It Can Be Done - Joseph Morris
"What's de use ob raisin' chickens ef dey won't stay riz?
What's de use ob freezin' sherbet ef it won't stay friz?
What's de use ob payin' debts off ef dey's gwine stay owed?
What's de use ob blowin' noses ef dey won't stay blowed?"
This old world is sometimes jealous of the chap who means to rise;
It sneers at what he's doing or it bats him 'twixt the eyes;
It trips him when he's careless, and it makes his way so hard
What's left of him is sinew, not a walking tub of lard;
But it's only wasting effort, for by George, the guy keeps on
When his hopes have crumbled round him and you'd think his faith was gone,
Till the world at last knocks under and it passes him a crown:
Once, twice, thrice it has upset him, but
he
won't
stay
down.
What cares he when out he's flattened by the cruel blow it deals?
He has rubber in his shoulders and a mainspring in his heels.
Let the world uncork its buffets till he's bruised from toe to crown;
Let it thump him, bump him, dump him, but he won't stay down.
_St. Clair Adams._
THE RAINBOW
Our lives are not a hodge-podge of separate experiences, though they
sometimes seem so. They are held together by simple things which we
behold again and again with the same emotions. Thus the man is what the
boy has been; the tree is inclined in the precise direction the twig was
bent.
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
_William Wordsworth._
THE FIRM OF GRIN AND BARRETT
It has been said that when disaster overtakes us, we can do one of two
things--we can grin and bear it, or we needn't grin. The spirit that
keeps a smile on our faces when our burden is heaviest is the spirit
that will win in the long run. Many men know how to take success
quietly. The real test of a man is he way he takes failure.
No financial throe volcanic
Ever yet was known to scare it;
Never yet was any panic
Scared the firm of Grin and Barrett.
From the flurry and the fluster,
From the ruin and the crashes,
They arise in brighter lustre,
Like the phoenix from his ashes.
When the banks and corporations
Quake with fear, they do not share it;
Smiling through all perturbations
Goes the firm of Grin and Barrett.
Grin and Barrett,
Who can scare it?
Scare the firm of Grin and Barrett?
When the tide-sweep of reverses
Smites them, firm they stand and dare it
Without wailings, tears, or curses,
This stout firm of Grin and Barrett.
Even should their house go under
In the flood and inundation,
Calm they stand amid the thunder
Without noise or demonstration.
And, when sackcloth is the fashion,
With a patient smile they wear it,
Without petulance or passion,
This old firm of Grin and Barrett.
Grin and Barrett,
Who can scare it?
Scare the firm of Grin and Barrett?
When the other firms show dizziness,
Here's a house that does not share it.
Wouldn't you like to join the business?
Join the firm of Grin and Barrett?
Give your strength that does not murmur,
And your nerve that does not falter,
And you've joined a house that's firmer
Than the old rock of Gibraltar.
They have won a good prosperity;
Why not join the firm and share it?
Step, young fellow, with celerity;
Join the firm of Grin and Barrett.
Grin and Barrett,
Who can scare it?
Scare the firm of Grin and Barrett?
_Sam Walter Foss._
From "Songs of the Average Man."
[Illustration: SAM WALTER FOSS]
CHALLENGE
Napoleon is reported to have complained of the English that they didn't
have sense enough to know when they were beaten. Even if defeat is
unmistakable, it need not be final. A battle may be lost, but the
campaign won; a campaign lost, but the war won.
Life, I challenge you to try me,
Doom me to unending pain;
Stay my hand, becloud my vision,
Break my heart and then--again.
Shatter every dream I've cherished,
Fill my heart with ruthless fear;
Follow every smile that cheers me
With a bitter, blinding tear.
Thus I dare you; you can try me,
Seek to make me cringe and moan,
Still my unbound soul defies you,
I'll withstand you--and, alone!
_Jean Nette._
YOUR MISSION
One of the most often-heard of sentences is "I don't know what I'm to do
in the world." Yet very few people are ever for a moment out of
something to do, especially if they do not insist on climbing to the top
of the pole and waving the flag, but are willing to steady the pole
while somebody else climbs.
