Robert Bullock 
 
VOICES 
 
 IN 
 
 THE SILENCE 
 
 ORIGINAL POEMS 
 
 ROBERT BULLOCK 
 
 Published for the Author 
 
 by 
 
 AUSTIN PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 Los Angeles, Calif. 
 
Copyrighted, March 1921 
 by Robert Bullock 
 
 MAY -2 132! 
 
 0)ClA6il884 
 
DEDICATION 
 
 In answer to a popular demand for these poems and in heart- 
 felt thankfulness to the Guides and spirit Friends who have 
 given me the inspiration and to all friends who helped to make 
 it a success this book is dedicated. 
 
 R. BULLOCK. 
 
WHAT HAVE YOU DONE 
 
 What are your aspirations? 
 
 Have you set your standard high? 
 Are you really trying to merit 
 
 A home beyond the sky? 
 
 Have you tried to forget the worldly things, 
 
 To think of God alone, 
 To court that divine intelligence, 
 
 Where only angels roam? 
 
 Have you found that life's worth living? 
 
 Are you really glad you come? 
 Will you be judged by what you are going to do 
 
 Or what you have really done? 
 
 You may be as poor as Lazarus, 
 
 Yet rich beyond compare. 
 If in some tragedy of life 
 
 You're found on duty there. 
 
 A touch of the hand, a kindness done, 
 
 A word to a broken heart, 
 Will reach into the very soul 
 
 Where God and man's a part. 
 
 Why even the gift of a flower. 
 
 Sings a song that's all its own; 
 That makes the one that receives it 
 
 Realize they don't stand alone. 
 
 Have you satisfied your innerself. 
 
 Your consciousness, your God, 
 Or will the world forget you 
 
 When you're placed beneath the sod? 
 
 Why not erect a monument 
 
 On a foundation of good deeds. 
 That the coming generation 
 
 May look with pride indeed? 
 
 Your reputation may be black. 
 
 Like a foul and polluted spot; 
 But jealously guard your character. 
 
 It's the only thing you've got. 
 
 I'd like to build a monument, 
 
 And carve on stone or wood 
 A simple little inscription. 
 He did the best he could. 
 
MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS 
 
 Why do you always criticise, 
 
 Have you nothing better to do, 
 
 If your neighbor is trying to behave himself, 
 Why should it bother you? 
 
 If Mrs. Brown across the street, 
 
 Should come out with a new bonnet. 
 
 There are envious eyes behind the blinds. 
 To look and gaze upon it. 
 
 You then met over the back fence, 
 
 To discuss the situation. 
 And tear her character all to pieces, 
 
 And she gains a reputation. 
 
 If I should go for a ride with a friend. 
 
 In his automobile. 
 You'll swear I can't afford it, 
 
 And engaged in some crooked deal. 
 
 Why as I passed along the street, 
 
 You spoke loud enough for me to hear, 
 
 "That dress that Mrs. Jones has on, 
 Is the one she wore last year." 
 
 Don't you think it's time to call a halt. 
 
 And break the bitter cup, 
 Your mind is bent on destruction 
 
 Instead of building up. 
 
 You seem to be experts at tearing down. 
 
 And casting the adder sting, 
 And you walk right over broken hearts, 
 
 Just like an unclean thing. 
 
You carried scandal by the mile, 
 And wished a man was dead, 
 
 When asked to produce the evidence, 
 Well, it was an article I read. 
 
 Who gave you the power to be the judge, 
 
 Is it for you to criticise, 
 It's the one that minds his own business, 
 
 That walks away with the prize. 
 
 Those soft words that you uttered. 
 
 Have perished long ago. 
 They weren't uttered by the heart, 
 
 And so they couldn't grow. 
 
 Those flowers that you gave away, 
 
 Were only fertile weeds, 
 Christ ministered unto the multitude. 
 
 And not some narrow creed. 
 
 If you want to know the devil 
 Who sees all things that pass 
 
 Go and get acquainted with yourself, 
 By looking in the looking-glass. 
 
 If something should annoy you, 
 
 Just turn your head away, 
 And instead of continuously condemning, 
 
 Have a pleasant word to say. 
 
 And even those who harm you most 
 
 Will see a line of retreat. 
 Come back and humbly apologize, 
 
 And crawl right at your feet. 
 
