
 He had received his life again. 
 
 For, had it not been for the hut he'd spied. 
 
 He surely Vv^ith the cold would have died; 
 
 And had it not been for him who was lost. 
 
 Another life would have been the cost. 
 
 A day had passed, and a sound was heard 
 
 In the distance; was it a bird? 
 
 Ah no! as the sound became more clear, 
 
 On the frosty air, bells he could hear; 
 
 And, drawing up to his hut once more. 
 
 There was the stranger who had come before. 
 
 "Here, my friend, is a debt I owe 
 
 To one who befriended when lost in the snow." 
 
 And out from the sleigh he brought a load, 
 
 Again and again to that humble abode; 
 
 There was food and clothing ; all one could name, 
 
 And from an agent of God it came; then last, 
 
 But not least, of the things that were given. 
 
 Was a purse of gold. Was it from heaven? 
 
 We do not claim that from heaven these fell, 
 
.^4 Inspirational Poems 
 
 But the stranger was prompted to doing well; 
 And forever was gone the old man's woe, 
 For help had come from out the snow. 
 November 11th, 1911. 
 
 THE COMING OF TRUTH 
 
 When the time for which you're waiting, 
 
 Shall stand without your door; 
 When the friends, from whom you've parted, 
 
 Come and talk with you once more; 
 You will know that we have led you 
 
 To the heights where you may view 
 The promised land, awaiting all 
 
 Who follow with the good and true. 
 
 Christ's teachings ne'er can harm you; 
 
 So, follow where He has led; 
 And you will rise to loftier heights, 
 
 With a halo 'round the head. 
 This comes with spiritual growth. 
 
 It is truly a light divine; 
 And is proof of worth within you, 
 
 If that halo for you doth shine. 
 
 None other guide you need, 
 
 Than the teacher good and true. 
 Who came to earth the truth to bring; 
 
 And well He brought it, too. 
 And now He comes again to earth 
 
 Not unrecognized as before. 
 But bearing aloft Truth's banner, 
 
 Which is waving your whole world o'er. 
 
 Open your doors, oh! earth friends. 
 
 And let the Christ-child in; 
 For, with His entrance to your homes, 
 
 You'll a grander life begin. 
 This will bring all things unto you, 
 
 Everything for which you crave, 
 And will rob of all their terror 
 
 The death angel and the grave. 
 
Inspirational Poems 3S 
 
 THE GOOD SHIP PROGRESSION 
 
 ACROSTIC. 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt, fearless and bold, 
 
 Hiram Johnson, a wealth untold; 
 
 Either ready for place assigned. 
 
 Or to sink in oblivion from public mind; 
 
 Doing their duty as they see it to be, 
 
 On they struggle to set men free. 
 
 Raised up have they been in this time of need, 
 
 Ever their brethren's cause to plead. 
 
 Reach forth your hand and kindly clasp 
 One extended; you'll feel the grasp; 
 One touch sufficient to show the friend 
 Sent to aid you to an end; 
 Ever fearless, bold and ready, 
 Viewing all with brain that's steady; 
 Extending hand unto you now. 
 Looks forward to the good ship's prow; 
 The name emblazoned there he sees 
 
 And waves his hat, for it doth please, 
 "Now in this ship launched forth, I sail; 
 Doubt not its strength, it cannot fail." 
 
 Here! clasp this other, pledged to try. 
 In his strong manhood he'll do or die. 
 Right must conquer, when two such friends 
 As these, to the cause their effort bends. 
 Mark them well; no fear is there; 
 
 Joining hands, they form a pair; 
 One well matched in every way. 
 Having the vim to win the day. 
 Now look upon them, sent to bless. 
 Seek out the wrongs and bring redress. 
 Over the waves will the good ship sail, 
 Naught can make this vessel quail. 
 1912. 
 
36 Inspirational Poems 
 
 PRACTICE AND PREACHING 
 
 Work on, work ever, we are near ; 
 
 There is much the heart to cheer; 
 
 Make every one with whom you meet 
 
 Feel that to know you is a treat; 
 
 Live your teachings every day, 
 
 Thus illustrate the better way; 
 
 For you must know that to proclaim 
 
 And never practice, becomes tame. 
 
 And, if your hearers you would impress, 
 
 Practice always, though you preach the less. 
 
 Both were better, all will agree, 
 
 But if one is missing, let it preaching be; 
 
 For even a look at your daily life. 
 
 Should be sufficient to quiet strife 
 
 And make each wish to be like you. 
 
 An example of what is good and true. 
 
 We each have one soul's worth at stake; 
 
 We each have our own future to make; 
 
 Thus it stands us in hand to do our best. 
 
 Then, and then only, let the matter rest. 
 
 This is important, as time will show. 
 
 When from the body you're called to go; 
 
 And if each will follow this rule that is given, 
 
 'Twill aid you on earth and fit you for heaven. 
 
 But some there are, as v/ell we know, 
 
 Too weak to exert themselves to throw 
 
 Aside the tempter; and they're as a boat 
 
 Adrift at sea, and can only float; 
 
 Unless we reach forth a hand to save 
 
 Such a one from a watery grave; 
 
 Then our duty it is to extend the hand, 
 
 Brave the raging waters and help them land. 
 
 We hope you grasp the meaning 
 
 Of this lesson, rudely given; 
 
 Practice and preaching, both are good. 
 
 But 'tis practice that takes you to heaven. 
 
Inspirational Poems 37 
 
 UNCHAINED LICENSE 
 
 Many a home in this broad land 
 Has felt the rum fiend's power; 
 
 Many a hope been blasted 
 In one short, little hour. 
 
 And why has sorrow entered 
 Homes which were fair to see? 
 
 We ask you this in earnest; 
 Take the babe upon the knee, 
 
 And, for every ill it suffers, 
 
 The remedy you prescribe 
 Is one of a deadly poison; 
 
 Better the child had died. 
 
 An appetite thus created. 
 
 Enslaves one for all time, 
 And e'en is carried with it. 
 
 To this life's sunny clime. 
 
 To eradicate this evil great, 
 The root must be laid bare; 
 
 Would you loose a tiger in your home 
 Or strike him in his lair? 
 
 Would you caress and pet him. 
 
 Or try to keep away 
 From his clutches, which are deadly, 
 
 When you know he'll claim his prey? 
 
 No, no, indeed; 'twere folly thus 
 To turn the demon free; 
 What can we gain by loosing 
 Its chains, for you and me? 
 
 We can see the evil done; 
 
 It stalks abroad by day. 
 It lurks in every corner, 
 
 Watching for its prey. 
 
38 Inspirational Poems 
 
 Unchained license! God forbid; 
 
 Let us rise above its power 
 And weld its chains the tighter, 
 
 Beginning with this hour. 
 
 Let us teach our lisping babes, 
 
 The viper e'er to shun, 
 Knowing that, in infants' hands. 
 
 Lies the great work to be done. 
 
 And, while we teach the children. 
 Keep our heels upon the throat 
 
 Of the deadly menace offered; 
 This, our message, warning note. 
 
 Chained it has v/rought us evil; 
 
 Unchained, it bringeth more; 
 Its effects are felt for centuries. 
 
 E'en on the "golden shore." 
 
 So, let us strike, in earnest, 
 
 At the root, the branch, the tree; 
 
 That the slaves who are in bondage 
 Forever may be free. 
 Subject chosen by B. Uline, Nappanee, Ind. 
 
 A LESSON 
 
 When along the street you're passing, 
 Note the people whom you meet; 
 
 Some whose faces speak of sorrow, 
 Some who show that life is sweet. 
 
 Some who dress in height of fashion, 
 Some in rags and dirt you'll see; 
 
 Still they all are human beings. 
 Of one family, you'll agree. 
 
