It Can Be Done - Joseph Morris
Trouble face to face with you ain't pleasant, but you'll find
That it ain't one-ha'f as big as fust it seemed to be;
Stand up straight and bluff it out! Say, "I gotter a mind
To shake my fist and skeer you off--you don't belong ter me!"
Trouble face to face with you? Though you mayn't feel gay,
Laugh at it as if you wuz--and it'll sneak away!
_Everard Jack Appleton_.
From "The Quiet Courage."
PRESS ON
The spirit that has tamed this continent is the spirit which says,
"Press on." It appeals, not so much to men in the mass, as to
individuals. There is only one way for mankind to go forward. Each
individual must be determined that, come what will, he will never quail
or recede.
Press on! Surmount the rocky steps,
Climb boldly o'er the torrent's arch;
He fails alone who feebly creeps,
He wins who dares the hero's march.
Be thou a hero! Let thy might
Tramp on eternal snows its way,
And through the ebon walls of night
Hew down a passage unto day.
Press on! If once and twice thy feet
Slip back and stumble, harder try;
From him who never dreads to meet
Danger and death they're sure to fly.
To coward ranks the bullet speeds,
While on their breasts who never quail,
Gleams, guardian of chivalric deeds,
Bright courage like a coat of mail.
Press on! If Fortune play thee false
To-day, to-morrow she'll be true;
Whom now she sinks she now exalts,
Taking old gifts and granting new,
The wisdom of the present hour
Makes up the follies past and gone;
To weakness strength succeeds, and power
From frailty springs! Press on, press on!
_Park Benjamin_.
MY CREED
We all have a philosophy of life, whether or not we formulate it. Does
it end in self, or does it include our relations and our duties to our
fellows? General William Booth of the Salvation Army was once asked to
send a Christmas greeting to his forces throughout the world. His life
had been spent in unselfish service; over the cable he sent but one
word--OTHERS.
This is my creed: To do some good,
To bear my ills without complaining,
To press on as a brave man should
For honors that are worth the gaining;
To seek no profits where I may,
By winning them, bring grief to others;
To do some service day by day
In helping on my toiling brothers
This is my creed: To close my eyes
To little faults of those around me;
To strive to be when each day dies
Some better than the morning found me;
To ask for no unearned applause,
To cross no river until I reach it;
To see the merit of the cause
Before I follow those who preach it.
This is my creed: To try to shun
The sloughs in which the foolish wallow;
To lead where I may be the one
Whom weaker men should choose to follow.
To keep my standards always high,
To find my task and always do it;
This is my creed--I wish that I
Could learn to shape my action to it.
_S.E. Kiser._
CO-OPERATION
"We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately,"
Benjamin Franklin is reported to have said at the signing of the
Declaration of Independence.
It ain't the guns nor armament,
Nor funds that they can pay,
But the close co-operation,
That makes them win the day.
It ain't the individual,
Nor the army as a whole,
But the everlasting team-work
Of every bloomin' soul.
_J. Mason Knox_.
THE NOBLE NATURE
There is a deceptive glamour about mere bigness. Quality may accompany
quantity, but it need not. In fact good things are usually done up in
small parcels. "I could eat you at a mouthful," roared a bulky opponent
to the small and sickly Alexander H. Stephens. "If you did," replied
Stephens quietly, "you'd have more brains in your belly than ever you
had in your head."
It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make Man better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere:
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May,
Although it fall and die that night--
It was the plant and flower of Light.
In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures life may perfect be.
_Ben Jonson_.
DAYS OF CHEER
Edison says that genius is two parts inspiration, ninety-eight parts
perspiration. So happiness is two parts circumstance, ninety-eight parts
mental attitude.
"Feelin' fine," he used to say,
Come a clear or cloudy day,
Wave his hand, an' shed a smile,
Keepin' sunny all th' while.
Never let no bugbears grim
Git a wrastle-holt o' him,
Kep' a-smilin' rain or shine,
Tell you he was "feelin' fine!"
"Feelin' fine," he used to say
Wave his hand an' go his way.
Never had no time to lose
So he said, fighting blues.
