When Day is Done | Page 2

of it?Find us down here;?Life must be what we make of it.
Life is a song;?Dance to the thrill of it.?Grief's hours are long,?And cold is the chill of it.?Joy is man's need;?Let us smile for the sake of it.?This be our creed:?Life must be what we make of it.
Life is a soul;?The virtue and vice of it,?Strife for a goal,?And man's strength is the price of it.?Your life and mine,?The bare bread and the cake of it?End in this line:?Life must be what we make of it.
What We Need
We were settin' there an' smokin' of our pipes, discussin' things, Like licker, votes for wimmin, an' the totterin'thrones o' kings, When he ups an' strokes his whiskers with his hand an' says t'me: "Changin' laws an' legislatures ain't, as fur as I can see, Goin' to make this world much better, unless somehow we can Find a way to make a better an' a finer sort o' man.
"The trouble ain't with statutes or with systems--not at all; It's with humans jest like we air an' their petty ways an' small. We could stop our writin' law-books an' our regulatin' rules If a better sort of manhood was the product of our schools. For the things that we air needin' ain't no writin' from a pen Or bigger guns to shoot with, but a bigger typeof men.
"I reckon all these problems air jest ornery like the weeds. They grow in soil that oughta nourish only decent deeds,?An' they waste our time an' fret us when, if we were thinkin' straight An' livin' right, they wouldn't be so terrible an' great.?A good horse needs no snaffle, an' a good man, I opine,?Doesn't need a law to check him or to force him into line.
"If we ever start in teachin' to our children, year by year, How to live with one another, there'll be less o' trouble here. If we'd teach 'em how to neighbor an' to walk in honor's ways, We could settle every problem which the mind o' man can raise. What we're needin' isn't systems or some regulatin' plan,?But a bigger an' a finer an' a truer type o' man."
A Boy and His Dad
A boy and his dad on a fishing-trip--?There is a glorious fellowship!?Father and son and the open sky?And the white clouds lazily drifting by,?And the laughing stream as it runs along?With the clicking reel like a martial song,?And the father teaching the youngster gay?How to land a fish in the sportsman's way.
I fancy I hear them talking there?In an open boat, and the speech is fair;?And the boy is learning the ways of men?From the finest man in his youthful ken.?Kings, to the youngster, cannot compare?With the gentle father who's with him there.?And the greatest mind of the human race?Not for one minute could take his place.
Which is happier, man or boy??The soul of the father is steeped in joy,?For he's finding out, to his heart's delight,?That his son is fit for the future fight.?He is learning the glorious depths of him,?And the thoughts he thinks and his every whim,?And he shall discover, when night comes on,?How close he has grown to his little son.
A boy and his dad on a fishing-trip--?Oh, I envy them, as I see them there?Under the sky in the open air,?For out of the old, old long-ago?Come the summer days that I used to know,?When I learned life's truths from my father's lips?As I shared the joy of his fishing-trips--?Builders of life's companionship!
If I Had Youth
If I had youth I'd bid the world to try me;?I'd answer every challenge to my will.?And though the silent mountains should defy me,?I'd try to make them subject to my skill.?I'd keep my dreams and follow where they led me;?I'd glory in the hazards which abound.?I'd eat the simple fare privations fed me,?And gladly make my couch upon the ground.
If I had youth I'd ask no odds of distance,?Nor wish to tread the known and level ways.?I'd want to meet and master strong resistance,?And in a worth-while struggle spend my days.?I'd seek the task which calls for full endeavor;?I'd feel the thrill of battle in my veins.?I'd bear my burden gallantly, and never?Desert the hills to walk on common plains.
If I had youth no thought of failure lurking?Beyond to-morrow's dawn should fright my soul.?Let failure strike--it still should find me working?With faith that I should some day reach my goal.?I'd dice with danger--aye!--and glory in it;?I'd make high stakes the purpose of my throw.?I'd risk for much, and should I fail to win it,?I would not ever whimper at the blow.
If I had youth no chains of fear should bind me;?I'd brave the heights which older men must shun.?I'd leave the well-worn lanes of life behind me,?And seek to do what men have never done.?Rich prizes wait