 So never mind what has been said, 
 Or things that have been done, 
 
 Cultivate a spirit of forgiveness. 
 And a kingdom shall be won. 
 
DO SPIRITS RETURN 
 
 Did you ever discuss the question, 
 
 Do spirits really return? 
 Have you ever taken the trouble, 
 
 The answer to really learn? 
 
 Haven't you listened to the theories, 
 
 Discussed it pro and con? 
 Did you stand on a sure foundation. 
 
 Or nothing to lean upon? 
 
 Did you think the time would be well spent, 
 
 To probe the matter deep. 
 To draw from the foundation of knowledge 
 
 While others were content to sleep? 
 
 Have you satisfied your inner self. 
 
 Or followed what someone has said? 
 
 Do you receive communications 
 
 From those of the so-called dead? 
 
 Haven't you watched the face of a mother, 
 
 With a look of supreme joy, 
 At receiving a beautiful message 
 
 From one she calls her boy? 
 
 She was made to suffer the pangs of hell. 
 
 In giving the child its birth, 
 And then it was stricken cold in death. 
 
 And they covered it with the earth. 
 
He is not dead, he's simply passed 
 Beyond the vision of mortal ken; 
 
 He will return and give her strength, 
 Her spiritual eyes will see him again. 
 
 Haven't you heard the raps on the table, 
 
 Upon the door or wall, 
 An invisible wireless message 
 
 That's proof enough for all? 
 
 Haven't you felt your being tremble? 
 
 You knew it was a sign, 
 A living, pulsating, vibrating thing, 
 
 An influence that's divine. 
 
 Can this be true, do you still doubt, 
 My God, what can the answer be? 
 
 Haven't you felt the consolation 
 From prayer on a bended knee? 
 
 You grieve about the friends that have gone. 
 
 You saw them laid away; 
 They are now enjoying the fullness of life. 
 
 And are not inanimate clay. 
 
 You know they love to guide you 
 In the straight and narrow way. 
 
 To know you are progressing. 
 
 Solving the problems of the day. 
 
 If you wish to commune with your spirit friends, 
 And learn the truth that never ends, 
 Retire to thy closet in the silent night 
 
 And what you receive you'll know is right. 
 
THE ROAD CALLED STRAIGHT 
 
 What is the straight and narrow path, 
 
 What object to have in view? 
 How can I shape my conduct 
 
 To do what's right to you? 
 
 What tribute can I pay to God 
 
 To fill His just demands? 
 What line of action can I take 
 
 To answer His commands? 
 
 He knows my weakness and my strength, 
 
 He knows my trials too; 
 But there is an intelligence within 
 
 That tells us what to do. 
 
 If I express my love for you, 
 
 In thought, in word, in deed, 
 I am carrying out the Christ principle. 
 
 No matter what's the creed. 
 
 And there is a great pleasure in doing good, 
 
 There really is, indeed; 
 For you can sow a crop of blessings — if 
 
 You will only sow the seed. 
 
 If you get in the way of doing good. 
 
 While on this side of the sod. 
 You will have no future vain regrets. 
 
 And you will be at peace with God. 
 
A VISIT TO ST. VINCENT'S HOSPITAL 
 
 While sitting today in concentration, 
 
 And wondering how things were going to be, 
 
 I seemed to receive an inspiration, 
 
 And some curious visions were shown to me. 
 
 I stood in the corridor of a large building, 
 Where rooms opened out from every side. 
 
 And I caught a fleeting glimpse in passing, 
 Of patients lying on cots — inside. 
 
 There were Mothers and Fathers and Children — 
 weary 
 
 In anguish and pain, how sad it all seemed; 
 And how I wished that I was a fairy. 
 
 To visit them all in nice, pleasant dreams. 
 
 I seemed to enter and gather a story. 
 Life's tragedies were unfolded to me. 
 
 And some were thinking of God and His Glory, 
 And others unconsciously spoke to me. 
 
 Some had God's law violated. 
 
 Accident, sickness of every kind; 
 And some had entered Death's dark Portal, 
 
 And others had left all hope behind. 
 
 There the breadwinner had been taken. 
 To lay on a bed of sickness and pain; 
 
 And I thought of the mother and children waiting, 
 And Oh, what a welcome — when he returns 
 again. 
 
