LIBRARY OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY PRINCETON. N. J. Presented by * 2)V^e, Ow^VV, or. Division... £2..55'0f Section.«.QA.Q. / 3 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2019 with funding from Princeton Theological Seminary Library https://archive.org/details/waytoeternalOOcoll I. R. T. THE WAY TO THE ETERNAL by , CLINTON W. COLLIER Truth Is Immortal "On Earth Peace, Good Will Toward Men." PUBLISHED BY C. W. COLLIER, NASHVILLE, TENN. COPYRIGHT, 1923, C. W. COLLIER DEDICATION I dedicate these lines to Jesus, the Christ, To whom I owe all that l am, and have; And to make Him King of the hearts of the race, Is the aim I am seeking to move; If I can help some distraught soul, Or lead some sinner to get a release, There will be glory when we reach the goal, For my Lord, who brought the increase. TABLE OF CONTENTS PAGE Introduction . 7 The Victorious Nightmare . 9 A Strange Courtship . 33 The Triumphant Concord . 115 The Judgment . 180 Conclusion . 220 The Way to the Eternal 7 INTRODUCTION Every man has the right to live; He has the right to serve and grow; These rights are inalienable from God, And all just men desire it so. Humanity in every walk of life, Sometimes gets away from the truth; They live for selfish ends and aims, When service should be the aim of youth. The mind leads the man on his way, And taken with the purpose of the heart, Purified by the aim to serve our day, Fail not to give happiness on their part. No matter what service you do; Whether farmer, banker, or other need; Give others what ye would they give you, And your life shall begin to gain speed. You may be a capitalist, owning things, You can see that the power you wield Gives honest service for the income it brings, And leaves no wounded on the field. If you are a merchant selling goods. You can see that your goods are understood; If you are a lawyer selling advice, You can know that your advice is good. If there be anything wrong in your life, Keep this thought in your mind evermore: If you are sick or unhappy, your children or wife, “If thou doest not well, sin lieth at the door.” As humans get out of the way, And know not what course to take, We have written these lines, Aiming to help them correct their mistake. We have divided it into three parts; The first is a business man, 8 The Way to the Eternal Who lost his way in life’s battle, And was losing for lack of a plan. The second is a young business man, Who put all his soul in the fight, First making sure of his course, That his battle was one with the right; With him associates a woman, As pure as God would have her be, Who bore her share of the victory, And wore the crown for all to see. We broadened their actions enough To include a few of their deeds, Hoping the picture for an example, Might answer some one’s needs. The third is a similar couple, With a small difference of circumstance, With their additional counterparts, Associated in life’s song and dance. They fight a good fight and win, And we follow them across the bar, Showing of punishment and reward, A portion of things that are. Our great Father, and Infinite Love, Will be with us if we try; Calling upon Him without ceasing, Determined the good fight to win, or die; Never doubt but that you will win; God Himself must go down to lose; As His promise is under you, If you doubt Him, Him you abuse. Put all you are, have, or expect in God, And cast off on His love; Fearing not death, it is not hard to die, When you die to win a home above. Fortify yourself for battle! There is trouble ahead for us all; Unless you get a good grip on your Maker, You are sure to catch a falL The Way to the Eternal 9 THE VICTORIOUS NIGHTMARE. I Frank Goodwin is a merchant prince. Full of courage, and of wide renown, But the cares and confusion of troublous times, Like a mighty load are bearing him down. The book-keeper is presenting a list, Of defaulters to proceed against; The credit man is pressing an order Of six figures in dollars, he fears to resist; The credit of the purchaser is excellent. Still it is mostly on credit that he does exist; The purchasing agent is striving to know How deeply to buy imported merchandise, While the tariffs impending would tax The combined ingenuity of the wise. When the day is finally ended, And to sleep he seeks to retire, His mind is full of foreboding, As if his brain were on fire. As he drifts away into slumber, His rest is haunted writh a load. As a dilapidated farm wagon Jolting over a rocky road. II He halts to gaze at a spectre, Approaching on the crest of the hill; He is girded with a burden of a flying wedge; As Mercury he flies, some mission to fulfill. 10 The Way to the Eternal Ho! Sir, your name? From whence and whither bent? Your haste and manner would indicate You are for some service sent. He halts, he gazes, He would look me through! Apparently you do not see me? I am standing in front of you. Ill My name you need not, Since with each task assigned, A new name is given, To each matter that I give my mind. Time and space were wedded, The hour I began my being; And to assist in their contriving, I am now this way pursuing. The burden you see, is not a burden to me, But reward for service done; And may be used for any account, To finish any service I am sent upon. IV Since time has mellowed you, And your name you do not tell, I will name you for your work here The simple name of MeL Perhaps you are bound for Gomorrah, A census of the righteous to take; And to compass the righting of defects, Before worse trouble they make. Or perchance you are meting justice, To offenders of law divine; To restore to the widow her dowry; Or to malcontents add a fine. The Way to the Eternal 11 I am overborne with misfortune, Of losses on teas and sox; And restless employes; Carriers demanding a better box. There is too much tariff on some things; Mostly the things that I buy; The things I sell it’s too low, But everything else is too high. My corns and bunions are hurting me; And my digestion is bad too; I lie awake night and worry, Trying to sort the false from the true. My church gives me no assistance; And when I pray I get no reply; And when I go to hear Sunday sermon, All I hear is get ready to die. I want to live and be happy; I do not want to quit this game; There is a lot to do if we only run true, And do not incline too much to fame; My face is filling with wrinkles; My hair is all coming out; My teeth are gone; the days are long; And I am threatened with gout. V Don’t wail to me of your misfortune; That is all written on your face; You have the same disease the others have; I find it in every race. Be not so faithless, or sorrowful; Look around at others and smile; Many a man is buried in a little hole face down. Who thinks it as deep as a mile. Life is a thing of motion, And the vortex of the mind is the thing, That enables individuals to know their friends, 12 The Way to the Eternal And empowers a ruler to be king. The power of universal induction Draws humanity pole to pole; And the love of reproduction, Binds them soul to soul. All things lead to order, If time and place are in accord; But man’s will against the Infinite, Obstructs His holy word. I note that you have deposited your treasure, In a place of such renown, That when the mountebanks howl a measure, Your fortitude is soon thrown down; Know ye that goods and chattels, Are only events of the day, And should be put to service, And dispel unrest away. As for tariffs and tricksters, The weak fear the strong, And strive in their building To fortify against imaginary wrong. When coupled in holy union, The masculine soul called right, Has for its fair sweetheart, That wonderful power called might, There is no need of truncheon To guard enemies from the gate, As fear and all discomfort, Will at the horizon wait. When souls of humans selfish. With the