Had a twinkle in his eye
Always when a-goin' by,
Sort o' smile up into mine,
Tell me he was "feelin' fine!"
"Feelin' fine," he'd allus say,
An' th' sunshine seemed to stay
Close by him, or else he shone
With some sunshine of his own.
Didn't seem no clouds could dim
Any happiness for him,
Allus seemed to have a line
Out f'r gladness--"feelin' fine!"
"Feelin' fine," I've heard him say
Half a dozen times a day,
An' as many times I knowed
He was bearin' up a load.
But he never let no grim
Troubles git much holt on him,
Kep' his spirits jest like wine,
Bubblin' up an' "feelin' fine!"
"Feelin' fine"--I hope he'll stay
All his three score that-a-way,
Lettin' his demeanor be
Sech as you could have or me
Ef we tried, an' went along
Spillin' little drops o' song,
Lettin' rosebuds sort o' twine
O'er th' thorns and "feelin' fine."
_James W. Foley_.
From "Tales of the Trail."
DE SUNFLOWER AIN'T DE DAISY
"Know yourself," said the Greeks. "Be yourself," bade Marcus Aurelius.
"Give yourself," taught the Master. Though the third precept is the
noblest, the first and second are admirable also. The second is violated
on all hands. Yet to be what nature planned us--to develop our own
natural selves--is better than to copy those who are wittier or wiser or
otherwise better endowed than we. Genuineness should always be preferred
to imitation.
De sunflower ain't de daisy, and de melon ain't de rose;
Why is dey all so crazy to be sumfin else dat grows?
Jess stick to de place yo're planted, and do de bes yo knows;
Be de sunflower or de daisy, de melon or de rose.
Don't be what yo ain't, jess yo be what yo is,
If yo am not what yo are den yo is not what you is,
If yo're jess a little tadpole, don't yo try to be de frog;
If yo are de tail, don't yo try to wag de dawg.
Pass de plate if yo can't exhawt and preach;
If yo're jess a little pebble, don't yo try to be de beach;
When a man is what he isn't, den he isn't what he is,
An' as sure as I'm talking, he's a-gwine to get his.
_Anonymous_.
THE DAFFODILS
The poet in lonely mood came suddenly upon a host of daffodils and was
thrilled by their joyous beauty. But delightful as the immediate scene
was, it was by no means the best part of his experience. For long
afterwards, when he least expected it, memory brought back the flowers
to the eye of his spirit, filled his solitary moments with thoughts of
past happiness, and took him once more (so to speak) into the free open
air and the sunshine. Just so for us the memory of happy sights we have
seen comes back again to bring us pleasure.
I wander'd lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:--
A Poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company!
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought;
For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
_William Wordsworth._
[Illustration: FRANK L. STANTON]
A LITTLE THANKFUL SONG
No man is without a reason to be thankful. If he lacks gratitude, the
fault lies at least partly with himself.
For what are we thankful for? For this:
For the breath and the sunlight of life
For the love of the child, and the kiss
On the lips of the mother and wife.
For roses entwining,
For bud and for bloom,
And hopes that are shining
Like stars in the gloom.
For what are we thankful for? For this:
The strength and the patience of toil;
For ever the dreams that are bliss--
The hope of the seed in the soil.
For souls that are whiter
From day unto day;
And lives that are brighter
From going God's way.
For what are we thankful for? For all:
The sunlight--the shadow--the song;
The blossoms may wither and fall,
But the world moves in music along!
For simple, sweet living,
(Tis love that doth teach it)
A heaven forgiving
And faith that can reach it!
_Frank L. Stanton._
From "The Atlanta Constitution."
TWO RAINDROPS
(A FABLE)
An egotist is not only selfish; he is usually ridiculous as well, for he
sets us to wondering as to any possible ground for his exalted opinion
of himself. The real workers do not emphasize their superiority to other
people, do not even emphasize the differences, but are grateful that
they may share in humanity's privilege of rendering service.
Two little raindrops were born in a shower,
And one was so pompously proud of his power,
He got in his head an extravagant notion
He'd hustle right off and swallow the ocean.
A blade of grass that grew by the brook
Called for a drink, but no notice he took
Of such trifling things. He must hurry to be
Not a mere raindrop, but the whole sea.