 Then let us cheer the heart of sorrow, 
 Let us lift our brother's load; 
 
 As he ever trudges by us 
 
 In the journey o'er life's road. 
 
Inspirational Poems 39 
 
 A word, a smile, a kindly glance, 
 
 Hath power to help another ; 
 For all the world's akin, you know, 
 
 We're sister or we're brother. 
 
 So, give forth good to all the world, 
 And you'll find this saying true; 
 
 "Give to the world the best you have 
 And the best will come back to you." 
 
 We each need help in this old world, 
 And the ones who wear fashion's best. 
 
 May need it more than the beggar in rags, 
 When they're put to the crucial test. 
 
 So, let your light shine and kindle 
 That fire which shall warm a heart; 
 
 And teach them that, of the Father, 
 We are each and all a part. 
 
 Then let us live in accord with good. 
 That spark divine, within each one, 
 
 Which shall bring in all upliftment, 
 Now and when the earth life's done. 
 
 We are atoms; this is true, indeed; 
 
 But drops in the ocean of life; 
 But many atoms, working together. 
 
 Can overthrow discord and strife. 
 
 And many drops drawn from the ocean, 
 Can make the great sea go dry; 
 
 Then, can you not see the good we may do, 
 If you and I, brothers, just try? 
 
 A LESSON 
 
 When along life's pathway you're passing, 
 
 And trials assail by the score ; 
 Just cast your eyes toward the haven; 
 
 There is peace when the journey is o'er. 
 
40 Inspirational Poems 
 
 What though the brambles are loaded 
 With thorns for your weary feet; 
 
 The fruit hangs there for the plucking, 
 And surely it is sweet. 
 
 There never were placed the thorns, 
 
 To prod us day after day, 
 Without some recompense was added 
 
 To cheer us on our way. 
 
 And even though the thorns are sharp, 
 
 Causing us pain untold. 
 We still may find some wayside flower, 
 
 With a heart of purest gold. 
 
 No trial meted, though most severe. 
 But what may prove of worth; 
 
 It is the round by which we climb 
 Tov/ard heaven from this earth. 
 
 Were life all smiles, all roses fair, 
 
 We would not care to try 
 For a better place awaiting us, 
 
 A happy home on high. 
 
 Were there no trials to be met 
 
 In this mortal life of ours; 
 If no thorns grew side by side 
 
 With the fairest, sweetest flowers, 
 
 Then half the joy which awaits us, 
 At the close of this life's short day, 
 
 Would "fold its tent, like an Arab, 
 And silently steal away." 
 
 Throughout our lives is scattered 
 Much of bliss^ as well as woe; 
 
 The latter will aid us always 
 
 To ascend the heights, you know. 
 
 A sort of spur to urge us on 
 Where better things await; 
 
 The friends we've loved and longed for, 
 Are just inside of Heaven's gate. 
 
Inspirational Poems 41 
 
 What is Heaven? a condition 
 
 Which each mortal may attain, 
 If he'll profit by the lessons 
 
 Given through the teacher, Pain. 
 
 THE SEQUOIAS 
 
 (REDWOODS) 
 
 Guardians of the national forests, 
 
 Sentinels of old are they; 
 Could they tell their tale of interest, 
 
 Spell-bound you would be today. 
 
 Redmen roamed these forests o'er, 
 Gaining spoils from earth and air; 
 
 And these silent trees bore witness. 
 To those trophies, rich and rare. 
 
 The bear, the deer and buffalo. 
 Were hunted, speared and died. 
 
 While these monarchs of the forest 
 Guarded that which is our pride. 
 
 'Tho the red man's blood was savage, 
 Still he held in wholesome awe 
 
 The giants towering o'er him; 
 Nor molested what he saw. 
 
 Then later on there came a race, 
 To tread this Western shore. 
 
 Who, for vandalism noted. 
 
 Overreached them more and more. 
 
 Laying low the grand old monarchs, 
 Shooting deer and buffalo. 
 
 Until now, few of the species 
 Are left here their kind to show. 
 
42 Inspirational Poems 
 
 Then the nation, which was founded, 
 Many long, long years ago; 
 
 Took the steps in which protection 
 Should be given from the foe. 
 
 So, today the one's remaining, 
 (Stalwart giants of the Past), 
 
 Awe inspiring, grand and wondrous, 
 Of Sequoias, are the last. 
 
 Representing growth of ages. 
 
 Where strange people lived and died, 
 
 Giving way to other peoples; 
 
 Still they stand there side by side. 
 
 Relic of the by-gone ages. 
 
 Who could each a tale unfold ; 
 
 Were we capable of grasping. 
 
 Their great language as 'twas told. 
 
 July 6th, 191S. 
 
 General Grant National Park, California. 
 
 CALIFORNIA 
 
 Grand old state of California! 
 
 Looking east or looking west, 
 We have yet to find a country 
 
 That, with you, can stand the test. 
 
 We have seen the grand Pacific, 
 Where it laps your Western shore, 
 
 Making all of coast line rugged. 
 As it washes more and more. 
 
 We have seen the glorious Southland, 
 Have enjoyed the scented breeze, 
 
 Through the open windows wafted. 
 From the groves of orange trees. 
 
Inspirational Poems 43 
 
 We have gazed in admiration 
 
 At the grand magnolia fair, 
 At the golden fruit of orange, 
 
 And the lemon, blooming there. 
 
 We have visited your missions; 
 
 (Standing, as the years pass on), 
 Monuments to grand old padres. 
 
 Speaking sacrifice and song. 
 
 Telling, also, of the Indians; 
 
 (Then a savage, uncouth class). 
 Who were taught at these old missions; 
 
 All now memories of the past. 
 
 We have seen in inland valleys, 
 
 Waving fields of golden grain; 
 And, again, the green alfalfa. 
 
 And the fig tree shaded lane. 
 
 Then again the northern gold fields, 
 Where was mined the shining ore; 
 
 Oh! we know you, California, 
 And we love you more and more. 
 
 But your mountains are our hobby; 
 
 Your Sierras, grand and tall, 
 Are, to us, an inspiration 
 
 From the Father of us all. 
 
 From the highest snow capped peaks, 
 
 To your ever rugged shore, 
 We pledge anew our loyalty. 
 
 For we love you more and more. 
 
 Home of fruits, of flowers, of birds, 
 
 Of the redwood and the pine. 
 We admire you California, 
 
 We are kneeling at your shrine. 
 July 18th, 1918. 
 
44 Inspirational Poems 
 
 THE LAND I LOVE BEST 
 
 You may prate of California, 
 And of the "Golden West," 
 
 But let me tell you of a country, 
 That to me still seems the best. 
 
 It is where the Mississippi 
 
 Winds its glorious length along; 
 
 Where you find the tints of Autumn, 
 That are heralded in song. 
 
 Through the valley which is fertile, 
 
 Lazily it wends its way; 
 And m its depths are oft reflected 
 
 Visions of a cloudless day. 
 
 Where the leafy branches tinted 
 
 By a Master Artist's hand, 
 Can be seen in great profusion. 
 
 All up and down our land. 
 
 Showing that Jack Frost has settled, 
 And his works you're free to view. 
 
 As an artist, he has no equal. 
 In any land we've traveled thru. 
 
 Once a year he calls upon us, 
 
 Opens up his studio grand. 
 For inspection and approval; 
 
 For his work he knows will stand. 
 
 It is then that we may garner 
 
 Fruit, grain and nuts at our sweet will; 
 Then it is we make the cider. 
 
 And the bins with apples fill. 
 
 Then he leaves us and old Winter, 
 With his white and hoary head, 
 
 Pays us one of his great visits; 
 Paints our cheeks and noses red. 
 
Inspirational Poems 45 
 
 And gives a snow white covering 
 To the landscape once so bright; 
 
 And leaves the winding river, 
 A grand and glorious sight. 
 
