- Thomas F. Porter
if the morn no joy to you shall bring,
No gleam of sunbeam shine across your way;
What if no bird one joyous note shall sing
Into your listening ear through all the day!
if no word of comfort you shall hear
As though the hours long you toil and strive;
What if to you no vision bright appear
To keep your hungry heart and soul alive!
if the blest companionship men crave
Come not to you through all the day's long length,
But, bound and fettered even as a slave,
Within yourself you have to find your strength!
if, when you have toiled and wrought alone,
The sweet reward you sought you do not gain,
And find the hoped-for bread is but stone,
In that sad hour for grief, should you complain?
no! It matters not if shade or sun,
Or good or ill, your efforts shall attend;
In doing you have but your duty done
As best you knew - and should do to the end.
- Leigh Hunt
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 blest,
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.
earth's last picture is painted, and the tubes
are twisted and dried,
When the oldest colors have faded, and the
youngest critic has died.
We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it - lie down
for an aeon or two
Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall set us
to work anew!
those who were good will be happy; they
shall sit in a golden chair;
They shall splash at a ten-league canvas with
brushes of comet's hair;
They shall find real saints to draw from -
Magdalene, Peter and Paul;
They shall work for an age at a sitting and never
be tired at all;
only the Master shall praise us, and only
the Master shall blame;
And no one shall work for money, and no one
shall work for fame;
But each for the joy of the working, and each,
in his separate star,
Shall draw the Thing as he sees It for the God of
Things as They are!
Believe not each accusing tongue,
As most weak persons do:
But still believe that story wrong
Which ought not be true.
NOT IN VAIN
- Emily Dickinson
can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain.
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again
I shall not live in vain.
- William Ernest Henley
of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud;
Under the bludgeonings of Chance
My head is bloody, but unbow'd.
this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
matters not how straight the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.
have hoped, I have planned, I have striven,
To the will I have added the deed;
The best that was in me I've given,
I have prayed, but the gods would not heed.
have dared and reached only disaster,
I have battled and broken my lance;
I am bruised by a pitiless master
That the weak and the timid call chance.
am old, I am bent, I am cheated
Of all that youth urged me to win;
But name me not with the defeated,
Tomorrow again, I begin.
must not hope to be mowers,
And to gather the ripe gold ears,
Unless we have first been sowers
And watered the furrows with tears.
is not just as we take it,
This mystical world of ours,
Life's field will yield as we make it
A harvest of thorns or of flowers.
The good we
meant to do - the deeds
So oft misunderstood;
The thwarted good we try to do,
And would do, if we could,
The noble deeds we set upon
And have accomplished none -
Write them - and with them credit all
The bad we have not done.