If you cannot on the ocean
Sail among the swiftest fleet,
Rocking on the highest billows,
Laughing at the storms you meet;
You can stand among the sailors,
Anchored yet within the bay,
You can lend a hand to help them
As they launch their boats away.
If you are too weak to journey
Up the mountain, steep and high,
You can stand within the valley
While the multitudes go by;
You can chant in happy measure
As they slowly pass along--
Though they may forget the singer,
They will not forget the song.
* * * * *
If you cannot in the harvest
Garner up the richest sheaves,
Many a grain, both ripe and golden,
Oft the careless reaper leaves;
Go and glean among the briars
Growing rank against the wall,
For it may be that their shadow
Hides the heaviest grain of all.
If you cannot in the conflict
Prove yourself a soldier true;
If, where fire and smoke are thickest,
There's no work for you to do;
When the battle field is silent,
You can go with careful tread;
You can bear away the wounded,
You can cover up the dead.
Do not then stand idly waiting
For some greater work to do;
Fortune is a lazy goddess,
She will never come to you;
Go and toil in any vineyard,
Do not fear to do and dare.
If you want a field of labor
You can find it anywhere.
_Ellen M.H. Gates._
VICTORY
To fail is not a disgrace; the disgrace lies in not trying. In his old
age Sir Walter Scott found that a publishing firm he was connected with
was heavily in debt. He refused to take advantage of the bankruptcy law,
and sat down with his pen to make good the deficit. Though he wore out
his life in the struggle and did not live to see the debt entirely
liquidated, he died an honored and honorable man.
I call no fight a losing fight
If, fighting, I have gained some straight new strength;
If, fighting, I turned ever toward the light,
All unallied with forces of the night;
If, beaten, quivering, I could say at length:
"I did no deed that needs to be unnamed;
I fought--and lost--and I am unashamed."
_Miriam Teichner._
TIMES GO BY TURNS
One of the greatest blessings in life is alteration. The ins become
outs, the outs ins; the ups become downs, the downs ups; and so on--and
it is better so. We must not get too highly elated at success, for life
is not all success. We must not grow too downcast from failure, for life
is not all failure.
The lopped tree in time may grow again,
Most naked plants renew both fruit and flower;
The sorriest wight may find release of pain,
The driest soil suck in some moistening shower;
Time goes by turns, and chances change by course,
From foul to fair, from better hap to worse.
The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow;
She draws her favors to the lowest ebb;
Her tides have equal times to come and go;
Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web;
No joy so great but runneth to an end,
No hap so hard but may in fine amend.
Not always fall of leaf, nor ever Spring;
Not endless night, yet not eternal day;
The saddest birds a season find to sing;
The roughest storm a calm may soon allay.
Thus, with succeeding turns God tempereth all,
That man may hope to rise, yet fear to fall.
A chance may win that by mischance was lost;
That net that holds no great takes little fish;
In some things all, in all things none are crost;
Few all they need, but none have all they wish.
Unmingled joys here to no man befall;
Who least, hath some; who most, hath never all.
_Robert Southwell._
TO-DAY
The past did not behold to-day; the future shall not. We must use it now
if it is to be of any benefit to mankind.
So here hath been dawning
Another blue day;
Think, wilt thou let it
Slip useless away?
Out of Eternity
This new day is born;
Into Eternity,
At night will return.
Behold it aforetime
No eye ever did;
So soon it for ever
From all eyes is hid.
Here hath been dawning
Another blue day;
Think, wilt thou let it
Slip useless away?
_Thomas Carlyle._
UNAFRAID
I have no fear. What is in store for me
Shall find me ready for it, undismayed.
God grant my only cowardice may be
Afraid--to be afraid!
_Everard Jack Appleton._
From "The Quiet Courage."
BORROWED FEATHERS
Many good, attractive people spoil the merits they have by trying to be
something bigger or showier. It is always best to be one's self.
A rooster one morning was preening his feathers
That glistened so bright in the sun;
He admired the tints of the various colors
As he laid them in place one by one.
Now as roosters go he was a fine bird,
And he should have been satisfied;
But suddenly there as he marched along,
Some peacock feathers he spied.
They had beautiful spots and their colors were gay--
He wished that his own could be green;
He dropped his tail, tried to hide it away;
Was completely ashamed to be seen.