 Boys and girls, all dressed for skating, 
 
 Have assembled for some fun. 
 And the sport begins in earnest. 
 
 Lasting till the day is done. 
 
 Then we gather round the fireside, 
 
 Each some story has to tell; 
 And the pop-corn, nuts and apples. 
 
 Help to pass the time as v/ell. 
 
 Oh! those lengthy Winter evenings, 
 
 When together we have met. 
 Father, mother, sister, brother, 
 
 Are the best of any yet. 
 
 Beautiful the trees in winter. 
 
 While he holds his icy thrall, 
 Covering the naked branches 
 
 With the flakes, so white and small. 
 
 Then, old Winter has to leave us; 
 
 And the spring time's ushered in, 
 With its leaves and apple blossoms. 
 
 And the wild flowers once again. 
 
 Mother Nature does her best now, 
 
 Everything is spick and span; 
 The boats sail down the river. 
 
 For the ice is gone again. 
 
 Now the Summer comes upon us; 
 
 But a shower can oft remove 
 The discomfort one is feeling, 
 
 Or, at least, discomfort soothe. 
 
 Then we hie us to the marshes, 
 
 Where the whortleberries grow; 
 Hanging thick upon the bushes. 
 
 With the fronded ferns below. 
 
46 Inspirational Poems 
 
 And still the boats are sailing 
 
 Adown the river grand ; 
 The dear old Mississippi, 
 
 That travels through our land. 
 
 Flowers and birds there are to greet us, 
 In this free land of the East; 
 
 And the ever changing seasons 
 Are, to us, continual feast. 
 
 And now again we're waiting 
 For our Autumn Artist friend; 
 
 There's no monotony in waiting, 
 For there's changing without end. 
 
 And we've no need to travel. 
 
 For the change will come in time, 
 
 For there is always something. 
 In this grand and glorious clime. 
 
 We do not ask the question, 
 Is it Winter, Summer, Spring? 
 
 Each one proclaims his coming 
 While saying not a thing. 
 
 And so, we're proud and justly so, 
 
 Of our beauties of the East; 
 For our dear "Father of waters" 
 Alone is as great as a feast. 
 September 7th, 1918. 
 
 THE EASTLAND 
 
 I have visited the Eastland, 
 
 Seen the wildflowers in the wood; 
 
 Picked the wintergreens red berries. 
 And childlike pronounced them good. 
 
 I have seen old Mother Nature 
 Donning her fresh gown of green; 
 
 And, for beauty and for freshness, 
 Handsomer garb was never seen. 
 
Inspirational Poems 47 
 
 I have seen the fruit trees covered 
 With the blossoms pink and white, 
 
 And the dandelion yellow 
 In the grass; a pretty sight. 
 
 Then I'd get my book and saunter 
 
 To my own loved apple tree, 
 There to read beneath its branches, 
 
 While the petals showered on me. 
 
 This is Springtime in the Eastland; 
 
 But when Summertime comes on, 
 I have sweltered without cover 
 
 From the daricness to the dawn. 
 
 I have visited the marshes 
 
 Where the whortleberries grow, 
 Where the fronded ferns about them 
 
 Their beauteous splendor show. 
 
 And have sauntered to the garden 
 With trusty spade and hoe again, 
 
 Until all the weeds and "pursley" 
 By those helpful friends were slain. 
 
 I have gathered, in the Autumn, 
 Everything from squash to beet ; 
 
 And, believe me, there is plenty, 
 But 'tis anything but sweet. 
 
 Tho, when the Autumn lingers 
 
 Until your harvesting is done, 
 You may steal a little respite 
 
 And get out and have some fun. 
 
 Then I hie me to the woodland. 
 Where the scene is grand, indeed; 
 
 Reds and yellows, greens and browns, 
 I enjoy, the while I read. 
 
 And, believe me, it is splendid, 
 Nothing like the Fall and Spring 
 
 In the Eastland, I can tell you; 
 Though your praises you may sing. 
 
48 Inspirational Poems 
 
 I have donned my skates in Winter, 
 And to the winding river sped, 
 
 That enjoyment is not lasting, 
 Like the tints of green and red. 
 
 I have visited the clothesline 
 
 With the basket filled with clothes; 
 
 I have tried in vain to hang them, 
 Ere my feet and fingers froze. 
 
 Then, again, I've shovelled sidewalks, 
 Porches, paths; and carried coal 
 
 From the woodshed for the burner; 
 And cold fingers were the toll. 
 
 But the popcorn and the apples, 
 Were the one bright, sunny spot; 
 
 Thus, I think the winter cold 
 Beats the good old summer, hot. 
 
 But when it comes to the Springtime 
 
 Or the Falltime of the year, 
 I can say, "it can't be beaten"; 
 And I say it without fear. 
 September 10th, 1918. 
 
 ANOTHER 
 
 Yes, dear, are the native homes of all; 
 
 Wherever they are found; 
 But give mc a home up higher. 
 
 Where no tornadoes or earthquakes abound 
 
 Dearer and brighter, by far, my home, 
 Though you travel East or West; 
 
 So all that remains for us to do, 
 Is to praise what each loves best. 
 
 And so, I'll sing the praises 
 
 Of this land of the living soul. 
 Where flowers grow in perfection; 
 
 Where the sea of harmony rolls. 
 
Inspirational Poems 49 
 
 And is washing, ever washing, 
 
 Discord from the earth away, 
 So that East and West may be grander, 
 
 At a not far distant day. 
 
 And North and South be united, 
 In brotherhood great and grand; 
 
 Where love cements together 
 The people of every land. 
 September 8th, 1918. 
 
 THE SOURCE 
 
 Why trouble yourself to praise it, 
 
 The country of your choice? 
 Just be happy in the knowledge, 
 
 And rejoice, rejoice, rejoice. 
 
 For every beauty God hath given. 
 
 Every Autumn tint and song. 
 Every snowflake on the hedges. 
 
 To that Power must e'er belong. 
 
 Every blossom of the wild flov»'er. 
 
 And all others ever known. 
 Every fruit from grape to orange, 
 
 Every pebble, shell and stone, — 
 
 Every mountain, every valley. 
 
 Every rock and every stream. 
 Every bird song that is warbled. 
 
 Has its source in the Supreme. 
 
 Every sea and every river. 
 
 All the inland, every shore. 
 Is the work of this great Sculptor; 
 
 His the praises, evermore. 
 
 So here's to the beauties abounding. 
 
 Whether in East or in West, 
 And here's to their Author, who's given 
 
 The beauties that we love best. 
 September 16th, 1918. 
 
50 Inspirational Poems 
 
 THANKSGIVING 
 
 Years agone in a New England village, 
 The people had gathered one morn, 
 
 To give praise to the Lord, who'd given 
 Such a harvest of Indian corn. 
 
 These olden people of the Mayflower, 
 Were not like many on earth to-day; 
 
 They were simple folk, and plainly dressed, 
 But served their God in old fashioned way. 
 
 They were glad to leave Old England, 
 Where tyranny held them in sway. 
 
 And find a home in a newer land, 
 Where they had the right to pray. 
 
 And to worship God as they saw fit; 
 
 And so today we see them here, 
 Offering thanks to the Power above. 
 
 For the harvest of the year. 
 
 When these people sailed fi-om Old England, 
 They broke loose, to a certain extent, 
 
 From the reign of religious bondage; 
 And this move from heaven was sent. 
 
 They suffered trials, to be sure, 
 But a thankful people were they, 
 
 As together assembled all classes 
 On that first Thanksgiving Day. ■ 
 
 With grateful hearts they offered up 
 
 Their mead of praise to One 
 Who had given such rich returns to them. 
 
 For the labor they had done. 
 
