PS 
 
 ■3S1S 
 
 \9 
 
Class _±_ 
 
 Cbpyiigiu N"__ ..'tl 
 
 COFYKIGHT DEPOSIT 
 
SONGS OF 
 
 THE MISSISSIPPI 
 
 BY 
 
 JACOB IRVING HESS 
 
 Bosron 
 
 I'hi- soxh'urgt. Put-lishina Co- 
 in.-. 
 

 Copyright iqio 
 
 By 
 
 Jacob Irvino Hess 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 Re-copyright 1921 
 
 MAR -7 1921 
 0)C!.A611059 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAOE 
 
 The Father of Waters 7 
 
 The Eternal Right 10 
 
 The Road to Success Not Bordered With Flowers. 11 
 
 The Chilhcothe Fair 13 
 
 The Old Family Circle 17 
 
 Stepping Toward the Grave 20 
 
 Destiny 23 
 
 Beautiful Sunset Land 24 
 
 Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust 26 
 
 Abraham Lincoln 27 
 
 Be Somebody 29 
 
 True Wealth 31 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt 32 
 
 The Devil's Want Column 34 
 
 Childhood's Happy Days 36 
 
 The Dear Old Country School 37 
 
 The Cross Roads 39 
 
 Greatness 41 
 
 Columbia, The Conqueror 42 
 
 Affection 44 
 
 Immortality 45 
 
 Lost 48 
 
 Peace on Earth, Good Will to Man 49 
 
 Drifting 52 
 
 Separation 55 
 
 Have Faith In God 57 
 
CO'NTENTS— Continued 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Going West 58 
 
 Our National Flag 60 
 
 A Diamond In The Rough 63 
 
 The Way to Happiness 65 
 
 Today 67 
 
 Though the Path Be Rugged, We'll CUmb 69 
 
 Easy Street 72 
 
 America 75 
 
 Never Give Up 77 
 
 Back At Home 78 
 
 Heaven on Earth 81 
 
 The Reconciliation 82 
 
 If You Can't Speak Well of People, Say Nothing 
 
 at all 84 
 
 The Pilgrim Fathers 87 
 
 The Resurrection 91 
 
 Old Sweetheart Days 93 
 
 Our Fallen Heroes 96 
 
 America First 99 
 
 Missouri 102 
 
 The Great Adventure 112 
 
 Back To The Farm 114 
 
 The Greed For Gold 117 
 
 The Thousand Years of Peace 119 
 
 Victory and Defeat 122 
 
 The Death of Roosevelt 124 
 
 The Higher Life 126 
 
SONGS OF THE MISSISSIPPI 
 
THE FATHER OF WATERS 
 
 I am the Mississippi. 
 
 I've flown since time began, 
 Since the sun first arose in the heavens, 
 
 Or the first appearance of man. 
 From the North where the snow clad Rockies 
 
 Laugh loud in their glad surprise, 
 I flow to the Southland fragrant 
 
 Where the silvery palm trees rise. 
 From the birth of this continent majestic 
 
 In the twilight burst of time, 
 I've flown from ice clad kingdoms 
 
 To the flowers of the southern clime. 
 
 I've flown through forests primeval. 
 Where sauntered the savage bear, 
 
 Where red men yelled on the war path 
 And the panther crouched in his lair. 
 
The Father of Waters 
 
 Desoto sleeps on in my bosom. 
 
 In my cold arms, his ashes are bound. 
 He slumbers in peace neath the waters 
 
 His bold restless spirit once found. 
 The French trader welcomed the red man, 
 
 While the Englishman fought the wild brave, 
 And made of his forest crowned empire 
 
 A land where his own flag could wave. 
 
 And then rose a world dazzling nation 
 
 Whose banner unfurled o'er the free, 
 Whose East border kissed the Atlantic 
 
 And spread to the Western sea, 
 A vast earth encircling republic, 
 
 A flag with its cluster of stars 
 With the white of the northern snow drifts. 
 
 And the red of the sunset bars. 
 With the purpose of God in its colors, 
 
 With a destiny wondrous and true, 
 With its vespers that glow in their brilliance 
 
 On its background of heavenly blue. 
 
 8 
 
The Father of Waters 
 
 Still onward I roll toward the tropics 
 
 With the bright golden glow of my tide, 
 As forests and states and cities 
 
 Spring up by my crystal side. 
 While ages shall come in their silence, 
 
 And pass in their sorrow and woe, 
 And races shall rise up and vanish 
 
 By the side of my murmuring flow, 
 And Father Time even shall falter 
 
 With the hour glass and scythe in his hands, 
 But the flower scented breezes shall whisper 
 
 As of yore by my golden sands. 
 For as the most wonderful artery 
 
 Since Time gave this old world its birth, 
 I've been famed as the greatest river 
 
 Of this mightiest continent on earth. 
 
THE ETERNAL RIGHT 
 
 Be sure you're right, then go ahead, 
 
 And fight, if need be, till you're dead. 
 
 Almighty God knows Right is Right. 
 
 Fear not though you are faced with might, 
 
 And dare to sacrifice your self. 
 
 Heed not the voice of power and pelf. 
 
 You'll have foes, soon as you begin, 
 
 But strive on, you are sure to win. 
 
 Eternal Right cannot be crushed 
 
 Although its still voice may be hushed 
 
 At times by Wrong, and things look blue. 
 
 But if you fail, the fault's in you. 
 
 For God is on the side of Right. 
 
 His power shall arm you for the fight. 
 
 Stand up though you may stand alone 
 
 For Right, though Hell's vast hosts be thrown 
 
 Against your self, you cannot fail. 
 
 The Wrong shall lose, the Right prevail. 
 
 So once more, let these words be said 
 
 "Be sure you're right, then go ahead." 
 
 lo 
 
"THE ROAD TO SUCCESS IS NOT BOR- 
 DERED WITH FLOWERS" 
 
 You can't recline 'neath rosy bowers 
 And climb the dizzy heights of fame. 
 You can't thus carve yourself a name. 
 On beds of ease there is no place 
 For men who wish to win Life's race. 
 
 You'll have to sweat and strive and toil, 
 
 You'll have to burn your midnight oil, 
 
 And do your very level best. 
 
 You won't have time to idly rest. 
 
 Of course you think the road is rough, 
 
 But then, the grave gives rest enough. 
 
 You can't day dream, you've got to work. 
 
 You cannot lie around and shirk, 
 
 For building castles in the air 
 
 Will never get you any where. 
 
 The world won't shake your calloused hand 
 And pat your back and say you're grand 
 It's far more apt to trod you under 
 
 II 
 
The Road to Success Not Bordered With Flowers 
 
 And point out each mistake and blunder. 
 'Twill criticise without cause sometimes 
 Altho this is one of the very worst crimes. 
 But the greatest men who have lived as yet 
 Grow greater the further sCway they get. 
 And the reason they crucified God's own son 
 Was because he couldn't please everyone. 
 
 12 
 
THE CHILLICOTHE FAIR 
 
 The folks all seem excited, 
 
 As they march around the square, 
 Listening to the bands play Dixie, 
 
 At the Chlllicothe Fair. 
 
 You can see the grand old Farmer, 
 With a smile upon his face, 
 
 As he takes his dear old woman 
 All around the Market Place. 
 
 And you bet yer bottom dollar 
 
 Just as sure as you wuz born, 
 He will take the highest prizes. 
 
 With his pumpkins, hogs and corn, 
 An' he'll smile and laugh and chuckle, 
 
 An' he'll treat you on the square, 
 If you'll take the time to greet him 
 
 At the Chillicothe Fair. 
 
 And the stars and stripes are hoisted, 
 You can see flags where you please; 
 They are smiling on the farmer, 
 
 13 
 
The Chillicothe Fair 
 
 As they float upon the breeze. 
 You can see the prancing horses, 
 
 And the cattle here and there, 
 As the brass bands play their music 
 
 At the Chillicothe Fair. 
 
 And his pretty smiling daughters 
 
 Show the rosy bloom of health, 
 As with sparkling eyes they greet you, 
 
 As you look upon their Wealth. 
 And their lovely, spotless virtue. 
 
 And their snowy teeth of pearl 
 Merit all the World's high honor 
 
 Oh, the pretty farmer's girl. 
 You can see his golden harvest, 
 
 As it spreads along the street. 
 You can hear the hum of voices. 
 
 And the sound of tramping feet. 
 Just look on the racks of fodder 
 
 Filled with all that they can hold. 
 
 14 
 
The Chillicothe Fair 
 
 And the tread of countless thousands 
 Gazing on the wreaths of gold. 
 
 Look upon his sons, admire them 
 
 In their manhood proud and grand, 
 As they give thier happy greeting; 
 
 Grasp their brown and honored hand! 
 They're not dressed perhaps in broad cloth 
 
 But they take a fearless stand. 
 You can't judge a man by clothing, 
 
 He might dress in rags so old, 
 But beneath his tattered garments 
 
 Beats a perfect heart of gold 
 
 Oh my grand and proud Missouri, 
 
 We will ever by thee stand; 
 We will ever sing thy praises 
 
 On the noisy old brass band; 
 And the Stars and Stripes shall flutter, 
 
 As thy sunlight proudly streams, 
 And Columbia smiles and beckons. 
 
 While the brave old eagle screams. 
 
 IS 
 
The Chillicothe Fair 
 
 Oh Missouri, Proud Missouri, 
 
 How thy hills and valleys spread, 
 As their yellow harvests glitter, 
 
 While the sun shines over head. 
 We will honor, love and praise thee; 
 
 We will breathe thee in our prayer, 
 As thy stars and stripes still glitter 
 
 At the Chillicothe Fair. 
 
 i6 
 
THE OLD FAMILY CIRCLE 
 
 I can see my dear old mother 
 
 Sitting at the cottage door. 
 Oh, those happy days of childhood, 
 
 If I could but live them o'er. 
 
 I can hear her softly singing 
 
 In the cold gray evening light. 
 In sweet tones with tears of sadness: 
 
 "Where's My Wandering Boy To-night." 
 
 I can feel the evening breezes 
 
 Cross the meadows brown and sere, 
 
 In that little family circle 
 I can see one vacant chair. 
 
 I can see my only brother 
 
 Through the twilight sadly roam, 
 
 And the sad thought often strikes me: 
 Do they miss me back at home.^ 
 
 My old Father softly slumbers 
 In the twilight's shadows gray, 
 
 17 
 
The Old Family Circle 
 
 But I hope in joy to meet him 
 On that glorious Judgment Day. 
 
 I can see them gazing Eastward 
 In the twilights's silvery gloam, 
 
 And I wonder if they miss me 
 From the circle back at home. 
 
 Oh, that little broken circle 
 I would love to see tonight, 
 
 With their glad and joyous welcome 
 They would fill me with delight. 
 