knavish disease called fear. Seek to wrench from the hand of time, Some inconsequential ware. Without rendering true service, For the ware they would keep and use. It is the beginning of trouble, For all who would thus abuse. The Way to the Eternal 13 To the master, who from his servant, Would command greater labor than the hire, Shall receive instead of his labor, The services of a slacker acquire. He loses the confidence and service. Of the honest in his employ; And they seek in their fight for subsistence, Their enemy to destroy. In the heart of the dishonest master, Is planted the seed of mistrust. And as like unto like begetteth, The wife and children begin rust; Until evil on evil is added, And white becomes black as hell; In the end the result is the same. To all who do falsely tell. The servant who lies in bed later. Or too long lingers over the broth, Begins to be infected with evils unnumbered, By this violation of nature’s troth. There are a million ways to do one thing, And one way to do all things best; It behooves us to choose the way wisely, And with vigilance eschew all the rest. Honor to honor is plighted, As much in the man as the maid; Business should have the same integrity, In dealing with any race or shade; Your corns and aches are but warnings, Yelling by nature’s voice, That you are in bad with your Maker, And should withdraw and mend your choice; If your prayers are going unanswered, And your church is but a place to sleep, Your conscience badly needs half-soling; And your heart should be probed deep. Sir, your sins are appalling! When you seek to carry them through, 14 The Way to the Eternal Death is waiting with a potion, To ease the burden too heavy for you. In seeking to lengthen your sordid life, You desire what you know not what you do; But the wisdom of an all-wise Creator, Has prepared to make all lives new. Come now, we’ll consider your matter, And perhaps, to keep the garment whole, We will make a few stitches, And leave your decision in control. When once order is in disorder, Ends become without end; All prevented might be, If you from wisdom decision send; Disaster follows disaster, As the night the sun; Then let wisdom’s light shine, Before the darkness has begun. VI Friend Mel, I perceive thou leadest me, Out of this dark haze; So let us to the garden, And take a glimpse of nature’s ways; To me these flowers are beautiful; And I love those singing birds; I love the brooklet’s rippling note, More than I can say in words. See yon beautiful maple, And how it drinks the air; It seems all nature is full Of children, wonderfully fair; The mosses on the brooklet’s bank. How delicately they hang, Just like they were taught to do, Before from the earth they sprang; The glooomy owl hiding in the tree, The Way to the Eternal 15 With his feathers like shaggy mane; Goes out at night to watch without light; With the sun, he hides in this ravine; How beautiful the thrush’s trilling note, As he sings on the elder bush; When I look at him I like no bird, Like the beautiful brown thrush. How can I evermore in the factory, Be so harsh with the girl at her sewing, After seeing the way nature does, And watching the farmer do his mowing; Or, if ever I speak again To my stenographer words shorter than a coo, I’ll straight come to the park and see, How the squirrels and chipmunks do. At the bank when a customer comes seeking a loan, And his credit is not what it should be, I’ll talk so fond in denying him, He will be glad he was denied by me; And when out driving and a tire Goes punctured, down with a slam, I’ll think of the happy little beaver, When the freshet breaks out his dam; He goes to work to mend it, As happy as he can be it seems; If I could be that happy always, I would pray for rain in my dreams. The eagle builds her nest away, High up on a mounain top, Where nothing that molests will ever be, When she is raising her little crop; The eagle is not a regular fellow, With his long claws and beak; When I choose a friend among the birds, I’ll choose one of these, so weak. Tell me, dear Mel, in your scything way, Let nothing unworthy escape your blade, 16 The Way to the Eternal What lias been wrong with me so long, That I have spent my life in the shade? Seeing not the beauties of the lilies, Or smelling the fragrance of the rose; Loving not, affecting not, those treasures, Even as a pagan or heathen does. VII You were born without mundane riche9, For which you have thanks to pay; And you lacked example and precept, To hedge you in the righteous way; You learned early the edge of poverty. Is not a thing to love and embrace, And your fight to get away from it, Cost you much in munificent grace; Because of that reason developed lop-sided, And according to the laws of the realm, You describe an eccentric circle, As steered by this lop-sided helm; Environment was not unbending. And often gave a valuable leave, Together with induction from heaven, Drew you to friends prepared to receive. So life’s impulse, braced by such helping. Sent you bounding through youth. Onward to a maturing young man, A ready and receptive votary to truth; Reason began ranging for conquest, And taking stock of the field in view, You chose to wage incessant battle, For possession of the good things you knew. In this you were not altogether, Devoted to acquiring of pelf; But the lack of a questioning conscience, Gave excessive devotion to self. Your wife rather envious of others, Lent her force to urging you on; The Way to the Eternal 17 Seeing only the tinsel and laces. Abetted by the rabble and song; Into your world came children, With ego to magnify your need; You lost all sense of proportion, Giving only your carnal self meed. Resistance of all kinds was raging. Governed by laws of their kind; Your life blood got badly entangled. You must get out now and re-wind; As the hack and sizzle of fortune, Has damaged and cut many a thread; And floating a derelict on life’s ocean, You are wounded among the dead. Shuck off every un-noble emotion; Enthrall every cumbering care; And stripped to the sinews for action, Make firm resolution to share All your being with the Infinite; Leave not one thought from His grill; Accepting all pleasant and unpleasant; Waiting until He your soul shall fill; Then you are ready for victory; No enemy shall too fierce be to fight; And when your field is well conquered, Enjoy it with the forces of right. Your field may be digging or damming; Or spinning, or hauling, or sea; No matter what be vour endeavor, Right protected always should be; And when through the ages impending, You feel you have finished your day, Sit down and rest from your labor, With your friends in a conqueror’s way. Life is not long in the winning; Indeed, short, if we count truth in; Sometimes fierce when the battle is raging, But happiness forever when we win. 18 The Way to the Eternal This fight is no place for cowards; We must place our whole soul on the scales; When we’re weighed we’ll not be found wanting; It is only the cheater who fails. vin Mel, I believe your message, And accept it with all my heart, But my wife is not a believer, And from her I loathe to part. IX Sir, truth is the main thing to marry; All others should be ranged thereabout; Just seek to uphold integrity, Your wife’s fears will soon put to rout. If we would be perfect, We must live altogether in God; Not by Him, or near Him, But like a pea in a pod. One center hath all this vast universe in Him; Wherever light doth go. His spirit there doth dwell; And though Satan is king below, Still God is master of hell; His will is the law of all spaces; In all matter or energy there is no loss; He sets the bounds of the universe, And a Wave of light dare not cross; Throughout all this vastness, The weight of a single hair, Displaced from the place where it now is, Would adjust to the new place when