 From that day on, adown the years. 
 Have we kept Thanksgiving Day; 
 
 But have we always kept it 
 
 With as thankful hearts as they? 
 
Inspirational Poems 51 
 
 Do we understand the true meaning, 
 Of pouring out thanks, full and free; 
 
 Or do we grasp whate'er we can, 
 And expect greater harvests to see? 
 
 Let us realize our manifold blessings, 
 And with hearts filled full to the brim, 
 
 Let us give of that fullness to others 
 In loving remembrance of Him. 
 
 Who helped all, the poor and the needy. 
 
 None came to Him in vain; 
 He ever asked for good to all, 
 
 E'en when suffering untold pain. 
 
 And let us emulate that worth. 
 
 Which shone from that soul so true. 
 Who asked, for those who'd wronged Him, 
 "Father forgive, they know not what they do." 
 Subject chosen by M. E. McAntire, Southwick, Idaho. 
 
 A THANKSGIVING STORY 
 
 We wish to give this morning, 
 
 A story to you in rhyme; 
 And in giving will depict 
 
 Some happenings at the present time. 
 
 In all of the largest cities, 
 
 To which your land lays claim, 
 Are many poor and needy ones ; 
 
 Thousands whom we can't name. 
 
 In the tenement district of one, 
 On the third floor, bare and cold. 
 
 Was a back room with one window ; 
 
 Here dwelt a child and two women, one old, 
 
52 Inspirational Poems 
 
 The little child, a girl of three, 
 
 With curh of gold and eyes of blue, 
 
 Was asking of the elder woman, 
 "Give me b'ed gamma, pease do! 
 
 Ise hungry, and I wants my mamma; 
 
 See's don to find papa, I dess, 
 An' soon 'ey'll tum to b'ing us b'ed, 
 
 For a loves ere little Bess." 
 
 Thus the little maiden spoke. 
 
 And a tear dimmed the woman's eye; 
 
 For well she knew the conditions; 
 And could not repress a sigh. 
 
 The father was killed while crossing 
 
 A crowded downtown street; 
 And the mother, by use of the needle, 
 
 Was striving expenses to meet. 
 
 She had gone to deliver some sewing. 
 To a lady who'd land and gold; 
 
 She thought, with the money thus coming, 
 To add warmth to the room so cold. 
 
 And also to buy some food to last 
 Until she could earn more pay ; 
 
 And so, she lifted the knocker 
 On this raw Thanksgiving Day. 
 
 A servant met her at the door. 
 And asked whom she would see. 
 
 "I have a package for the lady 
 Who is living here," said she. 
 
 "Wait here," he said, and giving 
 
 A seat in the hall so grand, 
 He sought the lady of the house. 
 
 And awaited her command. 
 
 "Go! send the beggar forth," she said, 
 "This is the word I give you; 
 
 This day was set aside for prayer; 
 Now mark my words, your duty do." 
 
Inspirational Poems 53 
 
 Back he went to the hall, where sat 
 
 The woman so sad and forlorn, 
 And giving her the message rude, 
 
 He felt his heart strings torn. 
 
 For she clasped her hands together, 
 
 And raised her eyes to heaven, 
 "Oh! tell me what to do," she cried, 
 
 "Can no help to me be given?" 
 
 There was a silken curtain moved, 
 And forth there stepped a gnome, 
 
 Who spoke in childish accents: 
 "This is my grandmas' home. 
 
 And, lady dear I'll help you. 
 
 If you'll please not to cry; 
 I'll give you my best dolly. 
 
 And a piece of cake and pie." 
 
 "Oh! bless you dear, it is not that, 
 
 Will help me bear my load ; 
 But if you'd come, I'd show you. 
 
 Where poverty has its abode." 
 
 "Just wait a minute; papa'll go 
 
 And take me to your home; 
 Then we will know what makes you cry, 
 
 And why you're here alone. 
 
 What have you in the package ; 
 
 Were you going to leave it here? 
 "This is sewing for your mamma; 
 
 And I wanted the pay, my dear." 
 
 "My mamma's gone, away up high. 
 Where the blessed angels stay. 
 
 And that's my grandma that lives here; 
 We came for Thanksgiving Day." 
 
 "Now I'll go and find my papa. 
 
 And then all of us three. 
 Will get into our big new car. 
 
 And your home, we'll go and see." 
 
54 Inspirational Poems 
 
 "Now, we're ready; this is papa, 
 
 And if you'll show the way, 
 You'll be there in a jiffy; 
 
 Papa does the things I say." 
 
 Thus the maiden rattled on, 
 And the father, speaking low, 
 
 "Sunshine tells me you've a package 
 For my mother; is this so?" 
 
 "Oh yes, indeed! my baby's starving. 
 
 And my mother, too, so dear; 
 I had hoped to buy some bread 
 
 And some fuel, but I fear 
 
 "I have failed; and now I only 
 
 Can rely on One above; 
 Here's the place, sir, up three flights. 
 
 There you'll find the one's I love." 
 
 "Open the door and walk right in; 
 
 Mother, dear, this is a son you know, 
 Of the lady, who lives at the 'Heights,' 
 
 Of Mrs. McPherson, for whom I sew." 
 
 "You see now, my trouble, little one; 
 
 I've not much to offer my guests, 
 But to what there is, you are welcome; 
 
 Come here my darling, my Bess." 
 
 "Ise so hungry, mamma, I wants some b'ed; 
 
 I fot you would bring papa here.' 
 "Where is the papa?" asked the gnome; 
 
 "The papa's in heaven, my dear." 
 
 "I'm very glad to have met you, 
 
 But must go now," the gentleman said; 
 
 "Good-bye little Bess,' 'and taking her hand, 
 "We'll see that you have bread." 
 
 As they closed the door behind them, 
 Little Bess looked up and smiled; 
 
 "See, mamma! what a div me," 
 "Oh! that is gold, my child. 
 
Inspirational Poems 55 
 
 Gold to warm the room again ! 
 
 Gold, with which to buy the bread 
 To keep little Bess from starving; 
 
 Oh! were they not good?" she said. 
 
 "Mamma will hasten right away, 
 And bring something good to eat; 
 
 Grandma and little Bess shall have 
 A loaf of bread and meat." 
 
 She hurried away, and in half an hour, 
 
 Again there stood at the door, 
 The guest of the early morning, 
 
 And great was the load that he bore. 
 
 "Now, help yourself, my good woman, 
 
 While I light the fire for you; 
 And we'll warm up the room at once; 
 
 This sort of condition won't do." 
 
 Thus, when the mother returned, 
 
 A surprise awaited her there; 
 A goodly meal was spread upon 
 
 The table so often bare. 
 
 The guest had gone; but gratitude 
 
 Was in two hearts to stay; 
 And earnest thanks were offered up 
 
 On that Thanksgiving Day. 
 
 But what of the lady mother. 
 
 Who spent the time in prayer? 
 Who'd sent the message rude to one, 
 
 Who had burdens enough to bear? 
 
 Her prayers no response had gained. 
 For they'd gone to the wrong address; 
 
 The messengers were needed elsewhere, 
 They had gone to such as Bess. 
 
 Now, I would show you once again. 
 How everything works out for good; 
 
 The father, from that other shore. 
 Had seen all, and understood. 
 
56 Inspirational Poems 
 
 He enlisted all whom he could, 
 
 To help those to him so dear; 
 And when a heart was sorely tried 
 
 By the rudeness; they came near, 
 
 'Twas then her heart had opened 
 
 To ask what could be given; 
 And immediately the answer came, 
 
 In God's own way from heaven. 
 
 So, learn (when your needs are greatest 
 And you've done the best you know), 
 
 To humble yourself in earnest; 
 To your loving Father, go. 
 
 'Tis at times like this, He can hear you. 
 When you're humbled to the dust; 
 
 'Tis only at times like this, you see. 
 That you, your loving Father trust. 
 