 I am humble and unworthy, 
 As through life I sadly roam, 
 
 But I loved to be remembered 
 By the folks all back at home. 
 
 I can see their smiles of gladness, 
 As success I proudly claim. 
 
 In that little family circle; 
 
 I can hear them speak my name. 
 
 i8 
 
The Old Family Circle 
 
 I am torn from their bosom; 
 
 Through this cold world I must roam, 
 But my heart is sadly longing 
 
 For I love them back at home. 
 
 But the years are swiftly passing 
 
 In their silence calm and sweet, 
 And that little broken circle 
 
 Once again will get to meet. 
 
 When the Pearly Gates are opened, 
 
 And I cross Death's silent foam, 
 I will meet my dear old Mother, 
 
 And the folks all back at home. 
 
 19 
 
STEPPING TOWARD THE GRAVE 
 
 'Twas only yesterday I stood 
 In Joy beside my Mother's knee. 
 
 In childhood's hour just yesterday 
 I cried and laughed in brightest glee. 
 
 Look! How the years are passing by, 
 The Winter's snow, the rose's bloom, 
 
 A few more tears, and then this clay 
 Shall molder in the silent tomb. 
 
 A few more steps, this weary load 
 
 In silence I will cast aside. 
 A few more sorrows and my bark 
 
 Will float upon Death's silvery tide. 
 
 Life hath its cloudy, dismal day. 
 
 A ray of sunshine lights the end. 
 Just one more step and I will leave 
 
 My nearest and my dearest friend. 
 
 The moments fly, the ages roll, 
 I see my angel mother stand 
 
 20 
 
Stepping Toward the Grave 
 
 Beckoning to me down the gulf of years 
 
 To cross Death's sea to that better land. 
 
 Just yesterday I stood a youth, 
 
 And drank amid life's sweetest joy, 
 
 And threw the precious hours away, 
 A reckless and a thoughtless boy. 
 
 If I could just call back the years, 
 And use the hours that hurried past, 
 
 I would not shudder when I leap 
 Into Eternity silent and vast. 
 
 Look! How the seasons come and go; 
 
 I feel Death's cold and chilling wave. 
 Just yesterday a speechless child. 
 
 Now one foot tottering in the grave. 
 
 Each heart beat drags me slowly down; 
 
 I'm sailing toward that distant clime. 
 Each hour, each second, speeds me on, 
 
 I'm drifting down the stream of time. 
 
 21 
 
Stepping Toward the Grave 
 
 I've let the years all slip away 
 
 And I'm useless now — just a guilty slave. 
 I've not done anything, and am weary for sleep; 
 
 Just one step from the silent grave. 
 
 22 
 
DESTINY 
 
 Where are we going? 
 
 Where shall we end? 
 Give me thy hand 
 
 E're I leave thee my friend! 
 Life hath its mystery, 
 
 And Death its woe; 
 The gold chord is broken, 
 
 And then we must go. 
 
 Eternity vast hath its fathomless deep. 
 
 These clay lips shall close 
 In Death's long, peaceful sleep. 
 
 An Eternity endless on either hand 
 When Life's frail thread is severed; 
 
 Oh where shall we stand? 
 
 No idling — No straying, 
 
 No laughter — No play; 
 Oh, where are you standing, 
 
 My Brother , today? 
 Where are we going? 
 
 Where shall we end? 
 Give me thy hand! 
 
 E're I leave thee, my friend, 
 
 23 
 
BEAUTIFUL SUNSET LAND 
 
 Torn from a bleeding heart away 
 
 The pride of my youthful bloom 
 Sweetly sleeps mid the roses of May. 
 
 In the shade of the cold gray tomb. 
 Those lovely eyes are forever closed. 
 
 That smile I shall see no more. 
 A cloud of sorrow enwraps my soul; 
 
 Those happy days are o'er. 
 A tender voice I used to hear 
 
 Now whispers no more of love, 
 But in sweetest dreams she is calling to me 
 
 From the mansions of Peace above. 
 
 Oft in the golden even tide 
 
 Hand in hand we wandered away, 
 And whispered tender words of love 
 
 Mid the roses and violets so gay, 
 And though above her little mound 
 
 The Winter winds blow chill, 
 And her rosy cheeks are pale in death 
 
 A fond heart mourns her still. 
 
 24 
 
Beautiful Sunset Land 
 
 And her deep blue eyes are forever closed, 
 That have smiled on me so grand, 
 
 As we gazed on the clouds of blue and gold 
 In that Beautiful Sunset Land. 
 
 Oh, those golden hours 
 
 Have fled on wings, 
 And closed are those lips of clay, 
 
 But I hope to meet my love again 
 In that home of eternal day. 
 
 I long to stand by her side once more 
 
 And smile on her soft blue eyes, 
 
 And press her to my heart again 
 Beyond the star-lit skies. 
 
 I long to smile on her golden locks, 
 And press her snowy hand, 
 
 And plant a kiss on her rosy lips 
 In that Beautiful Sunset Land. 
 
 25 
 
ASHES TO ASHES AND DUST TO DUST 
 
 Silently, laid in his youthful bloom, 
 
 'Neath the falling shades 
 
 Of the cold, gray tomb, 
 
 Where the autumn shadows fall silently round, 
 
 There lay him so softly and tenderly down. 
 
 There shall he lie in the mould and the rust, 
 Ashes to ashes and dust to dust; 
 And there in the twilight cold and gray, 
 His form shall rest till the Perfect Day. 
 
 His sorrows are over, his life work is done. 
 No rust shall corrode with the rising sun; 
 No moth shall devour, and no thieves shall 
 
 break in. 
 For his spirit has fled from the shadows of sin. 
 
 His form rests in peace 'neath the dew and 
 
 the sod. 
 And his soul marches on with the legions of God ; 
 In the sunshine of youth all his sorrows are o'er, 
 And he sings with the saints on that evergreen 
 
 shore. 
 
 26 
 
ABRAHAM LINCOLN 
 
 Yes, Lincoln arose from the humble, 
 To pilot the old "Ship of State," 
 
 And he fell as a grand, fearless Martyr 
 'Neath the grim silent message of Fate. 
 
 He saw this broad land washed in blood stain, 
 And the star spangled banner go down. 
 
 And beneath the foul footsteps of Treason 
 It was trod 'neath an enemy's frown. 
 
 But he stood by the down-trodden black race, 
 By the flag of his country and God, 
 
 And his fame shall march down through the 
 ages. 
 Though he sleeps 'neath the dew and the sod. 
 
 Rest on In thy slumbers! Oh Lincoln, 
 Till the glorious break of the dawn. 
 
 As the ages roll on in their splendor 
 Till their endless procession is gone. 
 
 27 
 
Abraham Lincoln 
 
 And thy deeds, thou immortal Lincoln, 
 Shall live on till the Perfect Day 
 
 When these pillars of cold gray marble 
 Shall have crumbled to ashes away. 
 
 28 
 
BE SOMEBODY 
 
 You've bummed 'round here 
 'Bout long enough, 
 Just show them you're made 
 Of the right kind of stuflF, 
 And "Be Some Body." 
 
 Don't lay 'round, drink whiskey. 
 
 And gamble and cuss, 
 
 And every five minutes get into a fuss! 
 
 Don't loaf on goods boxes, play cards and 
 
 dance! 
 Success will soon come if you give it a chance. 
 Don't fool around and waste time, 
 And gamble and play with the dungeons of Hell 
 Till they've led you astray. 
 But " Be Some Body." 
 
 The road is as easy, the pathway as light 
 Just to turn against the Wrong. 
 With your face toward the Right. 
 Start right now; do not tarry, and falter and 
 stop, 
 
 29 
 
Be Somebody 
 
 Push onward and upward, there's room at the top. 
 Please " Be Some Body." 
 
 What's the use to be ornery, 
 
 And shunned by the rest 
 When you might just as well 
 
 Be considered the best. 
 What's the use to be a drunkard 
 
 A laggard, a drone.'' 
 When you might just as well be a King on 
 throne. 
 
 What's the use to get nervous 
 
 Faint hearted and pale. 
 And think all the time 
 
 That you're going to fail.^ 
 Push right up to the front, 
 
 Strike hard when you hit! 
 Just show to the world. 
 
 You've got the grit! 
 For God's sake Brace up! 
 
 And "Be Some Body." 
 
 30 
 
TRUE WEALTH 
 
 I would rather live in a cottage small 
 
 Where the warbling birds of Springtime call 
 
 With a happy wife to love me dear, 
 
 And fill my heart with heavenly cheer, 
 
 And sweet contented children gay 
 
 To welcome me home at the close of day, 
 
 Than to live in a palace of marble and gold, 
 
 With the scorns of a Pride, 
 That is heartless and cold. 
 
 With the grandeur of wealth, 
 And the blindness of Power, 
 
 That can last at its most. 
 But a feverish hour. 
 
 I would rather look to that mansion above 
 To that home of peace and joy and love, 
 And that Wealth that fadeth not away 
 Which I shall claim on that Perfect Day. 
 
 31 
 
THEODORE ROOSEVELT 
 
 Let empires rise, and kingdoms fall, 
 
 And great men pass away. 
 Still may the glorious stars and stripes 
 
 Adorn the break of day. 
 
 Should Greece and Rome shake off their dust, 
 
 And gain their giant sway 
 They could not place a brighter star 
 
 On twilight's robes of gray. 
 
 Though England rears her Edwards great 
 
 Or Gladstones by the score, 
 How many Roosevelts can she place 
 
 On Times immortal shore. 
 
 Napoleon's men surprised the world 
 
 His navies wrecked the sea, 
 But Roosevelt's peaceful victories won 
 
 The great land of the free. 
 
 Let Caesar shed the rust of time 
 And cast aside the grave 
 
 32 
 
Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 To stare upon a greater Rome, 
 Than Europe ever gave. 
 
 Though Lincoln bound the nation's wounds 
 
 And greatness did display, 
 The dove of peace has hovered o'er 
 
 The ruler of our day. 
 
 May rulers rise to awe the world, 
 
 Their navies sweep the sea; 
 Long may such rulers hold in dower 
 
 The great land of the free. 
 
 Let Freedom's starry banner wave. 
 
 Let fleets the cannons roar 
 Until his gain has been the last 
 
 Of fame's unending store. 
 
 33 
 
THE DEVIL'S ''WANT COLUMN" 
 
 Wanted, a man that can blackguard and swear, 
 Wanted, a man that can get on a tear. 
 Wanted, a man that can puff cigarettes. 
 A man that plays cards, lies and gambles and 
 
 bets. 
 Wanted, a man that beats his wife. 
 That don't love his children or care for their 
 
 life. 
 Wanted, a man that has hurried through school 
 That has bummed 'round the stores 
 On a goods box or stool. 
 