Then his foolish mind hatched up a scheme--
A peacock yet he could be;
So he hopped behind a bush to undress
Where the other fowls could not see.
He caught his own tail between his bill,
And pulled every feather out;
And into the holes stuck the peacock plumes;
Then proudly strutted about.
The other fowls rushed to see the queer sight;
And the peacocks came when they heard;
They could not agree just what he was,
But pronounced him a funny bird.
Then the chickens were angry that one of their kind
Should try to be a peacock;
And the peacocks were mad that one with their tail
Should belong to a common fowl flock.
So the chickens beset him most cruelly behind,
And yanked his whole tail out together;
The peacocks attacked him madly before,
And pulled out each chicken feather.
And when he stood stripped clean down to the skin,
A horrible thing to the rest,
He learned this sad lesson when it was too late--
As his own simple self he was best.
_Joseph Morris._
KEEP ON KEEPIN' ON
The author of these homely stanzas has caught perfectly the spirit which
succeeds in the rough-and-tumble of actual life.
If the day looks kinder gloomy
And your chances kinder slim,
If the situation's puzzlin'
And the prospect's awful grim,
If perplexities keep pressin'
Till hope is nearly gone,
Just bristle up and grit your teeth
And keep on keepin' on.
Frettin' never wins a fight
And fumin' never pays;
There ain't no use in broodin'
In these pessimistic ways;
Smile just kinder cheerfully
Though hope is nearly gone,
And bristle up and grit your teeth
And keep on keepin' on.
There ain't no use in growlin'
And grumblin' all the time,
When music's ringin' everywhere
And everything's a rhyme.
Just keep on smilin' cheerfully
If hope is nearly gone,
And bristle up and grit your teeth
And keep on keepin' on.
_Anonymous._
THE DISAPPOINTED
Those who have striven nobly and failed deserve sympathy. Sometimes they
deserve also praise unreserved, in that they have refused to do
something ignoble which would have led to what the world calls success.
They have lived the idea which Macbeth merely proclaimed:
"I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more is none."
There are songs enough for the hero
Who dwells on the heights of fame;
I sing of the disappointed--
For those who have missed their aim.
I sing with a tearful cadence
For one who stands in the dark,
And knows that his last, best arrow
Has bounded back from the mark.
I sing for the breathless runner,
The eager, anxious soul,
Who falls with his strength exhausted.
Almost in sight of the goal;
For the hearts that break in silence,
With a sorrow all unknown,
For those who need companions,
Yet walk their ways alone.
There are songs enough for the lovers
Who share love's tender pain,
I sing for the one whose passion
Is given all in vain.
For those whose spirit comrades
Have missed them on their way,
I sing, with a heart o'erflowing,
This minor strain to-day.
And I know the Solar system
Must somewhere keep in space
A prize for that spent runner
Who barely lost the race.
For the plan would be imperfect
Unless it held some sphere
That paid for the toil and talent
And love that are wasted here.
_Ella Wheeler Wilcox._
From "Picked Poems."
LET ME LIVE OUT MY YEARS
We speak of the comforts and ease of old age, but our noblest selves do
not really desire them. We want to do more than exist. We want to be
alive to the very last.
Let me live out my years in heat of blood!
Let me die drunken with the dreamer's wine!
Let me not see this soul-house built of mud
Go toppling to the dust--a vacant shrine!
Let me go quickly like a candle light
Snuffed out just at the heyday of its glow!
Give me high noon--and let it then be night!
Thus would I go.
And grant that when I face the grisly Thing,
My song may triumph down the gray Perhaps!
Let me be as a tuneswept fiddlestring
That feels the Master Melody--and snaps.
_John G. Neihardt_
From "The Quest" (collected lyrics).
COLUMBUS
This poem pictures courage and high resolution. To the terrors of an
unknown sea and the mutinous dismay of the sailors Columbus has but two
things to oppose--his faith and his unflinching will. But these suffice,
as they always do. In the last four lines of the poem is a lesson for
our nation to-day. The seas upon which our ideals have launched us are
perilous and uncharted. In some ways our whole voyage of democracy seems
futile. Shall we turn back, or shall we, like Columbus, answer the
falterers in words that leap like a leaping sword; "Sail on, sail on"?