There was the sweetheart paying a visit, 
 
 Tenderly took the white hand as it lay on the 
 sheet; 
 And I could detect in my fleeting fancy, 
 
 The eye spoke the word — what the tongue didn't 
 speak. 
 
 The doctors and nurses with divine co-operation. 
 Performed operations of wonderful skill; 
 
 But Oh, — what suffering could be avoided. 
 If we would do and obey His will. 
 
 And Oh, how I wished that I might stay 'round 
 there, 
 
 And say just a word or a touch of the hand. 
 Or even a smile as I was passing. 
 
 Someone would catch it and understand. 
 
 And as I came away from the building. 
 And viewed the city, and landscape o'er, 
 
 I knew I had only been doing my duty, 
 
 I resolved to return there — more and more. 
 
 You fret and you stew over some fancied illness. 
 You worry yourself sick with a fit of the blues; 
 
 Now for a spring tonic that will quickly relieve you, 
 Go and do a kind action — it's up to you. 
 
THE WAR 
 
 Why is this great catastrophe, 
 This shedding of human blood, 
 
 Is it Divine Providence? 
 
 And from it will there come good? 
 
 History seems to repeat itself, 
 
 In turmoil, revolution. 
 The forerunner of great reforms, 
 
 For that will be the solution. 
 
 I seem to stand where Moses stood. 
 And view the landscape o'er, 
 
 I see the dawn of a brighter day. 
 When war shall be no more. 
 
 When Kings and Queens shall pass away, 
 And in their place shall rise, 
 
 A freedom that is liberty. 
 Proclaim it to the skies. 
 
 The flag of peace shall then wave o'er. 
 
 This United Land, 
 The cradle of Democracy, 
 
 For Liberty we stand. 
 
 You shan't enslave the people. 
 
 By any tyrant's yoke. 
 The hand writing's on the wall, 
 
 For God himself has spoke. 
 
 A free and enlightened people. 
 
 Shall rise from out the dust, 
 The sacrifice shan't be in vain, 
 
 For thousands that's been crushed. 
 
 How long, Oh, God, will the conflict last. 
 And the answer came from above, 
 
 The conflict will cease, but only when. 
 There is an avalanche of love. 
 
THE COLLECTIONS 
 
 I've been contributing lately, 
 
 To every Tom, Dick and Harry, 
 
 They've simply got me stranded, broke, 
 I can't afford to marry. 
 
 If any young lady wanted me, 
 
 She'd have to take me as I am 
 They've got a mortgage on my life. 
 
 And I'm as poor as a clam. 
 
 I've given money to the Y. M. C. A., 
 
 And bought a Liberty Bond, 
 I took out a membership in the Red Cross, 
 
 While singing a merry song. 
 
 I almost got dizzy with giving. 
 
 But for fear that I should slumber, 
 
 They woke me up with another bunch 
 
 They called them the Knights of Columbus. 
 
 They've collected money for this and that, 
 
 "Till I wouldn't be surprised. 
 If they took up a collection for the heathen 
 Chinese. 
 
 I'll have to Hooverize. 
 
 And Farmer Jones he lost a horse. 
 
 That left him in the lurch. 
 He couldn't afford to give anything. 
 
 Not even to a Church. 
 
 And Sister Jones has had bad luck. 
 
 She couldn't afford to pay. 
 She fed her chickens both morn and night, 
 
 And still they refused to lay. 
 
 Then Farmer Jones got mad and died. 
 He says: "They're a bunch of fakers," 
 
 But he couldn't rest in six feet of ground, 
 Till he had settled with the undertakers. 
 
He then knocked at St. Peter's door, 
 
 To claim his just reward, 
 St. Peter said: Pray take a seat 
 
 While I look up your record. 
 
 You lost a horse I will admit, 
 
 Still, there's an item on the sheet. 
 
 Where it says you made $500.00 
 By speculating in wheat. 
 
 You boosted the price of foodstuff high, 
 Instead of helping the worthy poor. 
 
 And you think you deserve a monument, 
 And feel yourself secure. 
 
 Your conscience never troubled you, 
 When your neighbor broke his leg. 
 