 Wanted, a man, when the boss ain't at work, 
 That will lay 'round and sleep, 
 Have a good time and shirk. 
 One that talks 'bout his neighbors, 
 And cheats when he can. 
 One that don't go to Church — ' 
 
 He's the kind of a man. 
 Wanted, one that thinks more of style than 
 
 real needs 
 One that kills out the grass 
 
 34 
 
The Devil's Want Column 
 
 To give room for the weeds. 
 
 One that steals, hates his God 
 
 Robs poor widows and then — 
 
 For Hell is filled up to the top with such men. 
 
 35 
 
CHILDHOOD'S HAPPY HOURS 
 
 Take me back to childhood's hours, 
 Back among the birds and flowers. 
 Take my burdened soul along, 
 Let me hear the mock bird's song. 
 
 Let me see the meadows wide 
 
 With verdant forests on each side, 
 
 That I might live those sweet hours o'ei, 
 
 And visit memory's golden shore. 
 
 Throw aside my crown of care. 
 Take me back to mother dear, 
 That I might wander 'neath the trees 
 And hear the songs of birds and bees. 
 
 Take O, take me back once more, 
 Back to childhood's golden shore. 
 Let me hear the songs of birds, 
 Let me see the lowing herds. 
 
 Let me to the woodland go, 
 Where the sweetest breezes blow. 
 Take me back among the flowers. 
 Take me back to childhood's hours. 
 
 36 
 
THE DEAR OLD COUNTRY SCHOOL 
 
 The final day confronts us, 
 
 And we children all must part, 
 I cannot bear the sorrow. 
 
 That enwraps my broken heart. 
 
 Oh, well do I remember 
 
 How I learned my A. B. C's. 
 While the little birds sang praises 
 
 In all the leafy trees. 
 
 Dear happy faces greet me. 
 
 Sweet rosy cheeks, blue eyes 
 Will close in death — I'll meet them - 
 
 Beyond the starry skies. 
 
 Those were sweet bygone days, 
 When we romped in shadows cool. 
 
 We must part in tears and sorrow 
 In the dear old country school. 
 
 Oh, the dear old country school, 
 Oh, the dear old country school, 
 
 37 
 
The Dear Old Country School 
 
 Where the Teacher used to teach us, 
 With the dreaded hickory rule. 
 
 Oh, those days are all gone by, 
 And we cannot live them o'er 
 
 We will all gaze sadly backward 
 To fond Memory's golden shore. 
 
 We must all learn Life's hard lesson, 
 Time is listless cold and cruel. 
 
 There are things to not be mastered 
 In the dear old country school. 
 
 We will never meet again 
 
 'Neath the gray oak's shadows cool. 
 With the birds and bees and sunshine 
 
 In the dear old country school. 
 
 38 
 
THE CROSS-ROADS 
 
 In the bloom of youth as we look down the 
 silent vista of years, we behold two roadways 
 leading in opposite directions. 
 
 One is broad and beautiful, the other is 
 uninviting, and hard to follow. 
 
 The broadway is lined on either side with 
 beautiful flowers, and towering pines. 
 
 The helpless wanderer is lured to this side 
 and that by the soft mellow strains of the 
 sweetest music. 
 
 Beautiful women smilingly take him by the 
 hand and lead him blindly on. 
 
 Almost before he is aware he is standing be- 
 fore the bar. 
 
 Poor helpless wretch. He takes his first glass. 
 
 In his imagination, as he raises it to his lips 
 he can see his old gray haired mother beckoning 
 to him from the realms of Paradise, inploring 
 him, with tears in her eyes, to keep his promise 
 he had made her on her death-bed, to always 
 be a good boy. 
 
 39 
 
The Cross Roads 
 
 How his conscience stings him. 
 
 In his heart he avows to be a better man, 
 but his will power is gone. 
 
 He takes another glass, and still another. 
 
 He goes to the ball room, the gambling den, 
 the murderer's grave and Hell. 
 
 Alas — if he had only taken the other road! 
 
 I will grant, that it is narrow. 
 
 Here and there are hidden pitfalls. 
 
 Now and then a cloudy day, and a few 
 trials and troubles, a hill now and then to climb. 
 
 A tear now and then to shed, but they are 
 only tests, that fit us for all Eternity. 
 
 In the vigor of manhood, as you stand 
 ready you must travel one of these two roads. 
 
 One is broad, lined on either side with 
 flowers and sunshine, and leads to Hell. 
 
 The other is narrow, and filled with trials 
 and tribulations and leads to eternal life. 
 
 Which of these two roads will you travel? 
 
 40 
 
GREATNESS 
 
 What is greatness in this World 
 
 Full of sorrow and of strife? 
 That which heroes doth unfurl 
 
 On the battle field of Life. 
 
 It is not time's architects 
 
 Rising in their power and fame 
 Leaving Life's sea strewn with wrecks, 
 
 That deserve immortal name. 
 
 Tis the man with mind that's willing 
 
 To protect us for the Right. 
 To go forth in the wide world's battles, 
 
 And be victor in the fight. 
 
 Alexander was the victor 
 
 O'er the conquered men of Tyre, 
 
 But it did not make him greater 
 
 When he slew with sword and fire. 
 
 To be great we must know our weakness 
 
 For we come but from the clod, 
 And we're but the humbie'st creatures 
 
 Placed beneath the hand of God. 
 
 41 
 
COLUMBIA THE CONQUEROR 
 
 When England rose in boundless wrath 
 To harm her daughter o'er the sea, 
 
 She trampled in the narrow path, 
 That made our land of Liberty. 
 
 They came like Tyrants from a throne 
 
 Obedience to their laws compel, 
 But they by Right were o'er thrown. 
 
 And like the Romans rose and fell. 
 
 Yes, and their British blood was spilled 
 They sank upon a conquered knee. 
 
 Their greatest wishes were unfilled — 
 To rule this great land of the free. 
 
 The sons of men of Pilgrim fame 
 Stood like the mighty hosts of old. 
 
 Arose from their baptismal name, 
 And won the glorious land we hold. 
 
 They came not from the monarch's throne 
 To make some weaker people yield, 
 
 42 
 
Columbia, The Conqueror 
 
 They came not in their royal robes 
 To win fame on the battle field. 
 
 Our fathers left their homes of peace 
 To stand for sacred Rights of God, 
 
 The monarch's iron sway to cease, 
 And win the land on which we trod. 
 
 We are the men to face the storm 
 To watch the turning hands of Fate, 
 
 To stand through thrilling times of harm, 
 And rightly steer the "Ship of State." 
 
 Long may Columbia's banner wave 
 In peacefulfolds high in the air 
 
 To triumph o'er the conquered grave, 
 And stand in might for Freedom fair. 
 
 Long, long may live this glorious land; 
 
 Long may Columbia's banner wave. 
 Long may her peaceful glories stand 
 
 For homes of freedom and of brave. 
 
 43 
 
AFFECTION 
 
 I knelt before her smile in reverent thought 
 
 And pressed on her sweet lips a loving kiss. 
 I asked myself — What grander hath God 
 wrought? 
 These rosy cheeks the sweetest of Heaven's 
 bliss. 
 I squeezed her soft white hand in tender'st 
 care. 
 And pressed her to my heart in deepest love, 
 And from my eyes fell many a joyful tear 
 While the angels gazed in rapture from 
 Heaven above. 
 Her blue eyes smiled in precious love divine. 
 In golden ringlets hung her yellow hair, 
 And I softly whispered will you please "Be 
 Mine? 
 Though, I ill deserve your smile so pure 
 and fair. 
 And still I linger as the years roll by, 
 
 For just one kiss, and a smile from her deep 
 blue eye. 
 
 44 
 
IMMORTALITY 
 
 There is something mighty 
 
 Beyond Time's shining face, 
 
 Where Muses wander, 
 
 And the mystic chord 
 
 Strikes not the heart of mortal being. 
 
 Where the power of Worlds 
 
 Sits on the great white throne, 
 
 And beckons from the dim blue vaults- 
 
 To flying Time to leave no trace 
 
 Upon the endless chain of passing ages. 
 
 When Spirits sound the bugle blast, 
 
 And golden trains stop still, 
 
 When heated circuits are amazed, 
 
 And swinging globes fall 
 
 From accustomed paths. 
 
 When massive works are opened. 
 
 And the ringing accents 
 
 Pierce the distant caves: 
 
 When Creation's King stands unarrayed 
 
 And mystic secrets lie unfold 
 
 45 
 
Immortality 
 
 The mightiest of the mighty 
 
 Commingle and converse condition's goal. 
 
 The tiniest flower that decks the water's edge 
 
 Unfolds the self same tale 
 
 Of valued volumes old 
 
 Springs from the darkened mould 
 
 Blooms, falls to clay again to spring 
 
 In Future's son and shower 
 
 Continues thus through Nature's passing train. 
 
 Night's silvery lamp 
 
 Or daylight's massive beacon 
 
 Arises in the start, 
 
 And sees it to the end, 
 
 But as we see adorns another spell, 
 
 And nothing is destroyed, 
 
 But changed in form, 
 
 Oh, Master of Nations 
 
 Builder and destroyer of Worlds 
 
 Shape thee our destinies, 
 
 46 
 
Immortality 
 
 As thou woulds't do. 
 
 We are as it were 
 
 A pinch of mortal dust 
 
 Cast careless on the winds, 
 
 To fall to sordid earth, 
 
 And spring in Heaven's light. 
 
 Or go sadly down to eternal fires, 
 
 And everlasting Death. 
 
 As we select beyond the Pearly gates 
 
 Or join that endless throng. 
 
 Where Satan rules supreme. 
 
 47 
 
LOST 
 
 I heard a voice from out Eternity, 
 
 Echoing down the silent vista of years, 
 In accents dim, disconsolate and free. 
 
 With a maddened glare I gazed through 
 bitter tears. 
 I saw a dim, weird specter wrapped in white, 
 
 Beckoning to me to cross the silent wave. 
 I felt the chilling frosts of Death's cold blight, 
 
 And 'round me fell the darkness of the grave. 
 The black and angry billows 'round me lashed. 
 
 I heard the tolling of the gurgling knell. 
 My frail bark on the waves then madly dashed. 
 
 I said then — ^Tell me. Specter, is this Hell? 
 
 I listened to the weeping of the lost, 
 
 The hopeless wail and gnashing then of teeth. 
 My poor soul then in glaring flame was tossed. 
 
 Where I, throughout all time, must groan 
 and writhe 
 He drew his bloody dagger from my heart. 
 
 He then rose slowly from the silent strife. 
 His grinning skeleton echoed "Thou are Lost" 
 
 Go on thou Wretch. This is Eternal Life. 
 48 
 
"PEACE ON EARTH, GOOD WILL TO 
 MEN" 
 
 Night's silvery veil hung low 
 On the Jordan's golden flow, 
 And the hills and valleys round 
 Echoed with a holy sound. 
 And bright angels seemed to fly 
 From beyond the star-lit sky. 
 