 The call that was made that morning, 
 
 Resulted in good all around; 
 For, the woman who sent the rude message, 
 
 Through it, a better way found. 
 
 And as time wore on, she learned many things; 
 
 She learned more about how to pray, 
 And a change of heart resulted. 
 
 From that call Thanksgiving Day. 
 October, 1911. 
 
 A TRUE STORY 
 
 We come this Thanksgiving Day to tell 
 A true story to the children all ; 
 
 Of how "once upon a time" there came 
 A fairy, at a poor child's call. 
 
 This poor little child had no home, 
 He knew not where to lay his head; 
 
 He was a little orphan, cast upon 
 The merciless world to earn his bread. 
 
Inspirational Poems 57 
 
 He wanted to know, and earnestly asked, ■ 
 
 Why 'twas he had no warm bed, 
 When other Httle boys, no better than he, 
 
 Were so warmly clothed and fed. 
 
 He felt like asking these questions. 
 As a lady reached forth her hand 
 
 Offering him a new silver quarter. 
 
 Saying, "I'll take a paper, my little man." 
 
 'Oh! lady you must be a fairy, I know, 
 
 And would you tell me, please, 
 Where other little children find their homes, 
 
 While I almost starve and freeze?" 
 
 "Where are your father and mother, 
 Little one?" the kind fairy said; 
 
 "I never had none, I guess, lady, 
 If I did they must now be dead." 
 
 "Where do you live, my dear child?" 
 "Oh! I have no home but a box. 
 
 And a good kind dog sleeps with me, 
 And the boys throw at him rocks." 
 
 "But, lady, we two are orphans, I guess; 
 
 And nobody cares if we're cold or warm; 
 Whether we're sheltered from the blast, 
 
 Or into our box beats the storm." 
 
 "But I'm thankful I've got that dog, 
 For I'd freeze if it wasn't for him. 
 
 "Oh! don't cry lady," said the child. 
 As her eyes, with tears, grew dim. 
 
 "Come with me; what is your name?" 
 "Don't know; guess it must be Jim, 
 
 For everybody calls me that; 
 And I call my dog's name, Tim." 
 
 "Well, come with me; where is your dog?" 
 "He is hunting something to eat; 
 
 You know in the daytime we go, 
 Both of us, out on the street." 
 
58 Inspirational Poems 
 
 "Then, at night, we both go back there, 
 To the box that I told you of. 
 
 And we're both so glad and thankful. 
 That there's someone we can love." 
 
 "Oh! what a pitiful story you tell me; 
 
 I never knew the existence before 
 Of conditions like this, I assure you; 
 
 Come Vv^ith me, your dark days are o'er." 
 
 "But lady, I can't leave Tim, my dog, 
 For he stuck right by me, you know, 
 
 Else I would have frozen to death; 
 And so, lady, I think I can't go. 
 
 "Tim would think I'd deserted him, 
 When he had such faith, you see. 
 
 And I couldn't ever do that, j^ou know. 
 For it's worse for him than for me." 
 
 "What faithfulness! what a lesson given, 
 Through this waif, before me here? 
 
 What a thankful heart there dwelleth, 
 'Mid surroundings dark and drear." 
 
 "One thing I know and realize, 
 
 That a lesson I've learned this day; 
 
 And something, above and beyond me. 
 Sent me out on the street this way." 
 
 "We will find your dog, my good boy, 
 And you both shall have a home; 
 
 One from which you'll neither care 
 As wanderers forth to roam." 
 
 "I was sent as your good fairy, 
 
 (To attend to your needs this day), 
 
 By the Father above who loveth all; 
 And v/ith me forever you'll stay." 
 
 That boy grew to manhood beneath the roof 
 
 Which shelter gave that day; 
 And, later, we see him working to pave, 
 
 For the poor, a better way. 
 
Inspirational Poems 59 
 
 A fairy the lady had proved to be, 
 
 For, from a waif untaught and alone, 
 
 He grew to be a power for good ; 
 
 And we're reaping the seed that he's sown. 
 
 A CHRISTMAS STORY 
 
 "Come with me this Christmas morn. 
 
 And I'll lead you far away 
 To a quarter of the city, 
 
 Where grim want and squalor stay." 
 
 "We will board this car that's coming. 
 And get off at Houston street. 
 
 Then a block or two will take us 
 Poverty and rags to meet." 
 
 "Here we are at the crossing; 
 
 Now, but a few steps more. 
 And you will feel such a heart ache 
 
 As you never have felt before." 
 
 "Up this flight of rickety stairs. 
 
 Follow me now, for it's rather dark; 
 
 Step on to this landing; now, up another, 
 Here we are at the door; but hark! 
 
 "Oh! Father God, do hear our prayer," 
 We heard in accents soft and low; 
 
 "One gift, we ask that you will grant. 
 Let mamma live, we love her so.' 
 
 "Brother and I have tried so hard 
 To sell our papers so we could buy 
 
 The things she needed to make her well ; 
 Please God, don't let her die. 
 
 "Brother said if I would ask. 
 
 You would help us all you could; 
 
 For, he said, you gave to others, 
 And he knew that you were good.' 
 
60 Inspirational Poems 
 
 "Old Santa comes and fills the stockings 
 Of the rich on Christmas Eve, 
 
 But we're up too many stairs, 
 And the chimney's full of leaves," 
 
 "Mamma says; and so, of course, 
 He couldn't find us way up here; 
 
 But it was all so different 
 
 Before you took our Papa dear." 
 
 "But, Father God, ive ask not toys. 
 
 My dear brother and I; 
 We ask for mamma, and we know 
 
 That you won't let her die." 
 
 "She's starving now for food, because 
 She would not eat, you see, 
 
 When there was only a piece of bread 
 To divide among us three" 
 
 We waited to hear no more, just then. 
 But left with tear-dimmed eyes, 
 
 And hastened to a downtown store 
 Where we could purchase supplies. 
 
 Our errand had taken us far; 
 
 And we'd not accomplished its end, 
 For I had expected to go inside; 
 
 And show poverty to my friend. 
 
 But it had otherwise been ordained. 
 And we were to answer the prayer 
 
 That we had heard, while waiting 
 On the rickety stair case there. 
 
 A physician was summoned to attend 
 The mother, starving and sick; 
 
 While we two undertook the role 
 Which really belonged to St. Nick. 
 
 'Tis needless to say that an auto truck, 
 Carried us back to the stair; 
 
 'Twas filled to o'erflowing with bundles; 
 God's answer to one little prayer. 
 
Inspirational Poems 61 
 
 When all was left at the door for them, 
 We rapped; then stepped to one side; 
 
 Then what we saw was want, indeed. 
 And we, strong men, both cried. 
 
 The door was opened by childish hands, 
 And, beyond in the room we saw, 
 
 A woman, pale and thin from want, 
 Lying ill on a bed of straw. 
 
 The children themselves were in rags, 
 
 And cold and raw was the day. 
 They shivered as they stood there; 
 
 No fire in the room had they. 
 
 At sight of the things, they shouted; 
 
 Then they thought of the morning prayer, 
 And kneeling down beside them. 
 
 They thanked God then and there. 
 
 Thanked Him for the answer to it, 
 Which had come so soon to them; 
 
 They could now help their dear mamma; 
 Then both of them said, "Amen." 
 
 We then stepped forth into the light, 
 And before an hour had passed. 
 
 All had been made comfortable; 
 And a Christmas cheer was cast 
 
 Into one small room so bare and cold, 
 
 And when we left those three, 
 There was warmth and food and clothing, 
 
 There was comfort; thus you see 
 
 "God works in a mysterious way"; 
 
 When you think you've reached the end, 
 He raises up some benefactor. 
 
