Custer | Page 2

the race.
The warmth which comes from heavenly fire,?The strength which leads the weaker man?To climb to God's Eternal plan?And conquer and control desire.
She shook as with a mighty awe,?For, gazing on this shape which stood?Embodying all true womanhood,?She knew it was _herself_ she saw.
She woke as from a dream. But when?The laughing lover, light and bold?Came with his talk of wine and gold?He gazed, grew silent, gazed again;
Then turned abashed from those calm eyes?Where lurked no more the lure to sin.?Her higher self had entered in,?Her path led now to Paradise.
=Thought-Magnets=
With each strong thought, with every earnest longing?For aught thou deemest needful to thy soul,?Invisible vast forces are set thronging?Between thee and that goal.
'Tis only when some hidden weakness alters?And changes thy desire, or makes it less,?That this mysterious army ever falters?Or stops short of success.
Thought is a magnet; and the longed-for pleasure?Or boon, or aim, or object, is the steel;?And its attainment hangs but on the measure?Of what thy soul can feel.
=Smiles=
Smile a little, smile a little,?As you go along,?Not alone when life is pleasant,?But when things go wrong.?Care delights to see you frowning,?Loves to hear you sigh;?Turn a smiling face upon her,?Quick the dame will fly.
Smile a little, smile a little,?All along the road;?Every life must have its burden,?Every heart its load.?Why sit down in gloom and darkness,?With your grief to sup??As you drink Fate's bitter tonic,?Smile across the cup.
Smile upon the troubled pilgrims?Whom you pass and meet;?Frowns are thorns, and smiles are blossoms?Oft for weary feet.
Do not make the way seem harder?By a sullen face,?Smile a little, smile a little,?Brighten up the place.
Smile upon your undone labor;?Not for one who grieves?O'er his task, waits wealth or glory;?He who smiles achieves.?Though you meet with loss and sorrow?In the passing years,?Smile a little, smile a little,?Even through your tears.
=The Undiscovered Country=
Man has explored all countries and all lands,?And made his own the secrets of each clime.?Now, ere the world has fully reached its prime,?The oval earth lies compassed with steel bands;?The seas are slaves to ships that touch all strands,?And even the haughty elements sublime?And bold, yield him their secrets for all time,?And speed like lackeys forth at his commands.
Still, though he search from shore to distant shore,?And no strange realms, no unlocated plains?Are left for his attainment and control,?Yet is there one more kingdom to explore.?Go, know thyself, O man! there yet remains?The undiscovered country of thy soul!
=The Universal Route=
As we journey along, with a laugh and a song,?We see, on youth's flower-decked slope,?Like a beacon of light, shining fair on the sight,?The beautiful Station of Hope.
But the wheels of old Time roll along as we climb,?And our youth speeds away on the years;?And with hearts that are numb with life's sorrows we come?To the mist-covered Station of Tears.
Still onward we pass, where the milestones, alas!?Are the tombs of our dead, to the West,?Where glitters and gleams, in the dying sunbeams,?The sweet, silent Station of Rest.
All rest is but change, and no grave can estrange?The soul from its Parent above;?And, scorning the rod, it soars back to its God,?To the limitless City of Love.
=Earthly Pride=
How baseless is the mightiest earthly pride,?The diamond is but charcoal purified,?The lordliest pearl that decks a monarch's breast?Is but an insect's sepulchre at best.
=Unanswered Prayers=
Like some school master, kind in being stern,?Who hears the children crying o'er their slates?And calling, "Help me master!" yet helps not,?Since in his silence and refusal lies?Their self-development, so God abides?Unheeding many prayers. He is not deaf?To any cry sent up from earnest hearts,?He hears and strengthens when He must deny.?He sees us weeping over life's hard sums?But should He give the key and dry our tears?What would it profit us when school were done?And not one lesson mastered?
What a world?Were this if all our prayers were answered. Not?In famed Pandora's box were such vast ills?As lie in human hearts. Should our desires?Voiced one by one in prayer ascend to God?And come back as events shaped to our wish?What chaos would result!
In my fierce youth?I sighed out breath enough to move a fleet?Voicing wild prayers to heaven for fancied boons?Which were denied; and that denial bends?My knee to prayers of gratitude each day?Of my maturer years. Yet from those prayers?I rose alway regirded for the strife?And conscious of new strength. Pray on, sad heart,?That which thou pleadest for may not be given?But in the lofty altitude where souls?Who supplicate God's grace are lifted there?Thou shalt find help to bear thy daily lot?Which is not elsewhere found.
=Thanksgiving=
We walk on starry fields of white?And do not see the daisies;?For blessings common in our sight?We rarely offer praises.?We sigh for some supreme delight?To crown our lives with splendor,?And quite ignore our daily store?Of pleasures sweet and tender.
Our cares are bold and push their way?Upon our thought and feeling.?They hang about us