A stranded ship needed water to float,
But he could not bother to help a boat.
He leaped in the sea with a puff and a blare--
And nobody even knew he was there!
But the other drop as along it went
Found the work to do for which it was sent:
It refreshed the lily that drooped its head,
And bathed the grass that was almost dead.
It got under the ships and helped them along,
And all the while sang a cheerful song.
It worked every step of the way it went,
Bringing joy to others, to itself content.
At last it came to its journey's end,
And welcomed the sea as an old-time friend.
"An ocean," it said, "there could not be
Except for the millions of drops like me."
_Joseph Morris,_
MY WAGE
We may as well aim high as low, ask much as little. The world will not
miss what it gives us, and our reward will largely be governed by our
demands.
I bargained with Life for a penny,
And Life would pay no more,
However I begged at evening
When I counted my scanty store;
For Life is a just employer,
He gives you what you ask,
But once you have set the wages,
Why, you must bear the task.
I worked for a menial's hire,
Only to learn, dismayed,
That any wage I had asked of Life,
Life would have paid.
_Jessie B. Rittenhouse._
From "The Door of Dreams."
THE GIFT
"Trust thyself," says Emerson; "every heart vibrates to that iron
string." This is wholesome and inspiring advice, but there is, as always,
another side to the question. Many a man falls into absurdities and
mistakes because he cannot get outside of himself and look at himself
from other people's eyes. We should cultivate the ability to see
everything, including ourselves, from more than one standpoint.
O wad some Pow'r the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae mony a blunder free us,
And foolish notion;
What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us,
And ev'n devotion!
_Robert Burns._
PROMETHEUS UNBOUND
In the poem from which this excerpt is taken, Prometheus the Titan has
been cruelly tortured for opposing the malignant will of Jupiter. In the
end Prometheus wins a complete outward victory. Better still, by his
steadfastness and high purpose he has won a great inward triumph. The
spirit that has actuated him and the nature of his achievement are
expressed in the following lines.
To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite;
To forgive wrongs darker than death or night;
To defy Power, which seems omnipotent;
To love, and bear; to hope till Hope creates
From its own wreck the thing it contemplates;
Neither to change, nor falter, nor repent;
This, like thy glory, Titan, is to be
Good, great and joyous, beautiful and free;
This is alone Life, Joy, Empire, and Victory.
_Percy Bysshe Shelley._
VICTORY IN DEFEAT
The great, radiant souls of earth--the Davids, the Shakespeares, the
Lincolns--know grief and affliction as well as joy and triumph. But
adversity is never to them mere adversity; it
"Doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange";
and in the crucible of character their suffering itself is transmuted
into song.
Defeat may serve as well as victory
To shake the soul and let the glory out.
When the great oak is straining in the wind,
The boughs drink in new beauty, and the trunk
Sends down a deeper root on the windward side.
Only the soul that knows the mighty grief
Can know the mighty rapture. Sorrows come
To stretch out spaces in the heart for joy.
_Edwin Markham._
From "The Shoes of Happiness, and Other Poems."
THE RICHER MINES
No man is so poor but that he is a stockholder. Yet many a man has no
real riches; his stocks draw dividends in dollars and cents only.
When it comes to buying shares
In the mines of earth,
May I join the millionaires
Who are rich in mirth.
Let me have a heavy stake
In fresh mountain air--
I will promise now to take
All that you can spare.
When you're setting up your claim
In the Mines of Glee,
Don't forget to use my name--
You can count on me.
Nothing better can be won,
Freer from alloy,
Than a bouncing claim in "Con-
Solidated Joy."
You can have your Copper Stocks
Gold and tin and coal--
What I'd have within my box
Has to do with Soul.
_John Kendrick Bangs._
From "Songs of Cheer."
BRAVE LIFE
To be absolutely without physical fear may not be the highest courage;
to shrink and quake, and yet stand at one's post, may be braver still.
So of success. It lies less in the attainment of some external end than
in holding yourself to your purposes and ideals; for out of high loyalty
and effort comes that intangible thing called character, which is no
mere symbol of success, but success itself.