there; The millions of suns that are pumping, Their light forever afar, Through gravitation all is returned, To the least, to the greatest star. The Way to the Eternal 19 X Mel, will you walk with me in this prison? And after that the banquet hall? Every one knows that as the world goes, There may be an eminence for a fall. XI First let me leave my treasure With the warden at the gate, Lest I be struck with compassion, And depopulate this criminal state. We will look the prisoners over Authority has incarcerated here, And see what measure of judgment Has set this state on fire. This is a place of sorrow, If justice has been done, As each must remain to punish, Until their guilt is all gone. Here is a stolid murderer, Who spilt his brother’s blood. That he might gain possession Of gold, and a few acres of mud; Let him serve his sentence; Too light is he thus let down; But justice tempered with mercy, Becomes him who wears a crown: This man with the crooked jaw, Is here for robbing the mail; Ah, let him work out the price He would have gained by his tale: This man is here it seems For peddling vicious rum; Let him serve all his time, The world is well rid of such scum: This brother is confined here For killing a man in his rage; For one moment’s loss of temper 20 The Way to the Eternal He shall spend ten years in a cage; Clemency might well be extended to him, Since in sorrow he doth pine; As no doubt the dead man was largely to blame, For the rage that stopped his time. Look! Here is a poor woman Put here for stealing a loaf of bread; Shame on the state and the umpire, That should have assisted her instead; This young roisterer is impounded For violating a maiden’s wealth; The poor fellow was born unlucky, And is lacking in spiritual health. Though some in these walls are more punished, Than the violation they made should decree; And many there be who were let off, With a sentence lighter than should be; Still, vastness moves slow and clumsily, And justice as an act of the state, May not always meet justice exactly, But strikes out an average rate. Those free who are striving to disorder The organized plan of the land, Foolishly do not know that in doing so, These here at the top would soon stand. Let the mill of state keep grinding, And the touch of a hand of love, Be placed so that from wrecked humanity, A measure of salvage may resolve. There are a few in here who might be out, And no doubt will be, if they learn grace; But many who are still outside unaccused, Should be manacled down in this place. XII We shall row look over the banquet hall, And since I am visible to you alone, We’ll take the measure of faces, The Way to the Eternal 21 And see what your enemies have done. The banquet is at its height, And the dancers are adding festivities on; The host will think it a success, When the last of the guests are gone. See this old grub-staking villain, With whiskers half way down his jaws; He cared naught for those that he helped, Except that he might get them in his paws; Many the man he has sent forth, With hope rising high in the east, Only to find himself cast down again, When he learns his friend is a beast. Fortune is fair, but fickle, And those who lean on her arm. Must take the full measure of drubbing, Who needlessly discount all harm. With wine smuggled in here stealthily, They gorge themselves to the hilt; On that belly full of abomination Sometimes great castles are built; The banker will promise his client, With a smile that almost rings true, That he will back him to the limit, In the things he is about to do; The politician will look on the widow. Of an old colleague and say, I will help you get that appointment. And forget her before he is on his w T ay; The social leader deigns to nod To the climber with a smile. And may allow informalities, If the gold is big enough pile; In fact, they all seem friendly; The dogs and cats, and ewes; But hell breaks loose in the morrow. When they’ve had time to read the news. See the girls, how they dance, so loving, Full of vim and expectant youth; 22 The Way to the Eternal Ever trusting and never doubting. All he says is but the truth. When hearts meet over the decanter. The river of life runs high, And promises slip out without measure, Only to take root, bud and die. Prolific is the word of the monster, And all things are possible for the hour, But oh, how sad it makes the morning, When they wake, full of unchastened power. The young man waits for wealth, lingering. Hoping against hope the old man will die; Ever fretting of his meagre allowance, At times too melancholy to cry. It is a sad state of dominion, If this capitol rules the world, As reason against reason is lacking, And from the pedestal of fate may be hurled; But these are only the idlers; Shirkers on the ship of state; Pray God that better men than these, Shall be at the helm, at any rate. This lecherous fat-headed lubber, Controls a half-million gold; And were a chronicle of his ambition made, It would be too much to behold; He thinks all women are strumpets, And expects to have the best always; His gold cannot do what he thinks, But that rope of sand holds his days. For gowns and jewelry, and finery, He has holpen many foolish women down; After they have spent their living, They jump off the bridge and drown. The woman that serves under him, And holds her virtue still. Is made of a higher order, Than he himself can fill. The Way to the Eternal 23 XIII Anyway, it is all in the making, Of one of these modern days; The fact the sun sets in the evening, Means nothing in the modernist’s ways; Let us not be forlorn and saddened, By the sights we now see; Scattered through the marts of service, Men and women are what they should be. Virtue needs no banker; Her reward she carries in her hand; And no man need apologize. For the things that by her stand. When she sets forth in the morning. Her measure of toil to do, There is no sleepy feeling holding her; She has her courage to see her through. In her eyes there is a glow of sunshine, Not like that reflected by the moon; She is a woman made for the daytime, And her heart sings a merry tune; Her employer, a man of sanity. Finds never a fault or a fear, And in his heart he regards her, As a creature of God, most dear; He looks at her with a fondness, That you might think more than a friend, But his own dear wife and babies, Claim her for their God-send. He lias a brother Charley, That he loves as himself, as true; He says to him when visiting, Did you see Mary looking at you? In ways, without their seeming, He makes brother to believe, In Mary’s worth and goodness, And prepares her to receive, 24 The Way to the Eternal His heart and hand in wedlock. And from his soul lays on, A blessing so rich with gladness, That the goodness is never gone. So the state goes on; Sin dies when his day is done, But love planted in such a bosom, After a thousand years, is just begun. XIV Mel, what becomes of these loafers, Who play their game and lose? Their sins are like the mountains; Their wrongs they dare not excuse. XV Hell is a place for those whose works Are unholy, or finished not at all, And were it not for such a place, The universe would fall. All who in life’s living, Through carelessness or ill. Neglect to meet their promise, Or do wrong with a will, At the time of judgment, To them shall tasks be given, Which cease they cannot to perform, Until they have fully striven; This credit when it is earned, Is due to the man, Who received the wrongs, Before the judgment began; Thus treasures are laid up in heaven, For those who patiently work, Receiving nothing of reward, But never a moment to shirk. The Way to the Eternal 25 For instance, my good friend Angle, Being sent by the king, Into a far savage country, Some service of value to bring; He took neither scrip nor money, Nor credentials on his way; As