It Can Be Done - Poems of Inspiration | Page 7

to make others share them, we are shunned. But struggling and weary humanity is glad enough to share our joys.
Laugh, and the world laughs with you;?Weep, and you weep alone;?For the sad old earth?Must borrow its mirth,?It has trouble enough of its own.
Sing, and the hills will answer;?Sigh, it is lost on the air;?The echoes bound?To a joyful sound,?But shrink from voicing care.
Rejoice, and men will seek you;?Grieve, and they turn and go;?They want full measure?Of all your pleasure,?But they do not want your woe.
Be glad, and your friends are many;?Be sad, and you lose them all;?There are none to decline?Your nectared wine,?But alone you must drink life's gall.
Feast, and your halls are crowded;?Fast, and the world goes by;?Succeed and give,?And it helps you live,?But it cannot help you die.
There is room in the halls of pleasure?For a long and lordly train;?But one by one?We must all file on?Through the narrow aisles of pain.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
From "How Salvator Won."
UNSUBDUED
"An artist's career," said Whistler, "always begins to-morrow." So does the career of any man of courage and imagination. The Eden of such a man does not lie in yesterday. If he has done well, he forgets his achievements and dreams of the big deeds ahead. If he has been thwarted, he forgets his failures and looks forward to vast, sure successes. If fate itself opposes him, he defies it. Farragut's fleet was forcing an entrance into Mobile Bay. One of the vessels struck something, a terrific explosion followed, the vessel went down. "Torpedoes, sir." They scanned the face of the commander-in-chief. But Farragut did not hesitate. "Damn the torpedoes," said he. "Go ahead."
I 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.
I 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.
I am old, I am bent, I am cheated?Of all that Youth urged me to win;?But name me not with the defeated,?To-morrow again, I begin.
S.E. Kiser.
From "Poems That Have Helped Me."
WORK
"A SONG OF TRIUMPH"
When Captain John Smith was made the leader of the colonists at Jamestown, Va., he discouraged the get-rich-quick seekers of gold by announcing flatly, "He who will not work shall not eat." This rule made of Jamestown the first permanent English settlement in the New World. But work does more than lead to material success. It gives an outlet from sorrow, restrains wild desires, ripens and refines character, enables human beings to cooperate with God, and when well done, brings to life its consummate satisfaction. Every man is a Prince of Possibilities, but by work alone can he come into his Kingship.
Work!?Thank God for the might of it,?The ardor, the urge, the delight of it--?Work that springs from the heart's desire,?Setting the brain and the soul on fire--?Oh, what is so good as the heat of it,?And what is so glad as the beat of it,?And what is so kind as the stern command,?Challenging brain and heart and hand?
Work!?Thank God for the pride of it,?For the beautiful, conquering tide of it.?Sweeping the life in its furious flood,?Thrilling the arteries, cleansing the blood,?Mastering stupor and dull despair,?Moving the dreamer to do and dare.?Oh, what is so good as the urge of it,?And what is so glad as the surge of it,?And what is so strong as the summons deep,?Rousing the torpid soul from sleep?
Work!?Thank God for the pace of it,?For the terrible, keen, swift race of it;?Fiery steeds in full control,?Nostrils a-quiver to greet the goal.?Work, the Power that drives behind,?Guiding the purposes, taming the mind,?Holding the runaway wishes back,?Reining the will to one steady track,?Speeding the energies faster, faster,?Triumphing over disaster.?Oh, what is so good as the pain of it,?And what is so great as the gain of it??And what is so kind as the cruel goad,?Forcing us on through the rugged road?
Work!?Thank God for the swing of it,?For the clamoring, hammering ring of it,?Passion and labor daily hurled?On the mighty anvils of the world.?Oh, what is so fierce as the flame of it??And what is so huge as the aim of it??Thundering on through dearth and doubt,?Calling the plan of the Maker out.?Work, the Titan; Work, the friend,?Shaping the earth to a glorious end,?Draining the swamps and blasting the hills,?Doing whatever the Spirit wills--?Rending a continent apart,?To answer the dream of the Master heart.?Thank God for a world where none may shirk--?Thank God for the splendor of work!
Angela Morgan.
From "The Hour Has Struck."
HOW DID YOU DIE?
Grant at Ft. Donelson demanded unconditional and immediate surrender. At Appomattox he offered as lenient terms as victor ever extended to vanquished. Why the difference? The one event was at the beginning of the war,