I do not know what I shall find on out beyond the final fight;
I do not know what I shall meet beyond the last barrage of night;
Nor do I care--but this I know--if I but serve within the fold
And play the game--I'll be prepared for all the endless years may hold.
Life is a training camp at best for what may wait beyond the years;
A training camp of toiling days and nights that lean to dreams and tears;
But each may come upon the goal, and build his soul above all Fate
By holding an unbroken faith and taking Courage for a mate.
Is not the fight itself enough that man must look to some behest?
Wherein does Failure miss Success if all engaged but do their best?
Where does the Victor's cry come in for wreath of fame or laureled brow
If one he vanquished fought as well as weaker muscle would allow?
If my opponent in the fray should prove to be a stronger foe--
Not of his making--but because the Destinies ordained it so;
If he should win--and I should lose--although I did my utmost part,
Is my reward the less than his if he should strive with equal heart?
Brave Life, I hold, is something more than driving upward to the peak;
Than smashing madly through the strong, and crashing onward through the
weak;
I hold the man who makes his fight against the raw game's crushing odds
Is braver than his brothers are who hold the favor of the gods.
On by the sky line, faint and vague, in that Far Country all must know,
No laurel crown of fame may wait beyond the sunset's glow;
But life has given me the chance to train and serve within the fold,
To meet the test--and be prepared for all the endless years may hold.
_Grantland Rice._
From "The Sportlight."
A SONG OF TO-MORROW
A night's sleep and a new day--these are excellent things to look
forward to when one is weary or in trouble.
Li'l bit er trouble,
Honey, fer terday;
Yander come Termorrer--
Shine it all away!
Rainy Sky is sayin',
"Dis'll never do!
Fetch dem rainbow ribbons,
En I'll dress in blue!"
_Frank L. Stanton._
From "The Atlanta Constitution."
THE GLAD SONG
Gladness begins with the first person, with you. But it may spread far,
like the ripples when you toss a stone in the water.
Sing a song, sing a song,
Ring the glad-bells all along;
Smile at him who frowns at you,
He will smile and then they're two.
Laugh a bit, laugh a bit,
Folks will soon be catching it,
Can't resist a happy face;
World will be a merry place.
Laugh a Bit and Sing a Song,
Where they are there's nothing wrong;
Joy will dance the whole world through,
But it must begin with you.
_Joseph Morris._
PAINTING THE LILY
Many people are not content to let well enough alone, but spoil what
they have by striving for an unnecessary and foolish improvement. If
they have a rich title, they try to ornament it still further; if they
have refined gold, they try to gild it; if they have a lily, they try to
paint it into still purer color.
Therefore, to be possessed with double pomp,
To guard a title that was rich before,
To gild refined gold, to paint the lily,
To throw a perfume on the violet,
To smooth the ice, or add another hue
Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light
To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish,
Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.
_William Shakespeare._
A PRETTY GOOD WORLD
The world has its faults, but few of us would give it up till we have
to.
Pretty good world if you take it all round--
Pretty good world, good people!
Better be on than under the ground--
Pretty good world, good people!
Better be here where the skies are as blue
As the eyes of your sweetheart a-smilin' at you--
Better than lyin' 'neath daisies and dew--
Pretty good world, good people!
Pretty good world with its hopes and its fears--
Pretty good world, good people!
Sun twinkles bright through the rain of its tears--
Pretty good world, good people!
Better be here, in the pathway you know--
Where the thorn's in the garden where sweet roses grow,
Than to rest where you feel not the fall o' the snow--
Pretty good world, good people!
Pretty good world! Let us sing it that way--
Pretty good world, good people!
Make up your mind that you're in it to stay--
At least for a season, good people!
Pretty good world, with its dark and its bright--
Pretty good world, with its love and its light;
Sing it that way till you whisper, "Good-night!"--
Pretty good world, good people!
_Frank L. Stanton._
From "The Atlanta Constitution."