 Who serves you as a friend. 
 
62 Inspirational Poems 
 
 SEQUEL 
 
 We come to give you a sequel, 
 To the lesson which came before; 
 
 Showing you what kind of prayer, 
 Reaches out to heavenly shore. 
 
 Also showing that each human being 
 Is a child of this Higher Power; 
 
 That we are messengers to do His will, 
 When arrives the opportune hour. 
 
 Who put the idea into our minds, 
 To go to that place so cold and bare? 
 
 Why did we go at that certain time, 
 As the child began her prayer? 
 
 Friends of earth, I'll tell you why; 
 
 A little child with faith and love, 
 Had reached out to the All Father, 
 
 And asked help from above. 
 
 The prayer had not yet been given voice, 
 But 'twas felt by a messenger there. 
 
 And impressed on two earthly agents 
 To visit the tenement bare. 
 
 Another had also impressed the child. 
 To give voice at once to the prayer ; 
 
 And this was when we were standing. 
 At the top of the rickety stair. 
 
 Now friends, think you He did not hear, 
 Can you see no wisdom there? 
 
 When two elements were brought together, 
 In order that one should bear 
 
 The necessities of life into a home, 
 Where the mother lay starving and ill. 
 
 Oh shame upon the one who doubts. 
 That such is not the Father's will! 
 
Inspirational Poems 63 
 
 But all do not let the messengers in, 
 When they come from the Father above; 
 
 And our work is to prepare you, 
 That you may feel His love 
 
 And open the door for the messenger, 
 And list to the message thus sent. 
 
 As we did that Christmas morning, 
 When we to the tenement went. 
 
 Now I would say to all who ask 
 For help from that Power above, 
 
 Come, as came that little child. 
 In faith, in trust, in love. 
 
 A CHRISTMAS STORY 
 
 Wrapped in the rags of poverty, 
 And exposed to the bitter cold, 
 
 A little girl was asking alms; 
 A child not ten years old. 
 
 'Twas Christmas day, supposed to be 
 Anniversary of the Nazarene's birth; 
 
 A day when joy and gladness 
 Should reign o'er all the earth. 
 
 People v/ere passing to and fro, 
 Some in apparel costly and fine, 
 
 But no one noticed the little girl 
 Who was scarcely more than nine. 
 
 She was gazing into a window, laden 
 With everything good to eat, 
 
 And wishing for one more penny ; 
 
 When an officer paused on the street. 
 
 "WTiat business have you to be begging? 
 
 I arrest you in the name of the law." 
 "Oh! please sir, I am so hungry, 
 
 I never asked for the goodies I saw." 
 
64 Inspirational Poems 
 
 "Never mind, you street Arab, I'll take you, 
 Where you'll for once have a feed; 
 
 Your rags won't save you this time. 
 You'll now to police court proceed." 
 
 "What charge?" was asked the officer; 
 
 " 'Tis vagrancy," came the harsh reply. 
 "Ten days, then, I give you," said the judge, 
 
 "And there's no further use to cry." 
 
 "I didn't do anything," said the child, 
 "But looked in the window to see 
 
 The goodies when I was so hungry; 
 A man gave these pennies to me." 
 
 "And my mother will be so frightened, 
 
 If you keep me shut up here." 
 "What's your mother to us?" said the judge; 
 
 "She's another beggar, I fear." 
 
 "Oh! please sir, what would you do, 
 
 If you had no bread to eat, 
 And no work that you could find. 
 
 Wouldn't you beg on the street?" 
 
 "Isn't it better to ask for help. 
 
 Than to take what to you don't belong? 
 
 In asking for help so much needed 
 
 I am sure that I did nothing wrong." 
 
 "If the blessed Christ Jesus could hear, 
 He'd know that I tell you true, 
 
 When I say, we are hungry and starving, 
 For bread thrown away by you." 
 
 "My mother has worked all she could. 
 Until nothing more could be found, 
 
 And her strength gave out from worry, 
 And she sent me to look around." 
 
 "She thot, on this day, Christ's birthday — 
 That, out of the plenty you see, 
 
 That God had given to some folks 
 There might be a little for me." 
 
Inspirational Poems 65 
 
 "She said that some had kind hearts, 
 And glad indeed would they be, 
 
 To give from their abundance, 
 To a poor little child like me." 
 
 "But I guess she was mistaken, 
 For they've all forgot, you see, 
 
 That 'as ye do to the least of these 
 Ye do it,' Christ said, 'to me'." 
 
 "And I know that from His home above, 
 
 He can see all our actions here; 
 He knows what it means to be starving 
 
 And, at times like this, he comes near. 
 
 "And I know He'll send help unto us, 
 For how could it be else but so? 
 
 For this land is full of Christians, 
 And they follow Christ, you know." 
 
 "And when he sees a poor little child, 
 
 All cold and starving like me. 
 He'll raise up somebody to help them; 
 
 And I know He will; you'll see." 
 
 A gentleman, hearing the child, 
 Was drawn by her sobs to attend 
 
 To the words which were being uttered; 
 And she, thereby, found a friend. 
 
 "Men," he said, "I stand accused; 
 
 My accuser, this little child; 
 I have claimed to be a Christian, 
 
 But, I own that I stand defiled." 
 
 "I've never had a thought before 
 To the lesson this morning given. 
 
 From the lips of this ragged little girl; 
 And I take it as straight from heaven." 
 
 "Such faith, when in direct need, 
 
 I never have seen before; 
 And, in all the churches attended, 
 
 It never has entered the door " 
 
66 Inspirational Poems 
 
 "What shame is ours; what claims we make? 
 
 Kneel down, my friends and let us pray; 
 For the lowly one of Nazareth 
 
 Through this child has spoken to-day." 
 
 "Now I will constitute myself 
 A committee of one, so to speak, 
 
 And make it a point to do some good; 
 The proud shall become the meek." 
 
 "Nov/, what have you to offer me, 
 In a way both substantial and good? 
 
 That this child and her mother may live; 
 They must have clothing and food." 
 
 "Don't be backward; a 'tenth,' you know, 
 
 Was to be given to the poor; 
 And I start the ball to rolling; 
 
 Money, you know, is the only cure." 
 
 "Now, my child will you come with me? 
 
 And we'll see what we can do; 
 I will ever prove a friend in need. 
 
 To the starving poor; I promise you." 
 
 "You have this day awakened here 
 All the Christ there was in me; 
 
 And ni do the work I can, 
 When such need as this I see." 
 
 "Now, my child, I'll hear your story, 
 For you are not what you seem, 
 
 And I'm sure, beneath the surface 
 
 There is more than some would dream." 
 
 "Oh! sir, there's nothing much to tell, 
 
 Only we are so very poor. 
 And mother can't find any work to do 
 
 To keep the wolf from the door." 
 
 "You see, I am a drunkard's child; 
 
 And my mother his outcast wife; 
 wSo, nobody would give work to us; 
 
 Rags don't help much in the strife." 
 
Inspirational Poems 67 
 
 "It's hard to be poor and hungry, 
 
 And have no home nor bed; 
 It seems funny that some have plenty, 
 
 While we are denied even bread." 
 
 "And when I dare to ask for help. 
 
 An offirer takes me away; 
 Oh! let us go at once to mother, 
 
 I have no more, now, to say." 
 
 "I feel so sad, I don't know why, 
 
 I s'pose things might be worse; 
 But I pity the child and mother 
 
 On whom rests a drunkard's curse." 
 
 ■'You don't know where I'm going, do you? 
 
 It's a place that we call home; 
 Then you will understand and know, 
 
 Why the drunkard's child doth roam." 
 
 "Now, into this alley we'll turn, 
 
 And here, through this door, we'll go, 
 
 Into the third stall, to your right; 
 The bed's in the manger, you know." 
 
