Our Profession and Other Poems | Page 3

days,?And dies but with the sun.?A mercenary soul must find?A more congenial field?Than that of training human mind?Wherein a soul's concealed,?If it would live out all the days?Allotted unto man,?And bask in all the genial rays?Revealed in God's great plan.
No lubrication of the nerves?Has ever yet been found,?For him who like a menial serves?Dull lesson's daily round;?But gnawing friction, stern and gaunt,?Tears flesh and brain away,?While ghosts nocturnal ever haunt?A soul with fell dismay,?Whose mercenary greed has led?Itself into a snare?That counts by scores its strangled dead,?Its hundreds, in despair.
He doubly lives who can forget?Himself and his own ease,?While toiling patiently to set?New gems in crowns he sees,?That may adorn some other head?Than that he calls his own,?And animate the germs wide spread?In seeds already sown.

To skim the surface of knowledge,?And seldom its root to reach,?Is a recipe one may offer?To direct "How Not To Teach."
NEEDS AND POWERS.
I know of no profession?'Mong profane or divine,?Excelling in its mission?The power embraced in mine.
It reaches earth and heaven?Through heart and soul of man,?It lives beyond the present--?Eternity doth span.
Mind in its first formation,?While in its plastic state,?Receives primal impressions?Which make it vile or great.
When soil of thought is fertile?And ready for the seeds,?It may bring precious fruitage,?Or vile and noxious weeds.
No sower should be careless,?For harvest much depends?Upon the well-selected seeds,?With mental soil he blends.
If field be rich and mellow?And no good seed be sown,?With tangled mass of vileness?It will be overgrown,
And shield the deadly serpent,?The basilisk of sin,?That far exhales its pois'nous breath,?Then crawls its den within.
No atoms of pollution?In matter e'er was known,?So vile or so destructive?As soul by sin o'erthrown.
The vilest spot upon the earth,?Through sunshine, air, and rain,?May be transformed in ev'ry part?And purified again.
The fields where chaos reigned supreme?And Nature frowned aghast,?By patient-toil have fruitage borne?And blossomed fragrance cast.
The wreck of spheres by traction's laws?Hurled wildly into space,?May gather atoms round itself?And find some resting place
Where it may serve creation's end,?And 'mong the planets roll,?True to the laws of gravity?That marks its outer pole.
The mind and soul can never?Within themselves find rest,?When all the sin's pollutions?Are harbored in the breast.
Then sow good seed, brave teacher,?And deeply plant with care,?That both here and hereafter?Rich harvest it may bear.
The sowing may be silent--?It may be but a tear,?Its strength is in its purpose,?Its aim must be sincere.
It should not be a rite or creed,?But wider far than these,?It should encompass God and man,?Home and antipodes.
To learn the truths of science,?Know tables, books and charts,?To analyze the potent thrill?That fires all earnest hearts,
To revel in the mysteries?That lie deep in the earth,?To give the proper data?When planets had their birth,
To know the exact elements?That constitute the sun,?The causes why swift currents?Within the ocean run,
The ratio of the vapors?That color sunset skies,?Time's infinitesimal fraction?When planets set and rise,
To solve the problems of the air,?The secrets of the deep,?Are all intrinsic subjects?And worthy of our keep.
But these alone are worthless,?They need augmented force?To lead mind toward the fountain?From which it had its source.
They leave one vital question--?Development of man--?Without e'en crude solution,?Without a working plan.
They leave the mighty problem?Of Maker and the Made,?Devoid of any sequence,?Or any plan portrayed.
These are of greatest moment?To persons and to State,?Upon their wise adjustment?Must hang progression's fate.
Cold are the truths of science,?Lifeless their every plan,?Until in living presence,?They're crystalized in man.
As hidden truths are useless?And aid not human skill,?So slumber mighty forces?Through lack of human will.
To know the right is not enough,?It must be given power?Through culture of the heart and soul,?If it shall blessings shower.
To State, to manhood and to God?Must mind be wholly given,?Ere truth will shine a beacon light,?To illumine earth and heaven.
All things were made but to subserve?Man's powers to improve,?And beautify his being here?Through charity and love.
Power, gold, and wealth are agencies?Placed in a creature's hand?To serve an end, but not to rule,--?Obey, but not command.
As mind and soul matter surpass?And error flies from truth,?So should we train the nobler parts?Of plastic, trusting youth.
The sacred man by God ordained,?Links sinful earth with heaven,?But his success oft must depend?On how instruction's given.
The holy task of training mind?Is not a trivial thing,?Its influence lives, grows and expands?Till harvest it shall bring.
No task, to human hands assigned,?Excels in force and weight?The grave responsibilities?Of those who educate.
Let knowledge of the sciences,?Skill in didactic art,?Power in the impulse of the soul?A knowledge to impart,
A love for God and human kind,?Forgetfulness of self,?A heart devoted to the cause?More than to worldly pelf,
Be given as a heritage?To those who fain would teach,?Then living truth shall flourish,?And all mankind shall reach.

There's an ebb and flow of sentiment?In educational tides,?Which oft discards some solid old facts,?And on wild new hobbies rides.?The educator of modern times?Must prove the false and the true,?Hold fast the worthy of the old,?Unprejudiced, test the new.
COURAGE