 You might have helped him from your store. 
 But you left him to starve and beg. 
 
 Your wife was always crying, 
 
 Because the chickens wouldn't lay. 
 
 But she always had money for a movie show, 
 Or the price of a matinee. 
 
 And to think you've come for your reward. 
 
 Why man, you must be dippy. 
 The argument that you put up. 
 
 Is certainly very witty. 
 
 But I've prepared a place for you. 
 Where the fires are burning bright. 
 
 Where you can soothe your conscience. 
 In the bitterness of the night. 
 
 To those within the sound of my voice, 
 .Just pause for a moment's reflection. 
 
 When next they send around the plate. 
 Drop in a good collection. 
 
A MENTAL INVOICE 
 
 Did you ever sit down and calmly think 
 
 Of the years that's past and gone? 
 Have you done anything that's been really worth 
 while, 
 
 A pleasant memory to dwell upon? 
 
 Or are you so engaged in business 
 
 That you really haven't the time? 
 You are wondering when the stocks will pay, 
 
 When those dividends will be mine. 
 
 Many a one could be saved from the breakers 
 
 By a timely outstretched hand, 
 When the weaker brother is faltering 
 
 You could help him to make dry land. 
 
 "Feed my lambs," the Master said. 
 
 Doesn't that refer to you at all? 
 It may be all right for children to repeat 
 
 Or hang as a motto on the wall. 
 
 "Love ye one another," 
 
 Has been written in letters of gold; 
 But that belongs to the discard 
 
 Like a garment that has grown old. 
 
 Are you a superior kind of a being 
 Considering yourself a prize? 
 When you reach the pinnacle of fame 
 Six feet of earth makes us all one size. 
 
 Why, I belond to Big Business 
 And working as hard as I can; 
 But dollars and cents won't save your soul 
 Nor prove that you're a man. 
 
 When you make a mental resolution 
 
 And do the things that you should, 
 'Tis then your conscience will tell you 
 
 You've commenced on a road that is good. 
 
MOTHER 
 
 Did you ever stop for a moment to think 
 Of the woman who gave you birth? 
 
 How her life was placed in jeopardy. 
 To bring you to this earth. 
 
 When pains and fever racked you, 
 
 As you tossed about in bed, 
 'Twas Mother's careful nursing 
 
 That snatched you from the dead. 
 
 When your so-called friends had left you, 
 
 Stranded upon the rocks, 
 It was her love and sjTnpathy 
 
 That kind o' softened all the knocks. 
 
 If the whole world should applaud you 
 
 Or scandal ruin your name. 
 She'd smile or grieve in silence, 
 
 For you're her baby just the same. 
 
 And what have you done for Mother? 
 
 Or does your memory seem to slip? 
 For the curse of God is upon you 
 
 If your conscience should be whipped. 
 
 Won't you help her over the rough spots? 
 
 It's as little as you can do, 
 For a life of Love and Devotion 
 
 She has sacriiiced for you. 
 
 And should she be away from here, 
 
 Just pause, and drop a line; 
 The letter it will cheer her. 
 
 Like a message that's divine. 
 
 And should the storms of life seem 
 To dash the breakers at her door, 
 
 Lead IMother into a safe harbor. 
 For she did it to you before. 
 
MY WISH 
 
 I wish that in the year to come 
 
 I could do better than the year before. 
 
 That I might absorb inspiration 
 And tell it o'er and o'er. 
 
 That I might love Humanity, 
 
 Do everything that's kind. 
 Forget the pessimistic thought 
 
 And leave them all behind. 
 
 To always have a dollar handy 
 
 To help some unfortunate brother. 
 
 The very expression of God himself, 
 "I command ye to love one another." 
 
 To practice the true religion 
 
 And not cast it off on Monday, 
 
 Then hang it up in the closet 
 
 And bring it out again on Sunday. 
 
 These things can be accomplished 
 
 And that we all know, 
 But we won't give the credit to Bullock 
 
 But to Edgar Allen Poe. 
 
 I certainly wish to do my best 
 
 And always do my part. 
 For when I deliver a poem to you, 
 
 I am speaking from my heart. 
 
 So I ask a blessing upon you, 
 
 And I don't stand in this thought alone. 
 My Guide endorses the messages 
 
 Right from the home of the Soul. 
 