 "Oh! mother, I've brought help to you; 
 
 We've brought you wine and bread; 
 Why don't you speak to your Annie? 
 
 Oh! sir, she's cold and dead." 
 
 "Oh! mother, dear, what will I do?" 
 The beggar child thus made her moan; 
 
 "Oh! take your Annie home with you. 
 Don't leave her here alone." 
 
 A flood of light broke o'er them. 
 
 And a vision was plainly seen; 
 The mother, in rags no longer. 
 
 But in garments fit for a queen. 
 
 And a voice from out the silence 
 Said, "My child, I have not died; 
 
 I your guardian angel am. 
 And I'll be by your side." 
 
68 Inspirational Poems 
 
 "A work on earth awaits you, dear, 
 
 Ere you can come to me, 
 And this stranger was brought unto you 
 
 By the Power above, you see." 
 
 "Raised up at a time when needed most, 
 And he, as a friend, will prove true; 
 
 You'll work hand in hand together, 
 A work of great good to do." 
 
 "Seek out the poor and the lowly. 
 Extend always the helping hand. 
 
 Lead them upward to the light 
 That shines from the Summerland." 
 
 'This has all been brought about 
 That you both may help receive 
 
 And spread the gospel of good news, 
 That all may worth achieve." 
 
 "Go into the slums, the police courts. 
 And a way will be shown to you; 
 
 For, from a full heart, your lips will speak, 
 And great good you are to do." 
 
 "Now, friend, to you I trust my child, 
 And may you ne'er from duty swerve; 
 
 You are chosen as one in the vineyard. 
 For the teachings of Christ you observe." 
 
 "Adieu to you both; and remember, 
 
 Angels will aid you to bear 
 The curses and sneers cast upon you, 
 
 By those who speak out unaware." 
 
 The vision was gone and a silence, 
 
 For a moment, rested there; 
 The beggar child and the stranger, 
 
 Both knelt in silent prayer. 
 
 On the dirt floor of that stable, 
 
 With no human eye to view; 
 An offering great ascended 
 
 To the Father who is true. 
 
Inspirational Poems 69 
 
 "And," said the stranger, "as I deal 
 
 With this child left to my care, 
 So may you ever deal with me; 
 
 This, Father, is my prayer." 
 
 "Here, in the presence of the dead, 
 
 I consecrate myself to Thee; 
 And from this day shall ever strive 
 
 A power for good to be." 
 
 "I see great wisdom in this law, 
 
 Which governs all mankind; 
 I know full well that I was sent 
 
 This little child to find." 
 
 This law is ever working, friends, 
 
 For the good of one and all; 
 And, faith will bring an answer 
 
 Though the lowliest may call. 
 October 25th, 1911. 
 
 POEMS PROPHETIC: A MESSAGE 
 
 (To M.) 
 
 In one of your letters of late, 
 You say he has "softened much 
 
 In his religious opinions"; 
 
 But the cause you assign for such 
 
 Is only in part correct; 
 
 For, by the forces and through. 
 This has been made possible; 
 
 The instrument only is you. 
 
 But, however the case may be, 
 
 Tis neither here nor there; 
 The fact of its accomplishment 
 
 Is the thing for which we care. 
 
70 Inspirational Poems 
 
 And knowing this, that time 
 Worketh changes day by day, 
 
 Eradicating ingrained error 
 
 That you'd think was there to stay, 
 
 And more; that, when this fermentation, 
 Which has now upset the land; 
 
 Shall have ceased its effervescence. 
 Truth will shed its light so grand. 
 
 Not only will it be shining 
 
 On a very "favored few," 
 But its rays will light the masses; 
 
 And the false give way to true. 
 
 And the spreading will outrival 
 All that e'er before has been, 
 
 The millennium advancing, 
 Drives before it greatest sin. 
 
 Thus you see the dawn's approaching; 
 
 Light of truth shall shine afar; 
 And a peace shall settle o'er you. 
 
 Peace that does away with war. 
 
 And so we work, well knowing 
 That naught is done in vain; 
 
 That good is often ushered in 
 Through much of strife and pain. 
 
 It's Truth, in one grand struggle. 
 
 Shaking thus to free 
 Itself from inborn error. 
 
 That has caused this war to be. 
 
 And when — at last is ended 
 
 This massacre of men. 
 Then peace will be established 
 
 And war be at an end. 
 June Sth, 1917. 
 
Inspirational Poems 71 
 
 THE LEGACY 
 
 From out the din of battle, 
 The shell and great guns roar, 
 
 Shall come the peace we fight for; 
 That shall reach from shore to shore. 
 
 Get ye ready for the coming, 
 When to nations of the earth, 
 
 Cometh Peace with mighty pageant; 
 Be ye ready at the birth. 
 
 For the heirs they've left behind them, 
 (Those who fought and bled and died), 
 
 Will inherit blessed freedom. 
 
 Though they've passed to "other side." 
 
 'Tis the legacy they leave you, 
 Dearly bought but nobly won; 
 
 Precious blood was offered for it, 
 Heroes! every mother's son. 
 
 Whether coming back in triumph. 
 
 To a little time remain 
 On this earth so rudely shaken, 
 
 Or are numbered with the slain. 
 
 Both are heroes, and have honored 
 Every home from whence they come; 
 
 And we'll welcome those returning, 
 With a gladsome beat of drum. 
 
 Let us make them feel the gladness, 
 That their homeward coming brings; 
 
 Let them for this once be treated 
 Not as men, but more like kings. 
 
 And within our memory cherish 
 Those who have but gone before; 
 
 Leaving Freedom, blessed Freedom, 
 To the earth for evermore. 
 March, 1918. 
 
72 Inspirational Poems 
 
 HOUSE OF HOHENZOLLERN 
 
 "Watch and wait," let this be your watch- word; 
 
 For there cometh brightest day, 
 When the House of HohenzoUern 
 
 Shall have passed away. 
 
 Then freedom will be granted, 
 
 To all of German birth; 
 And Peace — white dove, will settle 
 
 O'er all mankind on earth. 
 
 The time is fast approaching; 
 
 And those who have died to win 
 This blessing for all countries. 
 
 Have helped to usher it in. 
 
 So remember the homes that are saddened, 
 And cheer them as best you may; 
 
 If no homes gave forth their loved ones, 
 Where v/ould you be to-day? 
 
 Prepare yourselves for the coming 
 Of this grand and glorious day; 
 
 For the House of HohenzoUern, 
 Is fast going to decay. 
 March 18th, 1918. 
 
 POEMS PROPHETIC. 
 
 The war dogs in all their fury. 
 
 Are let loose upon the foe; 
 Who are puzzled, are retreating; 
 
 They know not where to go. 
 
 "Crowd them closer! crowd them closer!" 
 Who is this that gives command 
 
 To our valiant boys who offer 
 All they have for home and land? 
 
Inspirational Poems 11 
 
 See! they falter; now rush onward, 
 And hard press the foreign foe; 
 
 See them! hand to hand they're fighting, 
 And are deahng blow for blow. 
 
 Now it's over; God have mercy! 
 
 See the ground strewn with the slain; 
 German dead, who still were human, 
 
 But have poured their blood in vain. 
 
 Victory? yes, o'erwhelming; 
 
 In the face of fearful odds; 
 And the Kaiser's empire's fallen, 
 
 And no more is linked with God's. 
 
 II. 
 
 Watch the papers! watch the papers! 
 
 Look for news of victory grand ; 
 Great and awful is the carnage. 
 
 But Foch is in command. 
 
 And, striking when advantage 
 
 By his quick eye is seen; 
 Gives courage to his army 
 
 And daunts the "Dutch machine." 
 
 When this great battle's over, 
 
 And the ground is strev;n with dead; 
 
 The Emperor, once so mighty. 
 Finds nowhere to lay his head. 
 