 All the prophecies foretold. 
 From Creation grand and old 
 How God's legends had unfurled, 
 From the making of the World 
 Of the coming of that gem 
 On the plains of Bethlehem. 
 
 Gold winged Seraphs led the way, 
 In the twilight's silvery gray, 
 And sweet Anthems softly rose 
 On the morning's deep repose. 
 And words sounded from the glen 
 "Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men." 
 
 49 
 
Peace On Earth, Good Will To Man 
 
 In the manger cradle lay, 
 At the break of golden Day 
 'Neath the gaze of sages wise 
 Led there 'neath the starlit skies. 
 Led to where Sweet Mary lay 
 In the morning cold and gray. 
 
 Through the marble halls of time 
 Through the reign of War and Crime 
 Since he died upon the cross, 
 We have suffered from his loss. 
 
 Upward then he turned his eyes. 
 Toward the clear and crystal skies. 
 And his spirit grand and true 
 Said "They know not what they do 
 Cursed I am, but leave them free 
 On these plains of Galilee." 
 And beneath that crown of thorns 
 Mangled with the captors scorns 
 Suffered, died, ascended then 
 Christ, who died for good of men. 
 
 SO 
 
Peace On Earthy Good Will To Man 
 
 Live thou on Oh precious Lamb! 
 Ring thou bells of Bethlehem! 
 Sing thy praises just as then, 
 "Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men." 
 
 SI 
 
DRIFTING 
 
 We are drifting, drifting, drifting. 
 Toward that cold and silent clime. 
 
 We are drifting, drifting, drifting, 
 Down the silent stream of time. 
 
 Idle tears and bitter heartaches. 
 Pale, cold faces haunt my dream, 
 
 With the moaning of the billows. 
 As I float along the stream. 
 
 Man without a purpose falters. 
 With a face down cast and pale, 
 
 Like a ship without a rudder. 
 He will sink before the gale. 
 
 In the great eternal silence 
 Soon the ages glide away. 
 
 And the chilling frosts of autumn 
 Kill the lovely flowers of May. 
 
 In sad tears I often wonder 
 
 Why some men will drift along, 
 
 S2 
 
Drifting 
 
 With their weary lives still trailing 
 In the thorny path of Wrong. 
 
 Why will man imperial, God-like, 
 
 Stoop to be a shackeled slave? 
 Why will men who might be angels 
 
 Fill at last a drunkard's grave? 
 
 There are men who stand and beckon, 
 And their ragged ranks still swell, 
 
 As they stagger, poor sad outcasts, 
 Down that awful path to Hell. 
 
 How their poor souls shriek in torture 
 
 How their bleared eyes fill with tears! 
 
 As their trembling, feeble, footsteps 
 Sweep the silent gulf of years. 
 
 Why should you, my dearest brother, 
 Drop your oars then by your side! 
 
 While your bark without a Pilot 
 Drifts and floats along the tide. 
 
 53 
 
Drifting 
 
 Who could not float with the current? 
 
 Who could not drift with the crowd? 
 Just to hear their noisy plaudits, 
 
 As they ring so grand and loud. 
 
 But to row against the current 
 Takes a different kind of man. 
 
 You must crush all opposition. 
 You must have a steadfast plan. 
 
 Yes the crowds will hiss and jeer you, 
 They will scorn you in their pride. 
 
 But no man ever reached the top 
 By drifting with the tide. 
 
 Have and ideal grand and lofty 
 
 In the distance high and far. 
 Strive and pray still toiling onward 
 
 Ever upward toward your star. 
 
 54 
 
THE SEPARATION 
 
 Oh, could I but recall that morn 
 
 My heart was filled with sinful scorn 
 
 When last I pressed her to my heart; 
 
 Twas not to be. We had to part. 
 
 How dear she was? How sweet her smile. 
 
 Her face, it haunts me all the while. 
 
 She was my first, my only love; 
 
 The Seraphs smiled from heaven above. 
 
 While I gazed into her calm gray eyes 
 
 More beautiful than summer skies. 
 
 I mourn that loss, and always will; 
 
 I wonder if she loves me still. 
 
 I wonder if that raven hair, 
 
 So young, so beautiful and fair 
 
 Is streaked with gray? 
 
 I weep, I mourn, I turn away; 
 
 I would not, could not bear to stay, 
 
 That graceful form I still can see; 
 
 I wonder if she thinks of me. 
 
 If I could hold her hand in mine 
 
 And gaze into those eyes divine, 
 
 55 
 
Separation 
 
 And call her once again my own, 
 
 This broken heart would cease to moan. 
 
 Betrothed were we. The day was set; 
 
 Long years have gone, I love her yet. 
 
 When we think of each the tear drop starts 
 
 From two once fond now broken hearts. 
 
 Could I, ere life's short pace is gone, 
 
 Recall love's sweet and rosy dawn, 
 
 My heart would leap from sorrow's chill, 
 
 I love her now and always will. 
 
 56 
 
HAVE FAITH IN GOD 
 
 Have faith in God though black the storm 
 
 clouds roll, 
 And weary heart aches wear upon thy soul. 
 While here on earth your spirit finds no rest 
 Still believe in God. He knoweth what is best. 
 Men's ways may seem the wiser for a while, 
 Especially when Dame Fortune seems to smile. 
 His vast and long drawn purpose may seem 
 
 dim 
 But doubter lose not faith; believe still in him. 
 This universe was never made by chance. 
 Despite all theories infidels advance. 
 Ye doubters whom His mercy still forgives, 
 Down in your heart of hearts ye know he lives. 
 While yet your faltering feet earth's path ways 
 
 plod 
 Before it is too late have faith in God. 
 
 57 
 
GOING WEST 
 
 It's not so bad to go out West 
 
 When you are sure you've done your best, 
 
 To greet the silvery evening star 
 
 When comes the hour to cross the bar. 
 
 It's not so bad to go out West, 
 
 And in the twiHght sink to rest, 
 
 If passing o'er Death's crystal sea 
 
 Will make the world forever free. 
 
 It's not so bad to give your all, 
 And on the field of battle fall 
 If by your death, the world shall be 
 Made safer for democracy. 
 It's not so bad to go out West 
 Among Isles in their verdure drest, 
 If you must perish that your name 
 May shine upon the roll of fame. 
 
 It's not so bad to go out West, 
 
 And in Death's vestments bright be drest, 
 
 If going West to mankind brings 
 
 58 
 
Going West 
 
 A finish to the rule of kings. 
 
 If our bright flag will grander shine 
 
 By falling in the battle line, 
 
 When all the world may thus be blest, 
 
 It's not so bad to go out West. 
 
 It's not so bad to go out West 
 And leave men such a rich bequest 
 To crush vast hosts that loudly brag, 
 When they insult our star lit flag. 
 'Twere better far we all were dead 
 Than have the Germans say they tread 
 Where heroes of our past now rest. 
 It's not so bad to go out West. 
 
 59 
 
OUR NATIONAL FLAG 
 
 Its brilliant color of flaming red 
 
 Is the precious blood of our hero dead. 
 
 Its shining stripes of purest white, 
 
 From the milky way that streaks the night. 
 
 And its stars are set in a field of blue 
 
 The same as that of the sky's own hue. 
 
 It stands for a nation proud and free 
 
 As it floats on the masts of our ships at sea, 
 
 And Freedom's angels in radiance stand 
 
 As an honor guard while it waves o'er land, 
 
 For Washington ordered its fair folds made. 
 
 And Lincoln died for it unafraid. 
 
 They offered all and from Heaven drew 
 
 Its colors of red and white and blue. 
 
 At Lexington commons it made men thrill. 
 
 Its spirit triumphed at Bunker Hill, 
 
 At Gettysburg all men agree 
 
 Its bright folds made a whole race free. 
 
 Its colors bade men keep alive 
 
 In the crimson fiow of the Argonne drive. 
 
 60 
 
Our National Flag 
 
 The more men know it, the more they love 
 
 Its folds that float in the sky above. 
 
 The nations know it and with delight 
 
 Gaze at its blue and red and white. 
 
 Hats off all around the world 
 
 When our flag is seen with its stars unfurled, 
 
 For queens, and princes, and kings all know 
 
 It doesn't wave there in empty show, 
 
 For generals would spring up on every hill, 
 
 And armies with untold millions until 
 
 The old flag glittering with brilliant stars 
 
 And rippling fair with its silvery bars 
 
 Was victor proud in the bloody fight 
 
 Though the world arise in its iron might. 
 
 The ghosts of our heroes from other wars 
 From their graves would rise with their honored 
 
 scars 
 And our brave boys resting in Flanders field 
 Would never slumber and see us yield. 
 Till the last man there in the last ditch died 
 
 6i 
 
Our National Flag 
 
 Fighting to brighten our nation's pride, 
 Till the last red cent of our wealth was gone 
 And every drop of our hearts blood drawn, 
 We'd fight, fight, fight, in that greatest of wars 
 For the crimson stripes and the silver stars. 
 
 62 
 
A DIAMOND IN THE ROUGH 
 
 You can not start with a monkey 
 
 And develop him into a man, 
 Nor a rose bush into a thorn tree 
 
 Though you try it again and again. 
 The great things are never accomplished 
 
 By the man who is only a bluff 
 For a man to be shaped to a diamond 
 
 Must be made of the diamond stuff. 
 
 The great schools may whittle and polish 
 
 And succeed well in hiding the worst 
 But never in life will he rise high 
 
 With out that ability first. 
 Mediocrity baffles his efforts 
 
 Though trying he seems hard enough, 
 He can never be shaped to a diamond 
 
 Unless make of the diamond stuff. 
 
 The great triumphs of intellect dazzling 
 And great though they certainly are 
 Can never be wrought by low talent 
 
 63 
 
A Diamond in The Rough 
 
 Such minds never rise very far. 
 So friend of small talent, strive upward, 
 
 Though it seems Fate has treated you rough, 
 For a man to be shaped to a diamond 
 
 Must be made of the diamond stuff. 
 
 64 
 
THE WAY TO HAPPINESS 
 
 Get all of the joy that you can 
 
 From out of this life while you live, 
 Remembering always that you 
 
 Can't get more out of life than you give. 
 Not happiness born out of lust, 
 
 Not passions that cling to the flesh, 
 But joys of a cultured mind 
 
 That are ever immortal and fresh. 
 
 Happiness comes but to those 
 
 Who try to help others to live 
 As the children of God that love 
 
 And strive to uplift and forgive. 
 Great wealth does not happiness bring 
 
 Fine mansions oft' hold sad hearts. 
 Too often, down here in this life, 
 
 We rank morals with the lost arts. 
 Get all of the happiness, friend. 
 
 In this life here on earth that you can, 
 But be most sure when you're dead 
 
 All the world can say "there lived a man." 
 