 So in the days of the future, 
 
 Tho you are scattered by the mile, 
 
 Good luck, success, prosperity 
 From Bullock and his Guide. 
 
EARTHBOUND 
 
 You are told by Basil King, in his picture tonight 
 How to do some things and do them right. 
 If you men will take that lesson home 
 You will leave the other fellow's wife alone. 
 
 It's very dangerous to play with fire 
 No matter how pleasant is your desire. 
 If you get in tune with a high vibration 
 You'll be able to overcome any temptation. 
 
 If vibration is motion and motion is life 
 You should be able to accomplish anything in life. 
 And if God is Love and Love is motion 
 Vibration should be as boundless as the ocean. 
 
 So, if you're tempted to do these things, 
 
 Just concentrate on the higher things. 
 
 There'll be no limit to your exultation 
 
 When you get into a fitting and proper vibration. 
 
 And you should have an intense desire 
 To be baptized with that spiritual fire. 
 Now this is logic that is quite sound 
 For a spiritual man is never earthbound. 
 
 MY CONCEPTION OF GOD 
 
 The Orthodox Churches for ages have preached 
 That God's tender mercy was just like a leach. 
 That He would extract His "pound of flesh" 
 Before being considered as caught in his mesh. 
 
 Now if I was born or conceived in sin, 
 
 Should He hold me responsible for what was within? 
 
 And does not it seem a flagrant violation 
 
 That I should be sent to eternal damnation? 
 
 I believe in a God more generous and true, 
 That looks down with compassion on me and on you. 
 So if a good life's rewarded and things of that kind. 
 Get busy, and do something and quit losing time. 
 
AN INVOCATION 
 
 Go into the silence, 
 
 The speaker said. 
 And commune if you can 
 
 With the so-called dead. 
 
 Just ask them to give you 
 
 A closer view. 
 And tell you the things 
 
 You wish you knew. 
 
 But the line of progression seems awfully slow, 
 And we learn one thing at a time; 
 
 I have often wished to make a speech, 
 Or give a verse in rhyme. 
 
 But our Angel Guides, why they know best. 
 They give us what we can digest. 
 
 You know they have to prepare the ground 
 Before the ripened grain is found. 
 
 If the darkest hour is before the dawn, 
 
 Don't sit and fret and stew; 
 You may be on the point of receiving, 
 
 And the light be breaking through. 
 
 A PRESENTATION OF FLOWERS 
 
 A flower was sent on a journey one day 
 To gather the sunshine along God's Highway. 
 The sunbeams cast blends of exquisite hue 
 In all its glory I present it to you. 
 
 A token of respect, 
 
 A blessing to share; 
 And given to you. 
 
 Dear one, so fair. 
 
 Your memory to cherish, 
 
 Your name to defend; 
 A sister, a counsellor. 
 
 And jolly good friend. 
 
BE KIND 
 
 Did you ever do a kind action, 
 
 Where you really filled the bill, 
 When you satisfied your conscience, 
 
 The voice that speaks, when still? 
 
 Where you hadn't a single motive, 
 
 And no selfishness was there. 
 But it seemed to spring from a fountain of love, 
 
 And everything seemed so fair. 
 
 On the square, now answer the question, 
 
 Didn't it appear to you, 
 As if you had received a blessing. 
 
 And a gift had come to you? 
 
 There is lots of room in God's vineyard 
 
 For workers — willing and true. 
 And none of us need be idle , 
 
 If we really want something to do. 
 
 Is there not somewhere in the closet, 
 
 A garment you have laid away? 
 That you could fix and present it 
 
 To someone that needs it today. 
 
 Have you a sick friend or neighbor? 
 
 Here is a chance for a helping hand, 
 If you only drop in as you are passing. 
 
 They will know and understand. 
 
 Isn't there someone that's weary, 
 
 Someone with a broken heart. 
 That needs the words of comfort 
 
 Couldn't you help them to make a new start? 
 
 It's not what you give, but the spirit 
 That's wafted along on the breeze. 
 
 And the mite of the widow has been riches 
 To those that were really in need. 
 
 The thing in life that's the sweetest 
 
 Is the thought that you did what you could; 
 
 The reward you receive is Eternal, 
 
 Won't you help in a work that is good? 
 