the king in that land was denied. No method of homage could he pay. Setting to work for king and self, He established himself in their regard, And with this credit he began, Their enmity to retard. Time flies and things move on; No fitter could be found, So ever on the wing, His prestige was gaining ground; Until at the final time, When all tribes could but agree, He was the fittest to rule, Ruler of all he should be. When his work was complete, And his lieutenants were up-stood, He leaves all things there, And presents the king his good. Now what think ye a king As noble as he should do, To reward a servant’s faith, As our dear Angle did do? This king could not afford A servant greater than himself to be; So he moves over, And says reign here with me. But Angle, great and noble, Of course could not permit, Himself to be exalted to equal His master in every whit. 26 The Way to the Eternal XVI Mel, what of the man who went to hell, After he had paid the last mite? When the evil is all made good, Does he then revert to the right? XVII A soul when lost at judgment, Does of no credit possess; Since if it had aught to pay, The wrong than the right would be less. Hell is a thing of condition, Rather than of a place; And the process is one of oblivion, Rather than vengeance by grace. When in the course of the ages, The last account comes in, The original living impulse returns, To the ancestors for original sin; So past is wedded to present, And the begetter to the begot; Thus through inverse ratios of time, The sinner is; still he is not. When in life an entity, Would change his estate, No sooner resolved than granted, To his new being he doth mate. He who would thus mend himself, Should take into account. That this new estate requires good deeds, To fill full the new amount. It is better to remain in low quarters, Than on ambition’s high decree, To rise to heights immortal, Where unmaintained, we cease to be. So Lucifer would be a ruler, The Way to the Eternal 27 And wished himself dominions wide; While God took not aw r ay his ambition. In hell he is forced to abide. XVIII Mel, how know we there be a God? How can we certainly know of his existence? Can you tell me some sure evidence, Of His personal persistence? XIX Oh, faithless and doubting man, Do you not have eyes that see? Your hands, your tongue, the world around, All in all agree, proclaim that He be. The creature is evidence of a Creator; Unless you greatly miss the mark, You will see the building the life of man, Is more than accident in the dark. Energy cannot but be in one place, So when it leaves the sun, It is absorbed by some plant or flower; One step of its journey is done; From everything of beauty, The infinite eye is looking at you; A flower, a bird, or the eye of a woman; Your own heart records all that you do; There is being written as a wave on a coast. The acts of the great concord; When all is summed up, each receives, A punishment, or a reward; In every honest heart, The ear of God is hidden; So when you go a wooing, Speak nothing that is forbidden. Thus from point to point, from act to act, As from the sun to the flower, The hand of God reaches out and grips you, 28 The Way to the Eternal And nothing can ever escape His power. The Creator’s hand is seen so oft, And so perfect is His nerve, We think that is the only way it can be, And from such course it cannot swerve; True, that is a fact which He has made, And which would have been otherwise, But that He made it thus, and thus, And in His will the secret lies. When He wants anything accomplished here, He speaks in the terms of men, Sending His word in the form of a man; No matter how hard the task, he will begin. Music is the voice of the spirit; Sometimes God that language speaks, And stirs nations with a song, His will on the earth to wreak. This language is spoken by the birds, And who will question the thought, That they are praising any other name, Than that they were by nature taught? In heredity we know that the law, Requires the infant its parents to show; Therefore man’s soul in strict obedience, Is striving nature’s laws to know. The Lord looked through the rainbow’s arc, And saw the world steeped in sin, All putrid and rotten, Eaten up from within; After His vexation, Which wrecked the lot of man, He resolved in His heart of sorrow, Not to look that way again; Before that time the earth was hot, And no rainbow had been seen, A9 the seas were not all gathered then; Waters covered the heavens like a screen; The Way to the Eternal 29 The heat from below grew lacking, And the waters above increased, Until the clouds broke up with a cracking, And all but eight souls were deceased. Some seek God in the earthquake, But that is not where He lives; He lives only with the living; Like the sun, He always gives; He tasted death at Golgotha, And since then He has not been of a mind, To return to that form of tasting. Of the tumultuous affairs of mankind; But when love’s full dispensation, Has been spent, and He lets justice flow, There will be a jubilee in heaven, But a full measure of hell here below. The proofs of a mighty Creator Are so numerous on every side, That it is harder to believe that He is not. Daily are we o’erwhelmed by the tide. XX His kingdom shall live forever, And let none but bastards hold out, That God is not our father, And we are all sons, without doubt. The springtime of life is awakening; Eternity looms before us now; And we shall not have to die to taste it, With a Father’s countenance on our brow. After the night of blackness has passed, And on our reason the daylight appears, There shall be such an enlightening, Life shall not be measured in years; There shall be no need for professions; Doctors and lawyers will be out of date, 30 The Way to the Eternal With the system of conveying knowledge, Inducted in this super-state. All men will love their neighbors, For lawyers we’ll have no use; All people will obey the Creator, Then a physician would be an abuse; No need for courts or bosses; We shall all strive to do right; And no army or navy will be needed. As no one then will want to fight. No need for schools or books, As the system of learning will be All added through inductive reason, And no one need ask, for they can see; Not only will this process be perfect, But infinite knowledge at command, Will advise the particulars of any subject, To the lowliest servant in the land. All questions answered with pleasure, And all we have to do for reply, Is stop a moment and listen, To the voice like a whisper near by. All things come with the waiting, To those who are honest and true; Wait patiently then, and with meekness, For time to bring it to you; And while waiting keep working, Moving forward to meet your due; Receive it with gladness not doubting, And make yourself ready to deserve, As service will be free in all things, And all will be served as they serve. Machines may be had for all uses, Performing any feat, except to think; Build roads, bridges, or dig ditches, And may serve their own fuel and drink; Transmuting one element to another, The Way to the Eternal 31 As in building the base of a road, By burning a stone foundation, And rubber-coating the surface to suit the load. No need to haul material; With their method they use any kind, As weaving the finest garments, From such things as might be picked up by the blind. Two things are necessary in the process; Energy to raise the matter to tune, And a power magnetic to fix it, And render it from change immune. There is no danger of over-production. There will be uses for all they make; But no call will be unanswered, And no such thing as a mistake. XXI Mel, my heart is still doubting you; Tell me something about life; As for instance, what are dreams made of, And how do those people rule a wife? XXII All things that are true are practical. Only we