 65 
 
The Way to Happiness 
 
 Your talents were given to use. 
 
 Have you genius? Thank Heaven today. 
 Develop your body and mind. Do not let 
 your gifts rust away. 
 Thus only is happiness found. Thus only 
 can joy be yours. 
 While your spirit still clings to the flesh, 
 On Time's cold and merciless shores. 
 
 66 
 
TODAY 
 
 The long creeping shadows of eventide play. 
 What have I done to help mankind today? 
 What have I done with each God given hour 
 To uplift the fallen, to increase my power? 
 Have I wasted my time in this day's brief so- 
 journ? 
 Have I squandered the hours that shall never 
 
 return? 
 What have I done with the seconds sublime 
 That glitter like jewels in the hour glass of time? 
 Have I used every moment with trembling and 
 
 fear 
 Just as if 'twere the last I would ever spend 
 
 here ? 
 In this life with its joys and its sorrows ahead, 
 Have I shirked from my duty with terror and 
 
 dread? 
 Or have I stood up like a dauntless soul can 
 And finished each task that was mine, like a 
 
 man 
 Well knowing this day may for me be the last, 
 
 (>7 
 
Today 
 
 Well knowing the years of this life are soon 
 
 passed. 
 If I should sink down to my death yet tonight 
 And my spirit should pass to the kindoms of 
 
 light, 
 What all have I done with real painstaking care 
 To make of this day the best day in the year. 
 
 68 
 
THOUGH THE PATH BE RUGGED, WE'LL 
 CLIMB 
 
 We have started 'mid youth's fragrant Spring- 
 tide 
 
 To scale the steep summit of life 
 While the bright golden gates of the morning 
 
 Bid God speed as we enter the strife. 
 The road that we take shall be thorny. 
 
 Fame's path is not bordered with flowers, 
 So the only way to greatness 
 
 Is to toil while the chance is ours. 
 Each day shall bring sunshine and sorrow. 
 
 Each victory thus won is sublime. 
 For us there is no failure. 
 
 Though the path be rugged we'll climb. 
 
 The road to success is not easy. 
 
 If we walk those high paths, we must work, 
 For the midnight oil and the effort 
 
 Was not meant for the soul who'd shirk. 
 There are pitfalls and snares to encounter. 
 
 Temptation's dark doors open wide. 
 
 69 
 
Though The Path Be Rugged, Well Climb 
 
 False friends with their sharp darts of envy 
 
 Stand ready to humble our pride. 
 But still we shall climb toward the summit 
 
 Of the tall frowning mountain of life, 
 And defeat shall be turned into victory 
 
 Though sorrow and tears shall be rife. 
 For engraved on our hearts is this motto 
 
 "Aim high, trust in God, do your best." 
 We'll rise every time that we stumble 
 
 As we toil toward the dizzy crest. 
 When our life's sun hath reached to its zenith 
 
 Which shall be in its own good time. 
 We shall scale the heights of our journey. 
 
 Though the path be rugged, we'll climb. 
 
 When lastly our sun starts to lower 
 Toward the steeps of the western sky. 
 
 When our hearts feel the twilight shadows 
 And the years in their solitude fly. 
 
 As the stars of our evening shine brightly. 
 And the cold frosts of age slowly fall, 
 
 70 
 
Though The Path Be Rugged, We'll Climb 
 
 May the crown of success grace our temples 
 
 As our feeble steps move toward the pall. 
 When the darkness of night o'ertakes us 
 
 When we sink into peaceful rest, 
 May we then wear our laurels of victory 
 
 W^hen our sun shall have sunk in the West. 
 May our good deeds be sung by the angels 
 
 After marble has crumbled to dust. 
 Let our character shine like a jewel 
 
 'Mid the shadows of Time's damp rust, 
 That others who scale life's steep mountain 
 
 May inscribe as their motto sublime 
 These words, if need be, with their heart's 
 blood, 
 
 "Though the path be rugged, we'll climb." 
 
 71 
 
EASY STREET 
 
 The man who is living on Easy Street, 
 
 Unconsciously tells of his own defeat. 
 
 He tells the world of his lack of grit, 
 
 How his job for him was a great misfit. 
 
 In a safe retreat from life's hard din. 
 
 He tells his friends what he might have been. 
 
 His neighbors know it but hate to tell 
 
 To his face, the truth they know so well. 
 
 But the fact remains, he's lost his nerve, 
 
 And the world will give him his just deserve 
 
 His brain power has weakened, his hands are 
 
 white. 
 He's lost life's battle and shakes with fright, 
 While his brother idlers, he now can greet 
 As he cumbers the side walks of Easy Street. 
 
 His back bone has weakened, poor limber thing 
 Till it bends with the ease of an apron string. 
 His courage has vanished, he ambles along 
 With scarcely a nod from the passing throng. 
 Retired from his task, he is taking the shade 
 
 72 
 
Easy Street 
 
 With the most shiftless idlers the Lord has 
 
 made. 
 Society women now kill each day 
 With the nice little nothings they do and say. 
 They soothe his soul with their dancing and 
 
 whist, 
 And play with the truth they so carelessly 
 
 twist. 
 Perhaps they'll present him a loving cup 
 To bolster his drooping spirit up, 
 Till he thinks his station is hard to beat 
 As he loafs 'mid the pleasures of Easy Street. 
 
 The road to achievement was harder to go. 
 So he picked out a path, he could travel slow, 
 To row with the current and not up stream, 
 To always be popular rather than steam 
 To the lofty pitch where he'd lose some friends 
 Who were not worth keeping, to gain his ends. 
 The road of the lesser resistance smiles, 
 And beckons him onward for miles and miles 
 
 73 
 
Easy Street 
 
 Till the Palace of Failure invites him in 
 With his back bone of rubber and Jay bird chin, 
 Till he sinks to the depths of a nameless grave 
 Tho' the world regarded him once as brave. 
 That's what he gets for his swift retreat 
 To the soul killing pleasures of Easy Street. 
 
 74 
 
AMERICA 
 
 America, thy name sublime 
 
 Shall echo down the eons of time. 
 
 Thy sons are brave, thy daughters fair 
 
 As ever breathed sweet Freedom's air. 
 
 From North to South. 
 
 From East to West, 
 
 The nations say 
 
 That thou art blest. 
 
 Thy banner with its silvery stars 
 
 Upon the gold embroidered bars 
 
 Of sun set, waves from sea to sea 
 
 O'er this great land where men are free. 
 
 Its silken folds are world renowned. 
 
 Its furls have never touched the ground. 
 
 Thy sons, praise God, though die they must. 
 
 Shall never let it trail the dust. 
 
 Thy fame has spread. Thy mighty sons, 
 Thy Lincolns and thy Washingtons 
 With lives so great, with deeds so grand 
 Like lonely mountain peaks shall stand. 
 
 75 
 
America 
 
 Bright beacon lights their deeds shall be 
 To guide the world, oh God, for thee. 
 Fair Liberty can can smile in pride 
 That men like these have lived and died. 
 
 Thou shalt not fall. On History's page 
 Thy fame shall live from age to age. 
 Thy gallant dead from wars gone by 
 Who in their earthly beds now lie 
 Would rise from their green graves to fight 
 A foreign nation's brutal might. 
 They could not sleep in death and see 
 Their sons kneel on a conquered knee. 
 
 As long as thou hast sons to fight 
 Thy battles in the cause of Right, 
 Until thy entire wealth is gone. 
 And thy last drop of blood is drawn, 
 Thy daughters pure shall never know 
 The chains forged by a foreign foe. 
 Thy children shall not walk as slaves 
 Where thy star spangled flag now waves. 
 
 76 
 
NEVER GIVE UP 
 
 There's a niche if you wish to attain it 
 In the grand shining temple of fame 
 
 Where the world can smile sweetly forever 
 As it hears the loud praise of your name. 
 
 There are heights of achievement more lofty 
 
 Than proud Alexander e'er trod. 
 Great deeds have not all been accomplished 
 
 That were planned by an all wise God. 
 
 The golden age lies in the future. 
 
 Have courage my brother and strive 
 To do more than the past has accomplished 
 
 Show man kind you're really alive. 
 
 What's the use my dear friend to be grouchy 
 And sick half the time with the blues 
 
 In a world filled with music and sun shine 
 Which is yours if you only but choose. 
 
 There is only one road to achievement 
 If you wish to drink out of Fame's cup. 
 
 No difference how much you're defeated 
 Toil onward and never give up. 
 
 11 
 
BACK AT HOME 
 
 'Tis a humble little cottage 
 
 Nestled there amid the pines 
 With the golden sun lit splendor 
 
 Falling o'er the purple vines, 
 Where the fragrant roses blossom 
 
 In their beauty near the door, 
 And the silvery brook still murmurs 
 
 Its sweet music as of yore. 
 
 Where the rows of flaming maples 
 
 Cast their foliage to the ground. 
 And the song birds leave the north land 
 
 For a happier climate bound, 
 And my soul is sad and lonely 
 
 As I grope here through the gloam 
 For I fancy that they miss me 
 
 From the fire side back at home. 
 
 And a little woman stands there 
 
 Watching, waiting, all the while. 
 In fond fancy, I can see her 
 
 78 
 
Back at Home 
 
 With that gentle, winning smile, 
 Then a tear hid from the children, 
 
 For the days wear long and slow, 
 And the weary months drag heavily 
 
 Till the time shall come to go. 
 
 Then the baby yes the flaxen haired, 
 
 And blue eyed little Merl 
 With smile that will not wear away. 
 
 With teeth as white as pearl, 
 I fancy I can see him now 
 
 Stand in his little box 
 And crying "daddy" as all day. 
 
 He weeps and crawls and walks, 
 And wears his blue, white dotted dress. 
 
 And throws his dog and ball. 
 I oft times wonder if he doubts 
 
 His "dad" shall come at all. 
 
 Then gray eyed, laughing Francis dear 
 With soul so bright and gay. 
 
 79 
 
Back at Home 
 
 Each hour my fancy knows he asks 
 
 "Will daddy come today?" 
 And there my eldest lad stands up 
 
 And will some anger hurl, 
 When mamma asks him to help care 
 
 For laughing little Merl. 
 
 Oh no, it's not a palace vast 
 
 Of marble, bronze, and gold. 
 With statues, busts, and paintings rare, 
 
 Whose value is untold. 
 'Tis just a humble little place 
 
 From which I dread to roam. 
 But love is there, and that is what 
 
 It takes to make a home. 
 
 80 
 
HEAVEN ON EARTH 
 
 There's heaven on earth if we seek it. 
 
 There's sunshine that each one should know. 
 The star spangled skies smile above us 
 
 And the green velvet valleys below. 
 The sweet roses blossom in gladness 
 
 And the birds sing in joy all day long. 
 The angels would gladly leave heaven 
 
 To live here where life is a song. 
 
