It Can Be Done - Poems of Inspiration | Page 8

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, when the enemy's morale must be shaken. The
other was at the end of the conflict, when a brave and noble adversary
had been rendered helpless. In his quiet way Grant showed himself one
of nature's gentlemen. He also taught a great lesson. No honor can be
too great for the man, be he even our foe, who has steadily and
uncomplainingly done his very best--and has failed.
Did you tackle that trouble that came your way
With a resolute heart
and cheerful?
Or hide your face from the light of day
With a craven
soul and fearful?
Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce,
Or a

trouble is what you make it,
And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that
counts,
But only how did you take it?
You are beaten to earth? Well, well, what's that!
Come up with a
smiling face.
It's nothing against you to fall down flat,
But to lie
there--that's disgrace.
The harder you're thrown, why the higher you
bounce
Be proud of your blackened eye!
It isn't the fact that you're
licked that counts;
It's how did you fight--and why?
And though you be done to the death, what then?
If you battled the
best you could,
If you played your part in the world of men,
Why,
the Critic will call it good.
Death comes with a crawl, or comes with
a pounce,
And whether he's slow or spry,
It isn't the fact that you're
dead that counts,
But only how did you die?
Edmund Vance Cooke.
From "Impertinent Poems."
A LESSON FROM HISTORY
To break the ice of an undertaking is difficult. To cross on broken ice,
as Eliza did to freedom, or to row amid floating ice, as Washington did
to victory, is harder still. This poem applies especially to those who are
discouraged in a struggle to which they are already committed.
Everything's easy after it's done;
Every battle's a "cinch" that's won;

Every problem is clear that's solved--
The earth was round when it
revolved!
But Washington stood amid grave doubt
With enemy
forces camped about;
He could not know how he would fare
Till
after he'd crossed the Delaware.
Though the river was full of ice
He did not think about it twice,
But
started across in the dead of night,
The enemy waiting to open the
fight.
Likely feeling pretty blue,
Being human, same as you,
But
he was brave amid despair,
And Washington crossed the Delaware!

So when you're with trouble beset,
And your spirits are soaking wet,

When all the sky with clouds is black,
Don't lie down upon your
back
And look at them. Just do the thing;
Though you are