should find their correct use; And that is the cause of all trouble, Misapplying something, with no excuse. Dreams we know do happen, And since you are asleep at the time, Some other force is the moving process, Maintained for thinking sublime; Thinking is a process of motion, Of energy in the cells of the brain. Which under the pressure of conscience, Makes arcs of the thought to retain; Awake this process goes on, Under the direction of the will. But asleep the action is another, 32 The Way to the Eternal As the conscience and the will are still; It may be a poisonous ember, Picked up by the blood down below; Or it may be some visiting spirit. With a warning to let you know. Dreams are not for mention, As they concern you alone; Though you may weigh their message, Do so without making the dream known. No wrong can come from a visitation, To those who love the Lord; To others they set up confusion, By shading the portent of their word. XXIII A wife is not ruled in perfection, As both are one in the main; What is profit for the husband, For the wife also is gain; Seek not to have dominion, Over her who is as you, And by love you can sway each other, To any course where love is true; Your wife and you should both, Keep within the heavenly law, And in measuring two sides of all questions, You will find it to be a draw. We might talk on here through the ages, About everything below the pole, But since you are about waking, I will hasten to further goal. I will hitch my shield to light, At the end of the night, And speed my course afar; To touch and gleam on every beam, Of yon distant star. The Way to the Eternal 33 A STRANGE COURTSHIP I I wish to ask a question. In all good faith of my mind: Why are there no virtuous men? At least, no mention of the kind? Of course I suppose there are a few, Though I cannot vouch a name. But if virtue is a thing to be desired, WTiy do not men set it up as an aim? If it be a fact that virtue is good, Then we are losing something worthwhile, And we should bring the subject out, And study it seriously, no humorous smile. What I started to tell, Is the story of Will Charlmain’s life, How he broke all precedents, In his attempt to win a wife; Will had that same trouble; He wondered why virtue is a monopoly of the women, And he had a suspicion too They rated it among fruit as a lemon; Now, I wonder if the pearl of greatest price Has been tossed about as a myth? Women possessing as a necessary evil, While men know little of its pith? What is it good for anyway? Things of value are not valued without worth; Some things of value give a noble service, While others produce a lot of mirth; I understand a woman got enough, To heal her after twelve years diseased, By touching the hem of a garment, And the hem was not altogether displeased; Another time it turned a lot of water into wine; Apparently the catalyst that goes between, It adjusts the desires of the possessor, 34 The Way to the Eternal To the outside world, like a machine. Do you suppose it could bring two people, Who each desired the other from afar, And join them together while yet strangers, Breaking down all resistances that bar? Will believed it could do that, And with satisfaction shine through the one possessed; Or if virtue is held in duress, The dissatisfaction would show it is stressed. But when Will went wooing, He had ways little known; His affections came forth in such volume No woman would call him her own. II At last there was Helen Gounode, A lady of mighty scorn, Who would not be won by any man, Not the rarest creature born; 'Helen was a woman of high spirits; Of worldly wisdom well fraught; And scorned with a devilish gesture, That every man could be bought; But like many things we all have seen, This casting without a care, Of unweighed words lacking tenderness, Of friends makes one bare. She grew into such a fashion, That she could not find a mark, For her barbed arrows to strike At this masculine shark; Thus in desperation, She was swamped with power, Of her own creation; Her soul could not rest an hour; This thing in her heart she had planted, Was filling her life with hate, The Way to the Eternal 35 And how to get rid of it? She was shocked to think it might be too late. Without friends and left alone, She tackled her unrest with rage, And like the conquering spirit, Never ceased the battle to wage. Since men thought her a termigant, They never gave her a smile, And often to keep from meeting her, Would walk around a mile. All her satire became silent, And waging her battle alone, She could not for her life hate men, Now that they were gone. Helen was made of courage, But fortune had taken a whet, And fitted her tongue with lashes, Where modesty should have been met. Taking stock of herself, Her womanly passions crowding within, She began listening to the voice of nature; Counting the wages and anguish of sin; She put her tongue to discipline, And in her maidenly way, Began her own chastisement. Hoping there would come a day; Some good man might have accident, And she would catch him down; Or perchance in the water, She might not let some one drown. She once was shrew at surface, But deep down in her heart. She knew she was pure and virtuous; And she pined for Cupid’s dart. , At times in the park she went moping; For women friends she cared not; J 36 The Way to the Eternal She had probably purchased a spinster estate, And about it she would not hear a lot. Once she went to the theatre, Picking out a man not a crook, She sat close up beside him, Observing with a shy look; Wondering if affections, without cheating, From a man and a stranger could be had; Then without further discerning, She drew away, feeling bad. 0 hell of hells, I’m descending, And where is the bottom of it all; I would rather be an angel in heaven, Than a poor woman after the fall; I will be myself, a woman unashamed; I’ll hold myself in or burst; And I’ll wait, and wait, and wait. To see whether a man or death comes first; While I wait I will be working, Preparing for the day, When love shall satisfy the hunger; I am not happy, but I will be gay. I have a job at the customs, And tomorrow I will begin; Today I will sit in the park awhile, And pray away my original sin; I will sit here among the roses, On this little bench with no back, And smile, and smile, and smile, And try to search out what I lack. Ill Will Charlmain has come to the city, And here in the park he strolls; Re-digesting his twenty-eight summers; Sometimes on the grass he rolls; Since he could not court one woman, The Way to the Eternal 37 And none undertook to court him, While many would look with longing, And wonder if he would come to them. Perhaps he is a little conceited, And because he is not accepted at his worth, He chills all those who would befriend him. And makes friendship well nigh dearth. Ambition fires him to show them. To work he goes with zeal; And though he began business on credit, His credit is now as the common weal. When success his efforts attended. Many females were ready to smile; His conceit turned their smiles to hypocrisy, Thinking they would money beguile. Down deep, Will is a jewel; As honesty weighs pure gold. So heavy obligations are wearing, All the conceit from his soul. He frequently stops, recounting, All the girls he might have had, Still he is not sure he is mistaken; And a horror he has for the bad. Of a fact, he does not know women; His acquaintance ne’er o’erreach their smile, And to think of being cheated in honor, To him is an exasperating trial. Still, his instinct tells him, That women are better than men; At any rate he feels they should be, Since nature requires it of them. For women of loose reputation, While he loves them in some part. He could not surrender his manhood, To indulge them heart to heart. Truth is a mighty corrector, 38 The Way to the Eternal And sometimes