 To breathe the sweet fragrance of May time 
 
 Or the clover fields knee deep in June, 
 Or to dream of the days gone for ever, 
 
 When we listened to love's sweet tune, 
 Or to hear those old songs of my child hood, 
 
 That I learned when my life was so free 
 In the dusk of the years that have flown, 
 
 Is Heaven enough for me. 
 
 8i 
 
THE RECONCILIATION 
 
 If you would only love me 
 
 My darling little girl, 
 The angels beyond the starlit skies 
 
 Would smile from their gates of pearl. 
 
 The clouds would change into sunshine 
 
 And the darkest hour into day. 
 I can see thy blue eyes smiling 
 
 As I look in the distance away. 
 
 Now darling don't you love me still.'' 
 Will you promise to ever be true? 
 
 For I shall ever love you dear, 
 No other one but you. 
 
 And now that you left me weeping 
 When you left 'mid the roses of May, 
 
 How many tears have you shed for me 
 Since you left on that summer day. 
 
 How many heart aches have you had? 
 My thoughts are all with thee. 
 
 82 
 
The Reconciliation 
 
 How many prayers my darling dear 
 Have you breathed to heaven for me? 
 
 Hark! Tis the sound of foot steps 
 
 And the door is open wide, 
 And the girl is standing before me 
 
 That once was my happy bride. 
 
 In a loving embrace she enfolds me 
 
 And she showers me with kisses and tears 
 
 And we knelt at the grave of our little child 
 That we lost in the by-gone years. 
 
 83 
 
"IF YOU CAN'T SPEAK WELL OF PEOPLE 
 DON'T SAY ANTYHING AT ALL." 
 
 As you travel life's hard journey 
 
 From the cradle to the grave, 
 And you see men's petty weakness 
 
 Side by side with heroes brave, 
 Try to see the good in people 
 
 You will find it if you look. 
 Good is in the blackest villain 
 
 That you ever under took. 
 
 Scatter sunshine in your pathway. 
 
 Lift your fallen brother up; 
 Do not try to kick him downward, 
 
 Sprinkle kindness from your cup. 
 Don't speak slightly of your neighbor, 
 
 Let the seeds of sunshine fall, 
 If you can't say something cheerful 
 
 Don't say anything at all. 
 
 Scatter flowers along your pathway. 
 Let the sweet canaries sing. 
 
 84 
 
// You Can't Speak Well of People^ Say Noth- 
 ing at All 
 
 If you haven't tried it, do so! 
 
 It will make of you a King. 
 Life to you is what you make it. 
 
 It is true some men will fall. 
 If you cant' speak of their virtue 
 
 Don't say anthying at all. 
 
 Don't be telling of their weakness. 
 
 You are not the one to say. 
 Try to cheer the poor old widow, 
 
 Try to make life bright and gay. 
 Judge not, you may be found wanting; 
 
 Don't be low and mean and small. 
 If you cannot justly praise them 
 
 Don't^say^anything at all. 
 
 Don't justj.look^for faults; you'll find them 
 
 Anywhere you chance to trod. 
 Do not try the dangerous quicksand. 
 
 Do not drift that far from God. 
 Don't get way down there in Life's scale, 
 
 85 
 
// You Can't Speak Well of People, Say Noth- 
 ing at All 
 
 In the mud and muck and mire, 
 If you look for faults or virtues 
 
 You will find what you desire. 
 Don't pick flaws while traveling downward 
 
 Towards the shadow of the Pall; 
 If you can't speak of men's praises 
 
 Don't say anything at all. 
 
 Lend a strong arm to the helpless, 
 
 Try to make your life worth while; 
 Cheer the poor sad hearted orphan 
 
 With a kind word and a smile. 
 Let the roses bloom in fragrance, 
 
 Where your steps by chance may fall; 
 If you can't speak good of people 
 
 Don't say anything at all. 
 
 86 
 
THE PILGRIM FATHERS 
 
 The white chief trods the silent course. 
 
 Where Warriors winged their way. 
 A prouder man than Caesar walked 
 
 In Rome's imperial day. 
 
 The wailing pines on the ocean shore, 
 
 Their Northern welcomes sing, 
 As the solemn sound of song and prayer 
 
 Through pathless forests ring. 
 
 No more the painted Warrior 
 Leaves his tracks upon the sand; 
 
 No more the peaceful settler falls 
 Beneath his bloody hand. 
 
 The golden sun comes from the East 
 
 To shade the Western glen. 
 And throw his glorious shadows 
 
 On a higher race of men. 
 
 The Pilgrim fathers braved the storm 
 Across the billowed way, 
 
 87 
 
The Pilgrim Fathers 
 
 And built their roaring camp fires 
 Where a nation's cradle lay. 
 
 Around the roaring camp they sang 
 
 Of England's mountains gray; 
 Of marble statues, castle walls, 
 And Ruler's merciless sway. 
 
 They left their childhood's happy home 
 
 To worship thus afar; 
 To pierce a burning desert wide, 
 
 Beneath a Western Star. 
 
 They made an altar of the oak, 
 
 A temple of the sky. 
 To live and worship as they pleased 
 
 Their mighty God on high. 
 
 What have they done.? The heathen cries, 
 
 As comes the mighty throng 
 When all the nation joins in chorus 
 
 In one grand solemn song. 
 
The Pilgrim Fathers 
 
 When o'er the city's constant din 
 
 The flag of freedom looms, 
 And from the mountain's snowy height 
 
 The rusty cannon booms. 
 
 The prided yankee straightens up, 
 
 And says in quick reply: 
 This is the most almighty power 
 
 That stands beneath the sky. 
 
 The Pilgrim Father's children rise, 
 
 A nation 'neath their sway 
 Has risen in the golden West 
 
 To grace the Judgment Day. 
 
 Those grand old men have fallen, 
 
 Not upon the field of Wrath; 
 In the march of flying legions 
 
 They have crossed time's silent path. 
 
 No marble statues tell their deeds 
 Of battles bravely won 
 
 89 
 
The Pilgrim Fathers 
 
 Upon New England's rocky plains 
 Beneath a burning sun. 
 
 May Empires fall to silent dust, 
 
 And fondest hearts decay, 
 To leave their deeds like vespers shine 
 
 Upon the twilight's gray. 
 
 90 
 
THE RESURRECTION 
 
 The silver bells of Paradise 
 
 Shall toll in mournful rhyme, 
 And the silent graves shall open 
 
 On the cold dumb shores of time. 
 
 The Nations of the earth shall stand 
 
 In solemn vast array, 
 The crystal skies shall quickly melt 
 
 In fervent heat away. 
 
 The Master of the earth shall part 
 
 The Nations left and right, 
 And all his legions then shall stand 
 
 In Heaven's holy light. 
 
 The spirits of the lost will sink 
 
 In terror wild and dire; 
 Their weeping wretched souls shall burn 
 
 In awful lakes of fire. 
 
 The tortures of an awful Hell 
 Will blast immortal bloom, 
 
 91 
 
The Resurrection 
 
 A living death will be the end 
 Of Time's remorseless doom. 
 
 The holy saints of Paradise 
 Will sing in deathless song, 
 
 And sweetest peace will fall around 
 That great and silent throng. 
 
 The mortal sons of men shall speak 
 
 From silent lips of clay, 
 And sing around the throne of God 
 
 Upon that Perfect Day. 
 
 92 
 
OLD SWEETHEART DAYS 
 
 Give to me my cottage, and my little sweet- 
 heart gay 
 
 Whose smiles and warm embraces can be mine 
 the entire day, 
 
 Whose rosy lips with kisses sweet are waiting 
 my return 
 
 Each evening with what money from my labor 
 I can earn. 
 
 Give to me my sweetheart whose bright eyes of 
 heavenly blue 
 
 In silent language tell me that her love is ever 
 true. 
 
 And I'll forego all honors that this world per- 
 chance would heap 
 Upon my name. Their plaudits and their 
 fame they well may keep. 
 
 Give to me my sweetheart with her children 
 
 at my knees 
 Within our little cottage 'neath the golden 
 
 maple trees 
 
 93 
 
Old Sweetheart Days 
 
 Beside the silvery brooklet where the amber 
 
 sunlight falls, 
 And purple vines are creeping o'er the little 
 
 cottage walls, 
 And I'll have all the heaven that this life on 
 
 earth can bring, 
 A joyous love unknown to the palace of a king. 
 Give to me my sweetheart and my fireside 
 
 bright and warm, 
 And we will travel westward toward Death's 
 
 twilight arm in arm. 
 
 Give to me my sweetheart who will love me 
 when I fail. 
 
 And fall on life's hard journey with a spirit 
 broke and frail, 
 
 The same as when I'm climbing up the dazz- 
 ling heights of fame 
 
 When all the world does honor to the splendor 
 of my name. 
 
 Give to me my sweetheart who will ornament 
 my home 
 
 94 
 
Old Sweetheart Days 
 
 With love and joy and sunshine when my soul 
 
 would cease to roam. 
 And you can take your greatness with its 
 
 emptiness and frills, 
 And with my true love smiling 'mid the fra- 
 grance of the hills, 
 We'll live in peace and gladness where the 
 
 blushing roses bloom. 
 Where blue birds sweetly warble 'mid the 
 
 Springtime's rare perfume 
 And fleeting Time can vanish on Life's storm 
 
 tossed billowy foam 
 While we embrace with kisses in our cozy little 
 
 home. 
 
 95 
 
OUR FALLEN HEROES 
 
 Let our heroes sleep in peace 
 
 Neath the flowers of martyred France, 
 In that brave land of the free 
 
 Where they stopped the foe's advance. 
 Let them slumber where they fought 
 
 For the land they loved so well. 
 Costly marble shafts and bronze 
 
 Their bright deeds shall nobly tell. 
 On the hearts of all man kind 
 
 That proud story is engraved 
 How they shed their life's red blood 
 
 For the flag their courage saved. 
 
 May Columbia's angels guard 
 
 By their green and narrow bed 
 Where our star lit banner floats 
 
 O'er that army of the dead. 
 Let them sleep in Flanders fields 
 
 Where the crimson poppies blow, 
 In the Argonne where they saw 
 
 Their life's blood like water flow. 
 
 96 
 
Our Fallen Heroes 
 
 On proud Chateau-Thiery's steeps 
 Let them slumber where they lie, 
 
 'Neath the cold, bleak, Russian snows 
 And the blue Italian sky. 
 
 They have given their best wealth. 
 
 Their brave lives went nobly out 
 
 Where the shining angels are 
 
 'Alid the battle's noisy shout. 
 Let them slumber neath the flowers 
 
 Of the land they fought to save. 
 Let our glorious starry flag, 
 
 And the proud tri-colors wave. 
 In the land of Lafayette 
 
 They have perished, but their name 
 Through the ages bright shall shine 
 
 On the gilded heights of fame. 
 