 And when you retire on the evening. 
 You will offer a thankful prayer. 
 
 That you were really found worthy 
 To do just a little — a share. 
 
 So I ask for your best endeavor. 
 
 And I make this appeal to you. 
 Won't you be a brother — a sister. 
 
 And God's blessing will come to you. 
 
SOME QUESTIONS THE MEDIUMS ARE 
 ASKED 
 
 While thinking of this event today 
 
 And wondering what I could say or do, 
 
 I seem to see some curious visions, 
 And what I saw I will tell to you. 
 
 I seem to receive a bundle of letters 
 
 And strange as it may seem, 
 They related to the problems of life 
 
 As I read the lines between. 
 
 Just a multitude of questions 
 
 From every walk in life; 
 Some spoke of high aspirations 
 
 And others were not so nice. 
 
 Some asked for a healing vibration 
 
 To cure the eifects of the flu; 
 And some just wanted a little advice, 
 
 They didn't know what to do. 
 
 Will I be able to take a vacation? 
 
 Will I sell that home on the hill? 
 When Uncle Hyram passes out, 
 
 Will I be beneficiary in his will? 
 
 Where can I find a vacant room 
 Where the rent is not too high? 
 
 They seem to ask an awful price. 
 The only limit is the sky. 
 
Is my husband true to me? 
 
 Oh, the thought will drive me crazy; 
 A woman said she saw him on a street car 
 
 Sitting right next to a lady. 
 
 What can I take so that I can reduce? 
 
 Won't you tell me what to do? 
 I used to be a perfect 36 
 
 But now I am 42. 
 
 How should you feel when you're in love? 
 
 I wish to goodness I could tell; 
 Sometimes I feel in heaven, 
 
 Then again I feel in H . 
 
 Some would try to confound a Medium 
 
 By sending out thoughts that are not best. 
 
 But an instrument in the hands of God 
 Can stand the acid test. 
 
 Why your questions can be answered, 
 
 If your face they never see; 
 Just the vibration of your voice 
 
 Will bring it as plain as can be. 
 
 So send your good thoughts to the Mediums; 
 
 They are human like the rest. 
 Don't criticize their every fault 
 
 And then expect their best. 
 
 But simply rally round them, 
 
 Encourage them all you can. 
 For you are only paying them their just dues 
 
 And proving yourself a man. 
 
DISCOURAGED 
 
 Did you ever feel discouraged 
 
 When the going's rather rough? 
 
 And everything seemed to go wrong 
 And you felt you've borne enough? 
 
 Did you ever crave the sympathy 
 
 Of a fellow passing by, 
 When you felt your heart was breaking 
 
 But it would be a crime to cry? 
 
 Did you ever wish to give expression 
 
 To the thoughts that were on your mind, 
 
 When your so-called friends wouldn't listen 
 For they didn't have the time? 
 
 Did you ever wish to pass away 
 
 Acknowledge rank defeat, 
 Because you couldn't see the outstretched hand 
 
 That would save you from the horse's feet? 
 
 Sometimes our efforts seem misplaced. 
 
 We do not gain the prize. 
 And what we call rank failures 
 
 Are really blessings in disguise. 
 
 If we'd listen to that small still voice, 
 A friend's that's always at home, 
 
 We would enjoy a well earned victory 
 When we fight the battle alone. 
 
THE PATH I'LL TREAD 
 
 I sat in the silence and gazed into my soul, 
 
 That wonderful soul of mine. 
 I heard a voice, a small still voice, 
 
 A voice that was Divine. 
 
 "Are you doing the work of the Master? 
 
 What are you doing with your talents? 
 If asked for accounts of your stewardship, 
 
 Where would you stand in the balance?" 
 
 Are you doing the best you can, 
 
 Have you espoused Humanity's cause? 
 
 Can you stand the shafts of ridicule, 
 When you ought to receive applause? 
 
 Can you go into the depths of seeming despair 
 And radiate light in my name? 
 Can you mix with the dregs of Humanity 
 And come out without a stain? 
 
 We will raise you to heights, where ambition has 
 taught, 
 
 To the topmost ladder of fame. 
 Not thinking of self, but only of God 
 
 Will you progress in His Name? 
 