with vengeance wields his rod; Since truth with this man is held highly, He is fenced in and hedged with a guard; How can I if ever I marry, And get a woman good and true, Say to her that I have gone gayly, And also believe I am as good as you; If I do, and I am as good as you, Then pity the life I shall lead, Believing that some other gull, Is stealing away my feed; Since spirits of a kind are attracted, I will be what I want her to be; And then if God fails to lead me, I’ll disclaim all responsibility. I left the country and its pure air, Coming here a day to breathe smoke, And in this park I am roaming, Thinking only of a vine for my oak; I am tempted by these city strumpets, With their Bohemian rage and gall; I could spend the day with them, But conscience would surely let me fall. I am undone, and crestfallen, In this beautiful city with its charms, All for the lack of a female, To hold close in my arms. They are here to be had in plenty, But none are waiting for me, As I demand all integrity, That kind—me a stranger—holy gee! I will sit here in this bower of roses, And rest my tired feet; But my soul is more tired than body, And a sweetheart alone for it is mete. The lady, oh, see the lady! But she is looking the other way; The Way to the Eternal 39 Her hair, I am in love already; More beautiful until it turns gray; Just my size and complexion; Such a soft velvet skin; I could love that girl forever, And I am sure it would be no sin; She is smiling now; more beautiful; Such a lovely curve to her lips; I’ll bet in her eyes I can see heaven; Such excellent legs and hips. Too bad this foolish generation. Will not let me speak to her now; I am sure we could reach an understanding; I wonder what she would do if I bow? She keeps smiling, I wonder what for? Some lover, perchance; Oh no, that could not be; Any man would be here in a trance; I am the only man looking, Likely fate has made my choice; s I am in a trance as I should be, If I am her mate I will rejoice; I believe it’s a fact, she is lonely, And longing for some one, as I; I think I shall clasp her and kiss her, And tell her we’ll never say good-bye. Oh resolution, abet and defend me; If I fail in this endeavor and lose, I shall die a bachelor and lonely, If she with me does not choose; She looks at me, oh glory! She smiles and I smile too; She looks honest; she’s truthful, a virgin; Heaven has blest me, what shall I do? I’ll kiss her and apologize later; She is too good not to wait and hear; And I am sure, as I am honest, she will listen, And seal my bliss with her cheer. My dear, I know God has prepared you, 40 The Way to the Eternal For me, and me alone; (She resists not; she smiles, and I kiss her; She slaps me in a rage; calls me a villainous drone.) IV I’ll slap your face from your head. Taking advantage of my reverie; No gentleman would insult a lady in such manner; I will have you arrested for your incivility. V She went into the ladies’ rest house, And has not returned till dark; I hoped she would return with an officer; I should be glad to pay for my lark; I wall go home, and back to w r ork, And forget that she has lived; For mine she may not be proper, Still my soul from my body she has rived; Such a shock of emotions, I never thought a woman could give; My soul w r as filled with elation; That one kiss is something for which to live; Yet I must conquer ray passion; Exterminate every thought from my heart, And give my life to service, Living only to help others, and do my part. There is no way to run this world without women, And it w T ould seem to be my due, To love one, have a home, and support her, As all worthy men do. Still, I suppose if I give all, To my Creator’s cause. In caring for the helpless, And mending other’s flaws, I shall have done as much good, And probably a good deal more, Than if I get married, The Way to the Eternal 41 And all resources in one place pour; Like sewing to the wind in winter. As down to the blasts of March, And trust the wisdom omniscient, To nurse it on His hearth. VI Helen: Tomorrow is my day of service; My heart and brain are in a whir; When I would most love to sit dreaming, I must put a rule on me and stir; I’ll put my talent to usury", And learn better to sing and play; All things for my soul’s playground, Preparing for the day; Oh, how I abhor my rearing, And those who brought me up; Here I have refused a banquet. And now must dine a mere sup; In the shadows and empty places, My heart sounds like a shell; Each sigh rumbling and bumping; I think I have located hell. I ventured back to the spot -where he hurt me; Indeed, did he hurt me at all? He was merely caressing. And I knocked him for a fall; He was sitting on the spot where I sat, His hands holding up his face; I had not the up-bringing To apologize for my own disgrace. VII The days and weeks are flying; My work so absorbing and full; I have had no time for crying, But now with more leisure I am dull; 42 The Way to the Eternal I now have smiles a plenty, But oh, how they pale by his side; My heart will never admit one, A bean in a space so wide; How void my mind shows me, fighting; The shrew I thought I put down, Arose in a termigant way, And proceeded Cupid to crown; His eyes all mellowed with love, Shone down through a blush deep red, And I like a raging wild something, In a frenzy on a prime lettuce bed. But how could he, if he has breeding, Thrust himself into a woman’s life such, As to tear her soul from its moorings, And then say “I did nothing much.” He must know now his transgression, And return to that spot to apologize; And on each Sunday afternoon, I will go there and await his surprise; I know as I wait with longing, For the touch of a lover’s caress, I am building my house on moonshine, And may never have children to bless; But faith comes a bracing, Like wind in an empty sail; My soul turns about and holds me To the one I know will not fail; Nameless, I love him the better; I wonder what tied me so fast? Is love’s union a terrible chemistry, That holds inseparable to the last? VIII Will: I wonder how it goes with the woman, I insulted once on a time? My heart keeps urging her beauty, And painting a picture sublime; The Way to the Eternal 43 I cannot permit it, however; My will shall master my life; I’ll place in front of her picture, Something ugly, wretched, strife. As a man of honor, and chivalrous, I should return to beg pardon; She no doubt thinks I am a villain, And to bear it, perhaps, is my just burden; Where could I find her? For what name should I enquire? No street, no home, can I look for her; Like choosing one from a million wire; My heart loves her, I know it, As on the day I thought I had won; To her I must look like a bad boy, Who throws a rock just for fun; I might go back to that place, Some Sunday afternoon and wait; Like a murderer returns to the scene, And trust the balance to fate. Life is full of cross-roads. Where we meet with men and maids; And like cards, the trumps Are like the numerous trades; Who makes the trumps makes the difference. In this game of life; While one man plays for deception, Another is playing for a wife. In my days I have known those men, Who thought it verily meed, To use unsuspecting maidens, Would invent any lie they might need. In business the game goes on, And it behooves us, every one, To see that the cards we play with, Lie face up to the sun. There are those who keep their secret, Hoping to gain what others earn; But honest men know that game 44 The Way to the Eternal Is too expensive for them to learn. God knows all secrets, And if we live close to Him, He will tell us everything we need know, For the righteous, He has charge of them; I wonder if the girl I saw, And kissed her at the time, Can speak this infinite language? And does she with the Infinite dine? At the store today I met a man Who came to sell me