 Gray haired mothers bent and old 
 
 Stand no longer at the gate 
 Waiting for their hero dead, 
 
 97 
 
Our Fallen Heroes 
 
 For they know their awful fate. 
 Sweet hearts in their tears have ceased 
 
 Watching for their warrior bold. 
 Wives and children know too well 
 
 How he lies so still and cold. 
 Let them slumber neath the chill 
 
 Of the Winter's sleet and snows, 
 Where the wooden crosses smile 
 
 Neath the fragrance of the rose. 
 Why remove their peaceful dust 
 
 From the vine clad slopes of France .f" 
 Let them slumber where they fell 
 
 As they stopped the foes advance. 
 
 98 
 
AMERICA FIRST 
 
 'Tis America first, let her glory be sung. 
 No matter what land from whose breasts you 
 
 have sprung, 
 No matter what banner your hands have once 
 
 raised, 
 Our starry flag now is the one to be praised. 
 No matter what land from whose portals you've 
 
 hailed, 
 No matter what flag neath whose folds you have 
 
 sailed, 
 When our star spangled Hag on your vision 
 
 has burst, 
 With a fearless heart stand for America first. 
 
 Ye men from the old world who fervently cling 
 To the nation you left, where they bow to a 
 
 king. 
 Oh foreigner why, when we're forced into war, 
 Do you side with your home land and deeply 
 
 abhor 
 Our flag with its freedom? Why offer to fight 
 
 99 
 
America First 
 
 For the foe, when you know that our nation 
 
 is right? 
 You've stood 'neath its banner, you've hoarded 
 
 up gold, 
 You've married its women, and now we behold, 
 When you're asked to go fight for our fire sides, 
 
 instead 
 You side with the land from whose kings you 
 
 have fled. 
 It's time now to change when it comes to the 
 
 worst. 
 Let this be your motto, America first. 
 
 If in peace time its good, as you aliens all do. 
 To sing songs of praise for the red, white and 
 
 blue. 
 It's as good then in war to step forward and say 
 Your' re ready to die for our country today. 
 If you fail, you should face with their rifles all 
 
 drawn 
 A firing squad prompt at the breaking of dawn., 
 
 loo 
 
America First 
 
 Or be shipped again in a traitors black shame 
 To that Fatherland proud from whose borders 
 
 you came 
 To that land in whose grandeur you seem so 
 
 well versed 
 We Yankees all stand for America first. 
 
 lOI 
 
MISSOURI 
 
 In the Mississippi valley, 
 
 Like a jewel rare she stands, 
 As her countless silvery rivers 
 
 Roll across her golden sands, 
 And her fragrant roses blossom, 
 
 As they join in glad refrain 
 With the pines and firs and hemlocks 
 
 On the snow clad hills of Maine. 
 
 The wild Atlantic billows 
 
 Dash a tribute to her name. 
 And the calm Pacific breakers 
 
 Beat in joyous glad acclaim. 
 While her sister states in tribute 
 
 Lay their garlands at her feet, 
 As Missouri spreads in grandeur 
 
 With her empire broad and sweet. 
 
 Her sister states entwine her 
 In a loving fond embrace. 
 
 Mighty Europe throws caresses 
 At Missouri's smiling face, 
 
 102 
 
Missouri 
 
 And the nations of the "Old World" 
 Far across the crystal seas 
 
 Love to see her star lit banner, 
 As it floats upon the breeze. 
 
 On the North is grand old Iowa 
 
 On the West lies Kansas great, 
 As her golden store of harvest 
 
 Spreads across that prairie state, 
 And old Arkansas lies smiling 
 
 To the southward far away, 
 While Kentucky's blue grass pastures 
 
 Join her robes of brown and gray. 
 
 And old Illinois looks Westward, 
 
 As her prairies smile in glee. 
 On the East the Mississippi 
 
 Courses onward to the sea. 
 Old Missouri, proud-majestic. 
 
 Stretches grandly far aw<.y, 
 Many million brave hearts linger 
 
 Neath her proud gigantic sway. 
 103 
 
Missouri 
 
 Her broad expanse is greater 
 
 Than old England — She that slew, 
 All the hosts of proud Napoleon 
 
 On the field of Waterloo. 
 Grand she vies the German Empire 
 
 Whose vast armies as they beat 
 To the sound of War's shrill music 
 
 Shake all Europe 'neath their feet. 
 
 O'er her plains, ten thousand streamlets 
 
 From the Rockies clad in snow, 
 In their green banks softly murmur, 
 
 As they onward gently flow, 
 Silvery rivaulets softly whisper 
 
 And her shady woodland rings. 
 With the clear and liquid laughter 
 
 Of her myriad crystal springs. 
 
 Mighty forests cool and shady, 
 
 Gray oaks gnarled in countless forms 
 With their mossy boughs like sentinels grim 
 
 104 
 
Missouri 
 
 Defy the wrath of storms. 
 Broad expanse of prairies endless, 
 
 Wrapt in blue grass rich and sweet, 
 Smiling hills and smoky valleys 
 
 Richly robed in golden wheat. 
 
 Corn fields stretch to the horizon's brim, 
 
 With silvery silken threads, 
 Where smiling skies bend kindly down 
 
 To kiss the tasseled heads. 
 Blue grass — gorgeous bridal costume 
 
 Of the smiling blushing spring. 
 Faded robes of dying autumn 
 
 Where the feathered minstrels sing. 
 Verdant clover blossoms fragrant, 
 
 W^inter's snowy mantle cold, 
 And the emerald hues of Summer 
 
 With her fields of blue and gold. 
 
 Countless rosy, tinted sunsets 
 Kiss her purple, Ozark Hills. 
 
 lo: 
 
Missouri 
 
 Far across her verdant valleys 
 
 Gush the music of her rills. 
 In her orchards reddened apples, 
 
 Grace old autumn's mellow dream, 
 While her blushing peaches ripen, 
 
 Streaked with pink and yellow cream. 
 
 Alighty herds in blue grass pastures 
 
 Shake their shining sides and graze 
 While the dim blue landscape glimmers 
 
 In the Indian Summer's haze 
 And the swarm of noisy blackbirds 
 
 To the southland gladly flew 
 While the flocks drank from the grass blades 
 
 Of the drops of jewel dew. 
 
 Far across her amber hill tops, 
 
 Autumn's purple clusters shine. 
 In her cool and shady wood lands. 
 
 Summer's fragrant roses twine. 
 Proud the towering snowclad Rockies 
 
 1 06 
 
Missouri 
 
 Smile in silent lofty glee, 
 As across her jeweled bosom, 
 Rush her rivaulets to the sea. 
 
 Neath her richest soil are minerals 
 
 Under hill and silent glen. 
 Enough of coal to warm the hearths 
 
 Of all the sons of men. 
 
 Cities, countless, vast, and mighty 
 
 Rise in grandeur proud and vain, 
 As they dot her fertile surface 
 
 Over hill and dale and plain. 
 Chillicothe, Springfield, Macon, 
 
 St. Joe, Carthage in their pride, 
 Joplin, St. Charles, Independence, 
 
 Rise upon her priairies wide. 
 Kansas City that bright star 
 
 Glows like a diamond in her crown, 
 On the East proud old St. Louis 
 
 Wears her gloomy classic frown. 
 
 107 
 
Missouri 
 
 Unseen spirits of the air 
 
 Sweep through her woodland bowers, 
 Bearing on their perfumed lips, 
 
 The scent of countless flowers 
 As over all skies painted bright 
 
 With magic's wondrous hue. 
 With ever changing colors green. 
 
 And shades of softest blue. 
 While on the silvery tinted clouds. 
 
 That gild the Western fold, 
 The flood of yellow sunlight falls 
 
 Like waves of broidered gold. 
 
 Many of her men have placed 
 
 The splender of their name 
 To glitter through the ages, 
 
 In the marble hall of fame. 
 Eugene Field, the poet 
 
 Wore the author's classic robe. 
 And flung the brilliant splendor 
 
 Of his name around the globe. 
 
 1 08 
 
Ml 
 
 And Mark Twain's worldly wisdom 
 Filled with humor's smiles and chaff, 
 
 Quickly wreathed man's face, in gladness 
 As he made the whole world laugh. 
 
 Thomas Benton's brilliant genius, 
 
 Through the silent flight of years. 
 With his statesmanship filled Senates 
 
 With appaluse and wildest cheers. 
 While among her greatest leaders 
 
 Who have made a shining mark. 
 She can't afford a moment 
 
 To forget to name Champ Clark, 
 As the centuries pass in silence 
 
 To that cold, mysterious biourne 
 From out whose stifling darkness 
 
 They shall never more return. 
 
 And General John J. Pershing's mighty war 
 like genius freed 
 The world of kings and Kaisers 
 
 109 
 
Missouri 
 
 He the hero from Laclede. 
 And the stars and stripes shine brighter 
 
 Since that grand, heroic day 
 When at Chateau Thiery, Yankees 
 
 Broke the lines of German gray. 
 
 Proud history loves to tell the tale, 
 
 Of how her dauntless braves, 
 Marched forth upon the battlefield 
 
 To rest in unmarked graves, 
 With a patriotism unsurpassed 
 
 That never knew to yield 
 A bravery with bright laurels 
 
 Won on many a crimson field. 
 Gray marble loves to tell the tale, 
 
 And storied urn and bust. 
 Will praise their deeds. 
 
 When monuments have crumbled back to 
 dust 
 And Orators with tongues of fire 
 
 Relate in heated breath. 
 
 no 
 
Missouri 
 
 How old Missouri's sons went forth 
 To Victory or Death. 
 
 And poets sing in deathless rhyme, 
 
 Of her boys in blue and gray, 
 Who neath the fragrant 
 
 Roses sleep unto the perfect Day. 
 Fond mother's prayers and dear caress, 
 
 And Sweetheart's bitter tears 
 Can never wake those gallant sons 
 
 Who sleep away the years. 
 
 And high our starry flag still floats, 
 
 Where cool the breezes beat 
 Across the nation of the free. 
 
 That never knew defeat. 
 In such a land, 
 
 Beneath such skies, 
 Where proud our banners wave, 
 
 Missouri's sons could not be less 
 Than bravest of the brave. 
 
 Ill 
 
THE GREAT ADVENTURE 
 
 We must make the great adventure 
 
 Through Death's portals one and all, 
 Though perchance with great reluctance 
 
 We shall answer to the call. 
 And our earthly tasks shall languish 
 
 As our silent silvery bark 
 Braves the angry storm tossed billows 
 
 Though the awful star-less dark. 
 
 No avoidance of the journey 
 
 Lies within our feeble grasp, 
 Though we cling to what is mundane, 
 
 And the last straw we will clasp. 
 'Tis the way man kind must travel. 
 