ODE TO DUTY
In the first stanza the poet hails duty as coming from God. It is a
light to guide us and a rod to check. To obey it does not lead to
victory; to obey it _is_ victory--is to live by a high, noble law. In
the second stanza he admits that some people do right without driving
themselves to it--do it by instinct and "the genial sense of youth." In
stanza 3 he looks forward to a time when all people will be thus
blessed, but he thinks that as yet it is unsafe for most of us to lose
touch completely with stern, commanding duty. In stanzas 4 and 5 he
states that he himself has been too impatient of control, has wearied
himself by changing from one desire to another, and now wishes to
regulate his life by some great abiding principle. In stanza 6 he
declares that duty, though stern, is benignant; the flowers bloom in
obedience to it, and the stars keep their places. In the final stanza he
dedicates his life to its service.
Stern Daughter of the Voice of God!
O Duty! if that name thou love
Who art a light to guide, a rod
To check the erring, and reprove;
Thou who art victory and law
When empty terrors overawe;
From vain temptations dost set free,
And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity!
There are who ask not if thine eye
Be on them; who, in love and truth
Where no misgiving is, rely
Upon the genial sense of youth:
Glad hearts! without reproach or blot,
Who do thy work, and know it not:
Oh! if through confidence misplaced
They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power! around them cast.
Serene will be our days and bright
And happy will our nature be
When love is an unerring light,
And joy its own security.
And they a blissful course may hold
Ev'n now, who, not unwisely bold,
Live in the spirit of this creed;
Yet seek thy firm support, according to their need.
I, loving freedom, and untried,
No sport of every random gust,
Yet being to myself a guide,
Too blindly have reposed my trust:
And oft, when in my heart was heard
Thy timely mandate, I deferr'd
The task, in smoother walks to stray;
But thee I now would serve more strictly, if I may.
Through no disturbance of my soul
Or strong compunction in me wrought,
I supplicate for thy control,
But in the quietness of thought:
Me this uncharter'd freedom tires;
I feel the weight of chance-desires:
My hopes no more must change their name;
I long for a repose that ever is the same.
Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear
The Godhead's most benignant grace,
Nor know we anything so fair
As is the smile upon thy face;
Flowers laugh before thee on their beds,
And fragrance in thy footing treads;
Thou dost preserve the Stars from wrong;
And the most ancient Heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong.
To humbler functions, awful Power!
I call thee: I myself commend
Unto thy guidance from this hour;
Oh let my weakness have an end!
Give unto me, made lowly wise,
The spirit of self-sacrifice;
The confidence of reason give;
And in the light of truth thy Bondman let me live.
_William Wordsworth._
THE SYNDICATED SMILE
A ready and sincere friendliness is the one thing we can show to every
human being, whether we know him or not. The world is full of perplexed
and lonely people whom even a smile or a kind look will help. Yet that
which is so easy to give we too often reserve for a few, and those
perhaps the least appreciative.
I knew a girl who had a beau
And his name wasn't Adams--
No child of hers would ever call
The present writer "daddums."
I didn't love the girl, but still
I found her most beguiling;
And so did all the other chaps--
She did it with her smiling.
"I'm not a one-man girl," she said--
"Of smiles my beau first took his;
But some are left; I'll syndicate
And pass them round like cookies."
That syndicated smile!
When trouble seemed the most in style,
It heartened us--
That indicated,
Syndicated
Smile.
It's not enough to please your boss
Or fawn round folks with bankrolls;
Be just as friendly to the guys
Whose homespun round their shank rolls.
The best investment in the world
Is goodwill, twenty carat;
It costs you nothing, brings returns;
So get yours out and air it.
A niggard of good nature cheats
Himself and wrongs his fellows.
You'd serve mankind? Then be less close
With friendly nods and helloes.
The syndicated smile!
If you have kept it all the while,
You've vindicated
The indicated,
Syndicated
Smile.
_St. Clair Adams._
FAIRY SONG
The great beneficent forces of life are not exhausted when once used,
but are recurrent. The sun rises afresh each new day. Once a year the
springtime returns and "God renews His ancient rapture." So it is with
our joys. They do not stay by us constantly; they pass from us and are
gone; but we need not trouble ourselves--they are sure to come back.
Shed no tear! O shed no tear!
The flower will bloom another year.
Weep no more! O weep no more!
Young buds sleep in the root's white core.
Dry your eyes! O dry your eyes,
For I was taught in Paradise
To ease my breast of melodies--
Shed no tear.