Poems of Cheer | Page 5

love it,
We must love it as masters, not slaves.
Come up where the dust never
rises -
But only the perfume of flowers -
And your life shall be glad with
surprises
Of beautiful hours.
Come up where the rare golden wine is
Apollo distills in my sight,
And your life shall be happy as mine is,
And as full of delight.
PRAYER

I do not undertake to say
That literal answers come from Heaven,
But I know this--that when I
pray
A comfort, a support is given
That helps me rise o'er earthly things

As larks soar up on airy wings.
In vain the wise philosopher
Points out to me my fabric's flaws,
In vain the scientists aver
That "all things are controlled by laws."
My life has taught me day by
day
That it availeth much to pray.
I do not stop to reason out
The why and how. I do not care,
Since I know this, that when I doubt,
Life seems a blackness of despair,
The world a tomb; and when I trust,

Sweet blossoms spring up in the dust.
Since I know in the darkest hour,
If I lift up my soul in prayer,
Some sympathetic, loving Power
Sends hope and comfort to me there.
Since balm is sent to ease my
pain,
What need to argue or explain?
Prayer has a sweet, refining grace,
It educates the soul and heart.
It lends a lustre to the face,
And by its elevating art
It gives the mind an inner sight
That brings
it near the Infinite.
From our gross selves it helps us rise

To something which we yet may be.
And so I ask not to be wise,
If thus my faith is lost to me.
Faith, that with angel's voice and touch

Says, "Pray, for prayer availeth much."
IN THE LONG RUN
In the long run fame finds the deserving man.
The lucky wight may prosper for a day,
But in good time true merit
leads the van
And vain pretence, unnoticed, goes its way.
There is no Chance, no
Destiny, no Fate,
But Fortune smiles on those who work and wait,
In the long run.
In the long run all godly sorrow pays,
There is no better thing than righteous pain,
The sleepless nights, the
awful thorn-crowned days,
Bring sure reward to tortured soul and brain.
Unmeaning joys
enervate in the end,
But sorrow yields a glorious dividend
In the long run.
In the long run all hidden things are known,
The eye of truth will penetrate the night,
And good or ill, thy secret
shall be known,
However well 'tis guarded from the light.
All the unspoken motives
of the breast
Are fathomed by the years and stand confess'd
In the long run.

In the long run all love is paid by love,
Though undervalued by the hosts of earth;
The great eternal
Government above
Keeps strict account and will redeem its worth.
Give thy love freely;
do not count the cost;
So beautiful a thing was never lost
In the long run.
AS YOU GO THROUGH LIFE
Don't look for the flaws as you go through life;
And even when you find them,
It is wise and kind to be somewhat
blind,
And look for the virtue behind them;
For the cloudiest night has a
hint of light
Somewhere in its shadows hiding;
It's better by far to hunt for a star,
Than the spots on the sun abiding.
The current of life runs ever away
To the bosom of God's great ocean.
Don't set your force 'gainst the
river's course,
And think to alter its motion.
Don't waste a curse on the universe,
Remember, it lived before you;
Don't butt at the storm with your
puny form,
But bend and let it go o'er you.
The world will never adjust itself

To suit your whims to the letter,
Some things must go wrong your
whole life long,
And the sooner you know it the better.
It is folly to fight with the
Infinite,
And go under at last in the wrestle.
The wiser man shapes into God's
plan,
As water shapes into a vessel.
TWO SUNSETS
In the fair morning of his life,
When his pure heart lay in his breast,
Panting, with all that wild
unrest
To plunge into the great world's strife
That fills young hearts with mad desire,
He saw a sunset. Red and gold
The burning billows surged and rolled,

And upward tossed their caps of fire.
He looked. And as he looked, the sight
Sent from his soul through breast and brain
Such intense joy, it hurt
like pain.
His heart seemed bursting with delight.
So near the Unknown seemed, so close
He might have grasped it with his hands
He felt his inmost soul
expand,
As sunlight will expand a rose
One day he heard a singing strain -
A human voice, in bird-like trills.
He paused, and little rapture-rills

Went trickling downward through each vein.

And in his heart the whole day long,
As in a temple veiled and dim,
He kept and bore about with him

The beauty of that