Behind him lay the gray Azores,
Behind the Gates of Hercules;
Before him not the ghost of shores:
Before him only shoreless seas.
The good mate said: "Now must we pray,
For lo! the very stars are gone.
Brave Adm'r'l, speak; what shall I say?"
"Why, say: 'Sail on! sail on! and on!'"
"My men grow mutinous day by day;
My men grow ghastly wan and weak."
The stout mate thought of home; a spray
Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek.
"What shall I say, brave Adm'r'l, say,
If we sight naught but seas at dawn?"
"Why, you shall say at break of day:
'Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!'"
They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow;
Until at last the blanched mate said:
"Why, now not even God would know
Should I and all my men fall dead.
These very winds forget their way,
For God from these dread seas is gone.
Now speak, brave Adm'r'l; speak and say--"
He said: "Sail on! sail on! and on!"
They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate:
"This mad sea shows his teeth to-night.
He curls his lip, he lies in wait,
With lifted teeth, as if to bite!
Brave Adm'r'l, say but one good word:
What shall we do when hope is gone?"
The words leapt like a leaping sword:
"Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!"
Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck,
And peered through darkness. Ah, that night
Of all dark nights! And then a speck--
It grew, a starlit flag unfurled!
It grew to be Time's burst of dawn.
He gained a world; he gave that world
Its grandest lesson: "On! sail on!"
_Joaquin Miller._
From "Joaquin Miller's Complete Poems."
PER ASPERA
A motto has been made of the Latin phrase "per aspera ad astra," of
which the translation sometimes given is "through bolts and bars to the
stars."
Thank God, a man can grow!
He is not bound
With earthward gaze to creep along the ground:
Though his beginnings be but poor and low,
Thank God, a man can grow!
The fire upon his altars may burn dim,
The torch he lighted may in darkness fail,
And nothing to rekindle it avail,--
Yet high beyond his dull horizon's rim,
Arcturus and the Pleiads beckon him.
_Florence Earle Coates._
From "Poems."
TIT FOR TAT
We are quick to notice obstacles, grudges, affronts. Are we equally
quick to recognize the kindly influences that speed us on our way? The
truth is we are each of us a debtor to life, and as honest men we should
do all we can to discharge the obligation.
"Life," you say, "'s an old curmudgeon; yes, a thing whose heart is
flint;
When I ask a friendly greeting, all I get's an angry glint.
Let me do it every good turn that I can--my very best,
Still it strikes me, trips, maligns me, and denies my least request.
"So," you say, "my patience ended, I will give it tit for tat."
What a bunch of animosities is covered by your hat!
All the roses life can offer bloom and beckon to your soul,
But you close your eyes to roses and in thorns lie down and roll.
Life does nothing for you, sonny? What a notion you have! Say,
Make a little inventory of its gifts to you to-day.
You've a house or room to sleep in--did you build it with your hand?
If you did, who made the hammer and who cleared for you the land?
And electric lights--you use them; did you also put them there?
Beefsteak, coal, your mail, shoes, street cars--do they come like
rain from air?
Or do countless men, far-scattered, toil that you may have more
ease?--
Stokers, hodmen, farmers, plumbers, Yankees, dagoes, Japanese?
"Oh, that's general," you tell me. You have private blessings too.
Why, your mother in your childhood slaved and wrought and lived for you.
Helpful hands were all around you--hopes, fond wishes in the past;
Even now each day from somewhere friendly looks are on you cast.
Though you've been both crossed and harried, you've not struggled
on alone;
Through the discords of endeavor comes to you an answering tone.
Life has done you many favors. Will you give it tit for tat?
Since you've looked so much at this side, won't you have a look
at that?
Don't help only those who've helped you, count the rest as strangers,
foes;
How long now would you have lasted had all done as you propose?
Many and many a benefactor you did not nor can repay--
There's your mother. Pass the kindness on to others--that's the way.
Life it is that's given freely. Unto life make due return.
Whether folks are undeserving, neither seek nor wish to learn.
Hit your dernedest for your teammates every time you come to bat,
And the world will be more happy that you give it tit for tat.
_St. Clair Adams._
THE KINGDOM OF MAN
The wisest men know that the greatest world is not outside them. They
could, in Shakespeare's phrase, be bounded by a nut-shell and count
themselves kings of infinite space.