 You'll be richer by far than man ever dreamed 
 Of the gold that lies under the sod; 
 
 But the only enduring wealth there is. 
 Is the service of thy God. 
 
 You'll be called to the sick in the dead of the night, 
 
 When vitality seems to have gone; 
 They shall rise from the couch, declare themselves 
 well. 
 
 All those that your hand touches on. 
 
 You will travel afar in this mundane sphere, 
 
 And tell the story to men. 
 But the words shall flow in an endless stream 
 
 For you will stand inspired then. 
 
 And angels shall guard every step that you take, 
 
 Lest you should stumble or fall; 
 For an instrument in the hands of God 
 
 Shall triumph over all. 
 
 I sat in the silence and gazed into my soul. 
 
 That wonderful soul of mine; 
 And I knew I'd receieved a blessing from God, 
 
 A gift that was divine. 
 
MEDIUMSHIP 
 
 How can I become a Medium? 
 
 Is the question often asked; 
 Which is the best way to develop, 
 
 And I'd like to do it fast. 
 
 I'd like to describe those pictures, 
 And see those flickering lights; 
 
 I'd like to see those shadowy forms 
 Like a mist at night. 
 
 And while pondering o'er the question, 
 
 I seem to get it right, 
 That those who are earnestly searching 
 
 Would surely find the light . 
 
 Just keep a conscientious mind 
 
 And do the best you can. 
 Give every person a square deal. 
 
 Is a good motto for woman or man. 
 
 And when you receive this blessed gift 
 
 That money cannot buy, 
 You'll have to give a strict account 
 
 In the future bye and bye. 
 
 God is not mocked — He sees. He knows. 
 
 His memory is keen; 
 Give out the message as you receive it 
 
 With nothing false between. 
 
 God needs no excuses for what he does, 
 
 He doesn't falsify. 
 And you can receive the very best. 
 
 If you will only try. 
 
 So give out those grand vibrations, 
 For that is a Divine command, 
 
 And God Himself will bless you, 
 He has no other plan. 
 
 For to be an inspired Medium 
 Is "God's choicest gift to man. 
 
COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE 
 
 When a fellow's in love 
 
 Or stuck on a girl, 
 He is really insane 
 
 For his head's in a whirl. 
 
 He is not responsible for what he does; 
 
 His insanity is very keen; 
 His one desire is to have and to hold 
 
 Someone he calls his queen. 
 
 He'll rave about her beautiful form 
 
 And the color of her hair, 
 And he is ready to fight at the drop of a hat 
 
 If a fellow should look or stare. 
 
 He'll take her to theatres, parties and balls, 
 
 And spend on her his mon, 
 And starve himself the following week 
 
 And think it a trick well done. 
 
 He'll write her letters that are so red hot 
 They would burn the spots off the moon, 
 
 But when he has got her and married her 
 He sings a different tune. 
 
 Somehow his vision seems clearer, 
 
 He sees her in her true light; 
 And things that once where beautiful 
 
 Now give him a hideous fright. 
 
 Why, she is just an ordinary kind of a girl 
 And it is a shame the way she cooks; 
 
 All she can do is play the piano 
 Or read a silly book. 
 
And to think I called her a peacherine, 
 Oh, it gives me a pain in the head; 
 
 She only cleans up what is right in sight 
 And never sweeps under the bed. 
 
 And think of me, a sensible man, 
 
 Say, it's a crime this side of heaven, 
 
 For when I captured that blooming kid, 
 I certainly picked a lemon. 
 
 The trouble was — you both were wrong 
 In picking a mate to fit your station; 
 
 For what you thought was real, true love 
 Was simply fascination. 
 
 True love itself springs from the heart 
 
 And not in a pretty face; 
 The average man wants a chum 
 
 As well as the mother for the race. 
 
 Don't criticise her every fault. 
 
 But greet her with a kiss; 
 Try to understand one another. 
 
 And you'll make a home of bliss. 
 
 In health, in sickness, in poverty, wealth. 
 Simply cling to one another; 
 
 You will have no use for a divorce 
 Or be looking for any other. 
 
 More could be said. What's the use. 
 
 Deny it if you can; 
 But it takes the love of a woman 
 
 To bring out the best in a man. 
 
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