 'Tis the race that all must run. 
 'Tis our course to travel westward 
 
 Toward the setting of the sun. 
 
 There's no way of turning backward 
 From the trip when once we start 
 
 Though great fear may fill our spirit, 
 And an iciness of heart 
 
 112 
 
The Great Adventure 
 
 Makes us shrink with terror backward, 
 
 Still our bark must travel on 
 Till the patient stars shine brightly 
 
 Through the curtains of the dawn. 
 
 If we all must make the journey, 
 
 It is wisdom to prepare, 
 Ere too late, to travel westward 
 
 To those islands bright and fair. 
 So to live this brief existence. 
 
 That when last we hear the call 
 Of the captain we can journey 
 
 With contentment toward the pall. 
 
 So to live that when the angels 
 
 In the crystal mansions sing, 
 We can answer to the summons 
 
 Of our high and heavenly king 
 With a cheerfulness of spirit 
 
 When at last we've passed out West 
 In the gold embroidered twilight 
 
 When our soul has gone to rest. 
 
 113 
 
BACK TO THE FARM 
 
 I'm going to leave the city 
 
 And go back again to the farm, 
 Go back to the bright green country 
 
 Where the wild bees fly and swarm, 
 Where the dew drops sparkle like diamonds 
 
 On the blades of the emerald grass 
 And the clover blooms waft their fragrance 
 
 To the balmy breezes that pass. 
 I am going again to the country 
 
 Where the yellow dandelions nod. 
 Where the blue birds warble their music 
 
 And the wild flowers spring from the sod. 
 Where the mocking bird chants her solo 
 
 From the top of an apple bough 
 And the robins hop in the furrow 
 
 That is made by the farmer's plow 
 Where the blue bells smile in their fragrance 
 
 Neath the glittering drops of the rain 
 And a lonely bob white whistles 
 
 From the billows of golden grain. 
 Where the Whippoorwills sing in the star light 
 
 114 
 
Back to the Farm 
 
 Mid the even tide's shadows pale, 
 Where the moon beams fall so mellow 
 
 In silence o'ei hill and dale. 
 I'm going again to the country 
 
 For I'm tired of life in town. 
 The lure of the smoky city 
 
 Has for me but a classic frown, 
 I'm weary of marble driveways, 
 
 Of the factory's noisy din. 
 Of whistles and trains and street cars 
 
 That hide the corruption and sin. 
 I'm going again to the country 
 
 Where the silvry brooklet trills 
 Where the amber tinted sunrise 
 
 Paints brightly the gray old hills. 
 Where the voices of Nature call me 
 
 From every shady retreat 
 Where the roses bloom fresh in their beauty 
 
 And the lilies spring up neath my feet, 
 Where the snowy white orchard blossoms 
 
 Like flakes hide the boughs of green, 
 
 IIS 
 
Back to the Farm 
 
 And the yellow sun kissed splendor 
 
 Falls softly from skies serene, 
 I'm going away from the city 
 
 I'm going again to the farm. 
 To the old home place where the shade trees 
 
 Have still such a subtle charm. 
 I'm going again to the woodlands, 
 
 Back home to the flocks and the herds, 
 Where the forests ring with the music 
 
 Set free by the bevies of birds, 
 Back home mid the joys of the seed time 
 
 Where the children of God should be 
 Mid the golden harvests of Autumn 
 
 The farm is the place for me. 
 
 ii6 
 
THE GREED FOR GOLD 
 
 I do not wish to join in the rush 
 
 For lands and diamonds and silver and gold. 
 This wise old world is going mad 
 
 O'er riches that only a few can hold. 
 Only a choicest few can live 
 
 In marble mansions and vast estate, 
 Tis not the silk gloved millionaire 
 
 With his pile of gold who is truly great. 
 
 'Tis not the broad cloth suits you wear. 
 
 Tis not your diamonds that sparkle bright. 
 'Tis not the private cars that you own 
 
 That give you honor and fame and might. 
 'Tis not how much of this proud world's wealth 
 
 You call your own when you make your will, 
 'Tis not vast farms whose fertile lands 
 
 You force your servants to watch and till, 
 The question is how much have you done 
 
 To make men better where ever you live."* 
 'Tis not how much you take from men 
 
 But rather the question how much you give, 
 
 117 
 
The Greed j or Gold 
 
 'Tis character first that you need of all 
 Then reputation and brains and grit 
 
 If you lack the first you are poor indeed 
 And the world don't care for your able wit. 
 
 'Tis better to live in a poor log hut 
 
 Where woodbines hover and warblers sing 
 
 With the high esteem of your fellow man 
 Than to live in a palace and be a king 
 
 With character tarnished, with wealth untold 
 Of diamonds and castles and silver and gold. 
 
 Ii8 
 
THE THOUSAND YEARS OF PEACE 
 
 That mighty age is dawning 
 
 When the nations of the earth 
 Shall enter on an era 
 
 Of a new and grander birth, 
 When kings shall cease to conquer 
 
 With the scepter and the sword, 
 And the steel clad hosts shall rally 
 
 'Neath the banner of our Lord. 
 The reign of peace is coming 
 
 And will sway the entire world. 
 The flag of truce will flutter 
 
 In its righteousness unfurled. 
 The mighty word of God shall rule 
 
 The heart of empires then, 
 And conflicts shall be settled 
 
 By the genius of the pen. 
 The armed hosts of the nations 
 
 Shall at last lay down their arms 
 And sweetest peace shall cherish 
 
 In mens souls its brightest charms. 
 
 119 
 
The Thousand Years of Peace 
 
 Their rotten fleets shall slumber 
 
 In the bottom of the sea, 
 And man from war's cruel crimson 
 
 Shall be set forever free, 
 Their massive forts shall crumble 
 
 Back again to silent dust, 
 The sabre shall be covered o'er 
 
 With Time's corroding rust. 
 
 Their boomng guns shall silence 
 
 And their marching hosts shall cease 
 And the clash of arms shall vanish 
 
 In the thousand years of peace. 
 The great war captains vanquished 
 
 Still shall live on history's page. 
 Their deeds shall shine resplendent 
 
 In a glorious by gone age. 
 Their names embalmed in memory 
 
 Shall survive the wrecks of time, 
 And their eulogies shall glitter 
 
 In the epitomes of rhyme. 
 
 1 20 
 
The Thousand Years of Peace 
 
 Their swords shall turn to plow shares. 
 
 They will never fight again. 
 Their battle fields forgotten 
 
 Shall be rich in golden grain. 
 The drums shall throb no longer 
 
 Over hill and dale and shore, 
 For the rulers of the nations 
 
 Then shall learn of war no more. 
 The lowly son of Nazareth 
 
 Then shall sway, and not the rod 
 Of haughty kings whose empires rise 
 
 Where marching hosts have trod. 
 The nations of the earth at last 
 
 From war shall have release, 
 And God shall wield the sceptre 
 
 In the thousand years of peace. 
 
 121 
 
VICTORY AND DEFEAT 
 
 Not upon the field of battle 
 
 Are life's greatest victories won 
 Where the silvery trumpet echoes 
 
 And defeated armies run. 
 Not in palaces of marble 
 
 Or in crowded Senate halls 
 Not upon the field of honor 
 
 Where the voice of duty calls. 
 
 Not amid applauding thousands 
 
 Dressed with fame's bright laurels grand 
 While this old world smiles upon us 
 
 As it grasps our out stretched hand, 
 Is our greatest triumphs accomplished 
 
 Not with giddy fickle fame 
 Must we court if we add, luster 
 
 To the glory of our name. 
 
 It is never through the plaudits 
 
 Of the over zealous throng 
 That we know success has crowned us 
 
 With her garlands loud and long 
 
 122 
 
Victory and Defeat 
 
 But within our own breasts struggling 
 
 Is the spirit which must say, 
 Whether we have gained the victory, 
 
 Or at last have lost the day. 
 
 123 
 
THE DEATH OF ROOSEVELT 
 
 Dead! is it possible, he the rough rider 
 
 Idol of millions and lover of men? 
 Hero, adventurer, hunter, and cow boy. 
 
 Orator, statesman, and knight of the pen? 
 How we shall miss his fine widsom and courage, 
 
 Friend of the poor man and champion of all. 
 Who shall now walk in the path he has trodden? 
 
 Who shall now lead in his stead since his fall? 
 Why must he die in the prime of his man hood 
 
 Worshipped by friends and admired by his 
 foes ? 
 He who had wrought till his fame rivalled 
 
 Lincoln's 
 
 Why must he lie 'neath the Winter's cold 
 snows ? 
 Why did the death angel touch his fair banner 
 
 Gathering him home to the heavenly fold? 
 There as he stood in salute to our banner 
 
 Quickly his own service star turned to gold. 
 Dead though in body his spirit immortal 
 
 Leads struggling, fighting for all that is best, 
 
 124 
 
The Death of Roosevelt 
 
 Guiding the whole world to destinies grander. 
 Mankind now mourns that his soul has gone 
 West. 
 Why take the great and leave living the 
 humble? 
 Few such as he have been born in this world. 
 Were it not better if he could be living 
 
 Rather than have his old battle flags furled? 
 He is now sleeping to never awaken 
 
 Here where both Time and Eternity blend, 
 Gone to his rest, but his mighty soul brightens 
 The long, long trail that winds on without 
 end. 
 
 125 
 
THE HIGHER LIFE 
 
 Time was when all the trees seemed dead. 
 'The leaves neath Winters snows were spread. 
 The brown grass in deep slumber lay. 
 The fragrant flowers were hid away. 
 The winter clouds hung gray and low. 
 The cold frost snapped. We felt winds blow. 
 It seemed that spring would never come. 
 The birds were gone the streams were dumb. 
 Death had his way. Old Mother Earth 
 Had lost her joy and smiles and mirth. 
 How changed.^ The green is in the trees. 
 The perfumed flowers kiss every breeze. 
 The buds are bursting, while the streams 
 Reflect the gold of morns first beams. 
 The verdant earth and calm blue skies 
 Reflect the joy of Paradise. 
 
 What stronger proof would erring man 
 Desire that he shall live again? 
 Destroy, ye doubter, Gods own word. 
 And turn to leaf, and flower, and bird 
 
 126 
 
The Higher Life 
 
 Where Nature far o'er hill and plain 
 From death makes all things rise again. 
 Through resurrections vast, profound, 
 And miracles, from 'neath the ground 
 And winter's gloom, the fair flowers spring 
 While all creation's angels sing. 
 
 Shall man superior to it all 
 
 Dream on then in the marble pall.'' 
 
 Shall he with intellect, and soul 
 
 Resolve to dust as ages roll. 
 
 When plant life blooms from death each year 
 
 Shall man not triumph o'er the bier.'' 
 
 His spirit like the flowerets gay 
 
 Shall have a Resurrection day. 
 
 127