Poems of Cheer | Page 4

the great.
The mountain-peaks stand very near to God:

The chosen few whose feet have trod thereon
Have talked with Him,
and with the angels walked.
Here are no sounds of discord--no profane
Or senseless gossip of
unworthy things -
Only the songs of chisels and of pens,
Of busy
brushes, and ecstatic strains
Of souls surcharged with music most
divine.
Here is no idle sorrow, no poor grief
For any day or object
left behind -
For time is counted precious, and herein
Is such
complete abandonment of Self
That tears turn into rainbows, and
enhance
The beauty of the land where all is fair.
Awed and afraid, I
cross the border-land.
Oh, who am I, that I dare enter here
Where
the great artists of the world have trod -
The genius-crowned
aristocrats of Earth?
Only the singer of a little song;
Yet loving Art
with such a mighty love
I hold it greater to have won a place
Just
on the fair land's edge, to make my grave,
Than in the outer world of
greed and gain
To sit upon a royal throne and reign.
WORTH WHILE
It is easy enough to be pleasant
When life flows by like a song,
But the man worth while is the one
who will smile
When everything goes dead wrong.
For the test of the heart is trouble,
And it always comes with the years,
And the smile that is worth the
praises of earth
Is the smile that shines through tears.
It is easy enough to be prudent
When nothing tempts you to stray,
When without or within no voice

of sin
Is luring your soul away;
But it's only a negative virtue
Until it is tried by fire,
And the life that is worth the honour on earth
Is the one that resists desire.
By the cynic, the sad, the fallen,
Who had no strength for the strife,
The world's highway is cumbered
to-day -
They make up the sum of life;
But the virtue that conquers passion,
And the sorrow that hides in a smile -
It is these that are worth the
homage on earth,
For we find them but once in a while.
THE HOUSE OF LIFE
All wondering, and eager-eyed, within her portico
I made my plea to
Hostess Life, one morning long ago.
"Pray show me this great house of thine, nor close a single door; But let
me wander where I will, and climb from floor to floor!
For many rooms, and curious things, and treasures great and small
Within your spacious mansion lie, and I would see them all."
Then Hostess Life turned silently, her searching gaze on me, And with
no word, she reached her hand, and offered up the key.
It opened first the door of Hope, and long I lingered there, Until I spied
the room of Dreams, just higher by a stair.
And then a door whereon the one word "Happiness" was writ;
But

when I tried the little key I could not make it fit.
It turned the lock of Pleasure's room, where first all seemed so bright -

But after I had stayed awhile it somehow lost its light.
And wandering down a lonely hall, I came upon a room
Marked
"Duty," and I entered it--to lose myself in gloom.
Along the shadowy halls I groped my weary way about,
And found
that from dull Duty's room, a door of Toil led out.
It led out to another door, whereon a crimson stain
Made sullenly
against the dark these words: "The Room of Pain."
But oh the light, the light, the light, that spilled down from above And
upward wound, the stairs of Faith, right to the Tower of Love!
And when I came forth from that place, I tried the little key - And lo!
the door of Happiness swung open, wide and free.
A SONG OF LIFE
In the rapture of life and of living,
I lift up my heart and rejoice,
And I thank the great Giver for giving
The soul of my gladness a voice.
In the glow of the glorious weather,
In the sweet-scented, sensuous air,
My burdens seem light as a
feather -
They are nothing to bear.
In the strength and the glory of power,
In the pride and the pleasure of wealth
(For who dares dispute me my
dower

Of talents and youth-time and health?),
I can laugh at the world and
its sages -
I am greater than seers who are sad,
For he is most wise in all ages
Who knows how to be glad.
I lift up my eyes to Apollo,
The god of the beautiful days,
And my spirit soars off like a swallow,
And is lost in the light of its rays.
Are you troubled and sad? I
beseech you
Come out of the shadows of strife -
Come out in the sun while I teach
you
The secret of life.
Come out of the world--come above it -
Up over its crosses and graves,
Though the green earth is fair and I