What of the outer drear,
As long as there's inner light;
As long as the sun of cheer
Shines ardently bright?
As long as the soul's a-wing,
As long as the heart is true,
What power hath trouble to bring
A sorrow to you?
No bar can encage the soul,
Nor capture the spirit free,
As long as old earth shall roll,
Or hours shall be.
Our world is the world within,
Our life is the thought we take,
And never an outer sin
Can mar it or break.
Brood not on the rich man's land,
Sigh not for miser's gold,
Holding in reach of your hand
The treasure untold
That lies in the Mines of Heart,
That rests in the soul alone--
Bid worry and care depart,
Come into your own!
_John Kendrick_
From "Songs of Cheer."
ABOU BEN ADHEM
"Forgive my enemies?" said the dying man to the priest. "I have none.
I've killed them all." This old ideal of exterminating our enemies has
by no means disappeared from the earth. But it is waning. "Live and let
live" is a more modern slogan, which mounts in turn from mere
toleration of other people to a spirit of service and universal
brotherhood. Love of our fellow men--has humanity reached any height
superior to this?
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:--
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,
"What writest thou?"--The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."
"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerily still; and said, "I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men."
The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,
And, lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.
_Leigh Hunt._
THIS WORLD
There is good in life and there is ill. The question is where we should
put the emphasis.
This world that we're a-livin' in
Is mighty hard to beat;
You git a thorn with every rose,
But _ain't _the roses _sweet_!
_Frank L. Stanton._
From "The Atlanta Constitution."
GRAY DAYS
By reckoning up the odds against us and ignoring the forces in our
favor, we may indeed close the door of hope. But why not take matters
the other way about? Why not see the situation clearly and then throw
our own strong purpose in the scales? In the course of a battle an
officer reported to Stonewall Jackson that he must fall back because his
ammunition had been spoiled by a rainstorm. "So has the enemy's," was
the instant reply. "Give them the bayonet." This resolute spirit won the
battle.
Hang the gray days!
The deuce-to-pay days!
The feeling-blue and nothing-to-do days!
The sit-by-yourself-for-there's-nothing-new days!
When the cat that Care killed without excuse
With your inner self's crying, "Oh, what's the use?"
And you wonder whatever is going to become of you,
And you feel that a cipher expresses the sum of you;
And you know that you'll never,
Oh, never, be clever,
Spite of all your endeavor
Or hard work or whatever!
Oh, gee!
What a mix-up you see
When you look at the world where you happen to be!
Where strangers are hateful and friends are a bore,
And you know in your heart you will smile nevermore!
Gee, kid!
Clap on the lid!
It is all a mistake! Give your worries the skid!
There are sunny days coming
Succeeding the blue
And bees will be humming
Making honey for you,
And your heart will be singing
The merriest tune
While April is bringing
A May and a June!
Gray days?
Play days!
Joy-bringing pay days
And heart-lifting May days!
The sun will be shining in just a wee while
So smile!
_Griffith Alexander._
From "The Philadelphia Evening Public Ledger."
[Illustration: EDMUND VANCE COOKE]
LAUGH A LITTLE BIT
"A merry heart doeth good like a medicine"; a little laughter cures many
a seeming ill.
Here's a motto, just your fit--
Laugh a little bit.
When you think you're trouble hit,
Laugh a little bit.
Look misfortune in the face.
Brave the beldam's rude grimace;
Ten to one 'twill yield its place,
If you have the wit and grit
Just to laugh a little bit.
Keep your face with sunshine lit,
Laugh a little bit.
All the shadows off will flit,
If you have the grit and wit
Just to laugh a little bit.
Cherish this as sacred writ--
Laugh a little bit.
Keep it with you, sample it,
Laugh a little bit.
Little ills will sure betide you,
Fortune may not sit beside you,
Men may mock and fame deride you,
But you'll mind them not a whit
If you laugh a little bit.
_Edmund Vance Cooke._
From "A Patch of Pansies."
A SONG OF LIFE
Many of us merely exist, and think that we live. What we should regain
at all costs is freshness and intensity of being. This need not involve
turbulent activity. It may involve quite the opposite.