goods; I knew when he tried to measure me, He was selling not nails, but hoods; When they try to find your weakness, With little bribes, or smutty jokes, Remember then, and forget not, Unless your neck is made for yokes. You need a lot of defenses Against the wiles of men, And a successful man should be ready, With worthy measures to defend. The lion walks in with his cigars; He knows I need a machine; Instead of showing its efficiency, On its success he begins to beam; How Bullrush, and Smotherson and Hookum, And numerous other tricks, Never discovered the pea was not there, Until in his pocket the money he sticks; Men of various and sundry makes, Honest and dishonest, full of preparation; They would have you believe they are there, When they boast and boost their reputation. The boys who get to work late, Or who smoke or loaf on the job, Are cheaters the same as the man, Who plans by other means to rob. The Way to the Eternal 45 Those who have a surplus of might, Either of brain or brawn, And have no compass of right in sight, Are laborers before the dawn; They may be worthy of much good work, But when they work in haste, When the light of brighter reason shines, They realize they commit great waste. In the day I can work and serve mankind, But when the day is done, I go to bed and toss and fight, A visage that will not be gone; It is always a woman, though not the same dress, The face I see is the same, She’s teasing and pleasing, coaxing and smart. But it adds the more to my shame; I wrestle and strive from nine to twelve. And then perhaps go to sleep, But never a night without the same fight, My soul to keep, or not to keep. 0 fair soul, if I only knew I could make you better by seeking, I would search you out, the world about, And never cease my speaking. Suppose she is married, and babies? Into her haven I bound; I hurt her before, she may expect more; It might be stirring an old wound. IX Here comes old Scoggins of the plaining mills; Heart as big as an ox; Honest and fair, reason a little rare, But strong at bearing mocks. Hello, sonny, you look pensive as a flower About to shed all of its perfume; I know something is eternally wrong; 46 The Way to the Eternal Small tilings in you find no room; Don’t think I take liberties with you, Addressing the boss as ‘Sonny,’ You know we all love you, and anything will do, To make you love us, so many. That is all right Scoggins, I’m glad to be pals With a man as courageous as you; I hope I shall never meet worse, Or have friends less true; There are Knox and Baggott who fell out, About some trivial something; Knox has his little life all his own, And from outside he wants nothing; He is strong for his personality, not a bad thing, But search out his truth he will not; Anything that is his, any habit, any fault, Drinking, drugs, it is all right; change not a dot. Baggott is just the reverse, though equally as bad; He is not sure he is living, if you say he is dead; He drinks, he gambles, all such tilings; He will tell you he knows they are wrong; He should quit—he has— And he knows he will not all along. Scoggins, hire men for courage, Who look you in the eye and smile; Answer questions without a flicker of countenance; Whose records show no guile. After all, Scogins, a man is a man, No matter where you find him; Many of those with millions Are cheap as dirt, never mind them. How can a man weigh honor? To what test can you put it to show, That one class is better than another, And their seed more entitled to grow? Life is an abstruse proposition, The Way to the Eternal 47 And how we may propagate our souls, Is more than a wise man’s question; We must pay life’s gate-keeper her tolls. Every man is a vast composite, And we all have our cowardly parts, Coupled no doubt with courage; All arranged in orderly symposium, Something like a true skin, and warts; The will seems to be the helmsman, And conscience is no doubt his mate; They steer this ship of commotion, Through all of life’s busy estate. The question is how does it happen, That cowardice gets to the wheel, When reason, that peculiar character, Is supposed to know what is best for the weal? We breathe some fuel from the air, We eat and drink the remainder; With this beginning of material, Our life fits out its container; We have a heart, brains and blood vessels; And a nervous system that is a wonder; It gets these all tied up together, And like as not it will begin to plunder. We are coupled to the universe through light, Which rolls right into the eye; Changes mounts something like from a boat to a plane, And on to the brain it will fly; To get all this process in mind, Is a little beyond my grasp; But I assume the light wave reaching the nerve, Has completely filled its task; This nerve has an apparatus on the end, filled on the inside, With a current reaching a cell in the brain; The light moves the diaphram of this apparatus; the nerve train, Like a million hammers on a cake of wax, What we see, it moulds and shapes the thing; 48 The Way to the Eternal The same thing works in the ear, The nose, the hand, the tongue; Only the nerve is activated in a different wny, And recorded with another prong; The nose and tongue use a chemical process; The electron waves from one element to another; While the ear and hand start the motion process, Oh, well; by something, or other; The thing I am getting at is this; I have everything I need to live; Yet I am not happy, and why it is, I must appeal to a woman to give. Give what? she has nothing I want, Only I want her near by; And yet it seems what I want to do, Is give her something, or try; I might give her diamonds, And jewelry, and clothes of every style; I might give her food and a home, Yet if I thought that was her highest wish, I would not a home defile. I might give her love, but what is that? She might give me the same in return; And still in our ignorance and benighted way, For our excess we may burn; What then? shall I marry one of them? If not what shall I do? Is there not some way I can do better work, Than marry and love like you? You married, have daughters and sons; You love them no doubt, as you should; I am single, yet I am seeking, A way by which I can do more good. We know that nothing of material or energy, Is ever lost from the universe; Therefore my soul, if I have one, When in death I immerse, Shall remain for good or ill; The Way to the Eternal 49 As it now has the power to do, and think; It shall continue to have will; If I live here and love you all, And help you in every way I can, When I am gone the love you owe, You will still owe the same man; Therefore I can gather my love from you, And carry it to heaven with me; Otherwise it is a debt that cannot be paid; Then should it permitted be? The bank, those mills, and stores; The farms and other things, Are not mine to own; I am trustee for all beings Who look to us for service; And though I to some extent; Control the destinies of all, Yet I am here by the powers that be; And to avoid it would mean to fall. This reasoning of mine is but to explain, That with a woman I am in love; I know not where she lives, or her name, Or whether she is below me, or above; I met her but once, and by chance, And I kissed her before we spoke; And then her rage was so great, My nose she nearly broke; I am now all things to all men, As well as to woman-kind; I know not what I wish to do; It was a wise man who said Cupid is blind; I am like a soldier in war, Unafraid of any duty; But I would do nothing that would lead, To censure of my fair beauty; Death, if that be the noble thing, I would embrace like a friend; 50 The Way to the Eternal But since death is a hazardous chance, I shall not hastily seek my end. Any humiliation I could endure, If my heart would urge me on; Any vengeance I would wreak, If it were against the wrong. Scoggins, I will not ask