 Just reward all will agree; 
 
 But pitiful indeed his plight; 
 For, ages dark will pass ere he 
 
 Can see the faintest ray of light. 
 
 Brought on him, not by God, 
 But by his greedy self alone; 
 
 Who thought all of position. 
 Of wealth, of power, of throne. 
 
74 Inspirational Poems 
 
 The welcome news will reach you; 
 
 And great your joy will be; 
 Do not forget the homes that gave, 
 
 That you could now be free. 
 April 12th, 1918. 
 
 III. 
 
 Happy, happy, Happy, 
 
 All the world shall be 
 When, from German thralldom 
 
 They at last are free. 
 
 And those who now are fighting, 
 And those who, fighting, passed; 
 
 Shall bequeath that blessed freedom 
 To the world, and it shall last. 
 
 Sound the pibroch; it's approaching; 
 
 Blessed peace for evermore; 
 Dearly bought but richly paid for. 
 
 From sunny France and Belgium's shore. 
 
 Far from home and country dear. 
 There's many a one passed on; 
 
 But grieve not for their passing. 
 To a better land they've gone. 
 
 And if you'll but rejoice friends. 
 Their happiness you'll complete; 
 
 One mortal life they had to give; 
 And this we will repeat. 
 
 Grieve not; for glad indeed were tliey, 
 
 That life was theirs to give 
 On the altar of their country, 
 
 That those they loved might live 
 
 In that blessed peace they paid for, 
 And bestowed upon the world. 
 
 When the Prince of Greed and Terror 
 From his wicked throne was hurled. 
 April ISth, 1918. 
 
Inspirational Poems 75 
 
 IV. 
 
 Be not afraid dear heart; 
 
 For the morrow bringeth joy; 
 The little birds are carolling 
 
 The news without alloy. 
 
 Look up and wait, for coming 
 From the side of allied power, 
 
 Is greater news and better 
 Beginning with this hour. 
 
 They fight for right and justice. 
 The Germans fight for power, 
 
 For supremacy, to govern, 
 And 'tis our darkest hour. 
 
 But the light is coming fast; 
 And day is about to dawn; 
 For we "und Gott' are fighting, 
 For the right, against the wrong. 
 April 17th, 1918. 
 
 V. 
 
 Be calm, the dawn's approaching; 
 
 This is no idle dream; 
 You soon must realize the truth; 
 
 "Things are not always what they seem." 
 
 For you must know the seeming strength 
 
 Of the full German line. 
 Is sorely tried and failing; 
 
 They would now a treaty sign. 
 
 But no! their brutal acts 
 
 Have reached the limit stage. 
 And they are made to still endure, 
 
 For history's written page. 
 
 Worn out and cut to pieces; 
 
 Where is their army now? 
 A hopeless wreck; succumbing, 
 
 They know not why or how. 
 
76 Inspirational Poems 
 
 Goaded on against their will, 
 To fight for greed and power, 
 
 Their back is broken and they yield. 
 Beginning with this hour. 
 April 20th, 1918. 
 
 THE HEALING POWER OF NATURE 
 
 Far famed the grand old forest, 
 As the one whose name it bears; 
 
 Calling, calling to the weary. 
 To lay aside all cares. 
 
 And come and rest, where Nature 
 
 Her blessed boon can bring, 
 Of health and strength and calmness, 
 
 In all and everything. 
 
 There is healing in the wildwood. 
 
 Near the cedar and the pine; 
 There is healing in the songbird, 
 
 'Tis a tonic, more than wine. 
 
 The soughing of the pines can lull you. 
 
 To a quiet few can know, 
 For you're nearer to the Father; 
 
 These are gifts he would bestow. 
 
 And so, when the grand old forest 
 
 Sends forth a call to you. 
 Obey the summons and answer; 
 
 'Tis the least that you can do. 
 
 For the renovation and needed rest 
 
 Will be given in hospital here. 
 Or, rather, in God's free sunlight, 
 
 Where the cedar and pine are near. 
 July 4th, 1918. General Grant National Park, Cal. 
 
Inspirational Poems 77 
 
 ON THE BATTLEFIEDS OF FRANCE 
 
 Over where there's a work to be done, 
 Where mingles the sword and the lance, 
 
 We are spending our time in the main, now; 
 On the battlefields of France. 
 
 Easing the passing of friend or foe, 
 Giving help whene'er there's a chance; 
 
 Such is the mission 'tis ours to bestow 
 On the battlefields of France. 
 
 To soothe the weary and give strength, 
 To vanquish errors, sword and lance, 
 
 That through this turmoil may come peace 
 On the battlefields of France. 
 
 This is what keeps us away at times, 
 'Tis a duty and helps to advance 
 
 The truth and the right which soon will be born 
 On the battlefields of France. 
 May 27th, 1918. 
 
 THE GREAT CROSS OF RED 
 
 (From a vision seen by Mrs. Pack— of red and white 
 birds, the red ones forming a cross.) 
 
 Peace, the white dove, is soaring 
 
 Around the great cross of red. 
 Over the fields of carnage, 
 
 Where lie the thousands dead. 
 
 That Cross of Red! how many now grasp 
 
 The work it has carried on; 
 How many know of the kindness shown 
 
 To those who have passed and gone. 
 
 But the great red cross of mercy now 
 
 Is circled by doves of peace; 
 And ere long shall be heard the sounding 
 From war, of the world's release. 
 July 20th, 1918. 
 
78 Inspirational Poems 
 
 A MESSAGE 
 
 We come, we come from o'er the sea, 
 To tell earth ones that now we're free; 
 
 Free from woe, from war, from strife, 
 In this grand and happy life. 
 
 We know, of you who still are left, 
 That many have lately been bereft 
 
 Of those who gladly gave their all, 
 When our dear country sent the call. 
 
 But, "greater no man hath" to give, 
 Than his earth life that all may live, 
 
 In peace and freedom evermore. 
 
 From sunny France to our dear shore. 
 
 And, in the giving we would say, 
 
 "We have not lost but gained the fray. . 
 
 We have outwitted death, for see! 
 We live, we love, and we are free. 
 
 So shall the land we died to save, 
 Accept this fredom from the grave, 
 
 Knowing that beyond the blue, 
 
 "There is no death"; and all are true. 
 
 Tell the loved, who weep at home, 
 
 That we have not left alone 
 Those who loved, and whom we love, 
 
 And we're near, tho "called above." 
 
 "Called above" is but a phrase; 
 
 The condition that we raise 
 Around us on the mortal plane, 
 
 A heaven or hell for us will gain. 
 
 Thus we can make our heaven here. 
 With those we love and hold so dear; 
 
 For we can make it where we will ; 
 
 Tho' "called above" we're with you still. 
 August 8th, 1918. 
 
Inspirational Poems 79 
 
 THE FOREST 
 
 Would you catch a glimpse of beauty, 
 
 Beauty rare and undefiled? 
 Then visit the forest fastnesses, 
 
 Where all of life is wild. 
 
 Gaze at the lofty trees, whose heads 
 Are rearing upward to the sky; 
 
 And at the rocks, whose volume 
 Speak silent language to passer by. 
 
 Then from the heights above look down, 
 On beauties of lake and stream; 
 
 Whose winding length and crystal falls 
 Are one grand, glorious dream. 
 
 Drink in all this, then answer 
 
 This question if you can; 
 Which of beauties are the rarer, 
 
 Those of God or those of man? 
 
 Then, when to yourself you've given 
 The answer, plain and true, 
 
 Be not chary of your praises. 
 
 Give them ever where they're due. 
 
 Lift your voice in one thanksgiving, 
 As you kneel upon the sod, 
 
 To the Author of all beauty. 
 
 To the unseen Power — your God. 
 July 27th, 1918. 
 
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