It Can Be Done - Poems of Inspiration | Page 6

Who
Understands!_
As the tide went out she found him
Lashed to a spar of Despair,

The wreck of his Ship around him--
The wreck of his Dreams in the
air;
Found him and loved him and gathered
The soul of him close to
her heart--
The soul that had sailed an uncharted sea,
The soul that
had sought to win and be free--
The soul of which she was part!

And there in the dusk she cried to the man,
"Win your battle--you can,

you can!"
Broken by Fate, unrelenting,
Scarred by the lashings of Chance;

Bitter his heart--unrepenting--
Hardened by Circumstance;

Shadowed by Failure ever,
Cursing, he would have died,
But the
touch of her hand, her strong warm hand,
And her love of his soul,
took full command,
Just at the turn of the tide!
Standing beside him,
filled with trust,
"Win!" she whispered, "you must, you must!"
Helping and loving and guiding,
Urging when that were best,

Holding her fears in hiding
Deep in her quiet breast;
This is the
woman who kept him
True to his standards lost,
When, tossed in
the storm and stress of strife,
He thought himself through with the
game of life
And ready to pay the cost.
Watching and guarding,
whispering still,
"Win you can--and you will, you will!"
This is the story of ages,
This is the Woman's way;
Wiser than seers
or sages,
Lifting us day by day;
Facing all things with a courage

Nothing can daunt or dim,
Treading Life's path, wherever it leads--

Lined with flowers or choked with weeds,
But ever with him--with
him!
Guidon--comrade--golden spur--
The men who win are helped
by her!
_Somewhere she waits, strong in belief, your soul in her firm, white
hands: Thank well the gods, when she comes to you--the Woman Who
Understands!_
Everard Jack Appleton.
From "The Quiet Courage."
WANTED--A MAN
Business and the world are exacting in their demands upon us. They
make no concessions to half-heartedness, incompetence, or plodding
mediocrity. But for the man who has proved his worth and can do the

exceptional things with originality and sound judgment, they are
eagerly watchful and have rich rewards.
You say big corporations scheme
To keep a fellow down;
They
drive him, shame him, starve him too
If he so much as frown.
God
knows I hold no brief for them;
Still, come with me to-day
And
watch those fat directors meet,
For this is what they say:
"In all our force not one to take
The new work that we plan!
In all
the thousand men we've hired
Where shall we find a man?"
The world is shabby in the way
It treats a fellow too;
It just endures
him while he works,
And kicks him when he's through.
It's ruthless,
yes; let him make good,
Or else it grabs its broom
And grumbles:
"What a clutter's here!
We can't have this. Make room!"
And out he goes. It says, "Can bread
Be made from mouldy bran?

The men come swarming here in droves,
But where'll I find a man?"
Yes, life is hard. But all the same
It seeks the man who's best.
Its
grudging makes the prizes big;
The obstacle's a test.
Don't ask to
find the pathway smooth,
To march to fife and drum;
The plum-tree
will not come to you;
Jack Horner, hunt the plum.
The eyes of life are yearning, sad,
As humankind they scan.
She
says, "Oh, there are men enough,
But where'll I find a man?"
St. Clair Adams.
IF I SHOULD DIE
A man whose word is as good as his bond is a man the world admires.
It is related of Fox that a tradesman whom he long had owed money
found him one day counting gold and asked for payment. Fox replied:
"No; I owe this money to Sheridan. It is a debt of honor. If an accident
should happen to me, he has nothing to show." The tradesman tore his

note to pieces: "I change my debt into a debt of honor." Fox thanked
him and handed over the money, saying that Sheridan's debt was not of
so long standing and that Sheridan must wait. But most of us know men
who are less scrupulous than Fox.
If I should die to-night
And you should come to my cold corpse and
say,
Weeping and heartsick o'er my lifeless clay--
If I should die
to-night,
And you should come in deepest grief and woe--
And say:
"Here's that ten dollars that I owe,"
I might arise in my large white
cravat
And say, "What's that?"
If I should die to-night
And you should come to my cold corpse and
kneel,
Clasping my bier to show the grief you feel,
I say, if I should
die to-night
And you should come to me, and there and then
Just
even hint 'bout payin' me that ten,
I might arise the while,
But I'd
drop dead again.
Ben King.
From "Ben King's Verse."
JUST BE GLAD
Misfortunes overtake us, difficulties confront us; but these things must
not induce us to give up. A Congressman who had promised Thomas B.
Reed to be present at a political meeting telegraphed at the last moment:
"Cannot come; washout on the line." "No need to stay away," said
Reed's answering