you To find the answer to this raving; Just go ahead and do your work, Effecting every saving. I will find some way to dispose of myself, If it takes me to the bottom of the sea, And I will get my conscience on my side; We two shall never disagree; I had my conscience when I kissed that girl, And my reason was with me, Though my brain was in a whirl; But the thing broke down somewhere; And the fault was mine, I could not blame her. X Will: Now here comes mother, Dressed up like a girl going to play; These women are great in their freedom. But even mothers should have their day. Hello, Sonny, what is your trouble? Your countenance looks clouded for a storm; I have prayed all these years so earnestly, That my boy might not feel the stab of wrong; Now let me sit right here on your knee, So strong and able to bear. And put my cheek up against yours; Tell mother the cause of your care; Has sin brought on this unbalance, The Way to the Eternal 51 Or some cheater got in his work? May be the bank has been robbed? Perhaps some deed in the dark? Pshaw; by golly, I never thought of that, But I’ll bet that is what I did; I will tell you all; it has taken away my appetite, And put my sleep on the skid; Mother, is it a sin to kiss a woman, Because you do not know her,—in the park? You know I am not much on flattery, And take no stock in deeds in the dark. Son, you have sinned, it is true, But not against the laws of God; Neither against man’s laws did you, Over woman’s laws you have trod; , Woman you must learn, has her dominion, Where man, unbidden, may not go; And you have chosen a fair lady, That you might break her law. You must find her and tell her, You meant not to fling in her face, Her precept of authority; You were only seeking her grace. Your way would be good if all people Could read in the lines of the face, The meaning of every emotion, And keep them in their proper place; You must seek out this woman, requite her; Your act like a gong on a bell. Has set her whole being in motion, And she’ll either have heaven, or hell; Heaven, if some one with her music, She can play in a solitary ear; Hell, if no ear is to be found, Which in her heart she holds dear. Womankind you should not esteem lightly, Or ■with small cause set aside; 52 The Way to the Eternal All men owe them a great patrimony, And one way to pay is take a bride; Love to a woman is like the rain, Upon the flowers and fruits; Without it they wither and perish, Taking with them their seed untouched. Deny not a woman her toll of love; You owe it, and honestly should pay; What to one may be a paltry thing, To another is the making of day. It is a small thing that has its beginning, In the heart of a woman’s emotion; But great is the end to which it grows, Like the swells and tides of the ocean. A woman’s heart and smiles should be in tune, With the infinite heart and plan; When God wishes something done soon, He smiles on a woman for a man. No husband from his wife should hold Any of her honest due; But many men from maids are with-holding, Today what they should not, as you. XII Mother, you think only of woman, And what she would have and be; Never consider for a moment, The cost; or the result to see; Now take these modern women, With their paint and powdered nose, What care they for duty, Seeking only pleasure and clothes? For children they are evading; They love to play in the stream, But for fear of pain and anguish, They dare not do more than dream; The Way to the Eternal 53 Now for loving such a woman, Why, she would not carry the load; Love requires a sound foundation; These have the strength of a toad; When admiration seeks for perching, It looks for the things to be worn; As the rose a bed of beautiful green, With the stem covered with thorn; If we want a messenger for danger, We do not choose a coward to go; If we want a son from heaven, Should we this duty on a weakling throw? I tell you the way of the righteous, Is not through the heart of a woman, Of the modern make, who love ease, And care naught about the domain. 1 Think you they will not seek honor, Theirs and others besides? If their legal friends cannot be donor, On some other fortune they ride; They care not what conscience says, It’s the way the world looks on; If others will not interfere, What they privately use, they will publicly don; The honor of woman in the concrete, Has come to such a control, That it is nothing but reputation, Prevents half from selling their soul; Look how many of them wreck themselves, For the sake of such fool trumpery, As clothes, and cars, and show; When if their hearts were honest, They would work and suffer and strive, A better estate to grow. Take these giggling girls. Who go roving in the parks, Exposed at both extremes; 54 The Way to the Eternal The subject of a thousand remarks; Of course I do not mind them, I really enjoy the view, But I guess they will be sorry sometime, When they see what their recklessness can do. XIII Mama: Oh, Sonny, you are pessimistic; I will hold you a little tighter; And tell my boy a few things about life, That will make him a better fighter. Women use paint and powder, Because they are not what they would be; That is a good sign, Sonny, Just wait on time and you’ll see; What they would be, they will be, If we let them have a chance, And show them the way to it, Their beauty to enhance; You would not have them less beautiful, Now, would you, my dear? They like red cheeks and lips, For the pale ones they wear; They’ll find how to get them, From nature by and by, And what a woman will give nature then, It won’t be because she did not try. God is the author of this thing, And when He plants a desire, No matter, in the heart of a woman, He sees the fruit it will bear. As for children, give them a chance, They’ll give you all you can support; You’ll find it is not all the woman’s fault; You know men claim the right to court. It is fixed in the heart of a woman, The Way to the Eternal 55 As to live, is to love a child; And that is part of the reason, These barren ones are so wild. Of course after they have fallen, No matter whose be the fault, They are then things of pity; Their souls are stained and halt; You should not wish to love one, Because of any sin she is abetted; You love her for the place God has to her committed. They carry no load much; They are not equal to that work; But the world is equally afflicted, With men who their duty shirk. The state is the burden of the betters, And since they cannot carry it all. We have to get along the best we can; In some way keep from a fall; If all men were like my big boy, I am sure there would be some speed To this old ship of state. In her rush to get ahead. You know the world moves slowly, And it has been a long time, Since reason began Our march toward the sublime; But dear, we are moving on, And never be discouraged a day, Because every setting sun, Will find us further on our way. Many, many, a woman has failed, Who otherwise would not, If she were with a male. Who would help her lot; So many have their own sins, 56 The Way to the Eternal And their men’s as well to carry, That I am more surprised, So many as there are who marry. The men commence early to practice sin, And think it such an honor, They brag about it when Some other fool would follow; They expect a woman to remain pure, While rubbing up against Every contamination which is sure Her character and reputation to paint; Some of the villains go about bragging. Of something they have done; As promising to marry some maiden, Who believing, permits her life to ruin. When her flower has fallen, And her truth she cannot plight, What is the poor girl to do, Since men decide what is right? If she tells the next man “How pure and true she is” She lies and knows it, And her conscience begins to sizz; Suppose this man marries her, And sticks to her for life, Do you