PS 3509 
 
 1913 
 Icopy ^ 
 
 oems 
 
 i^- 
 
 For 
 
 Ae Ci 
 
 iPeopio 
 
 BY 
 
) 
 
Copyright 1913. 
 
 By 
 Harvey M« Estes 
 
For 
 
 By 
 
 J J 
 
 J J 3 
 

 As is &tX forth in the title, this little book will 
 no doubt be read with pleasure by many of the 
 common people. By the literary critic it wil be con- 
 sidered, perhaps, more of a promise than a perform- 
 ance. That this is true the author admits. There are 
 a good many things to be learned about poetry and 
 since the author wrote his first poem in 1907, he has 
 been able to see many of his shortcomings. However, 
 there are a number of people who always read the 
 poems with interest and very often clip them for 
 the scrap-book. To comply with the request that the 
 best be published in book form, we are placing 
 "Poems for the Common People" before the public. 
 
 We trust that the indulgent reader will remem- 
 ber that these selections were writen by a country 
 boy, who has had few educational advantages, and 
 when criticisms are to be offered, let them he made 
 known to him for his improvement. To know that 
 his little volume has done some good in the world; 
 that it has brought a bit of sunshine into some life; 
 that it has inspired greater faith in God and that 
 some soul by reading it has been inspired to greater 
 and nobler things, will be a source of gladness and 
 maj'' encourage the author to spend an hour or so 
 occasionally courting the Muses, 
 
 HARVEY M. ESTES, 
 Georgetown, Ky. 
 
 i^. 
 
 By Tra»sf#r '' ^ 
 
HARVEY M. ESTES 
 
P O E M S FOR THE CO M. M O N PEOPLE 
 
 Go little book to the office and liome 
 Thy message leave with meii; 
 
 And when these lips have ceased to speak. 
 Through thee I'll speak again. 
 
 Two of the ideals of my life 
 
 Are to be a great poet and have a good wife. 
 
 ♦♦♦ 
 
 Playful, joyful, cheerful lays, 
 
 Written in my boyhood days; 
 
 Sent to those w^ho sympathize, 
 
 With a common country boy, 
 
 Who deems it now his greatest joy, 
 To begin a hope to realize. 
 
P O E i\i S FOR THE CO M M ON PEOPLE 
 
 PLOVv'ING TIME. 
 
 O bring me out the turning plow 
 And make the mould-board shine, 
 
 And get the plow gear ready too; 
 For now its plov/ing time. 
 
 Give me, too, the faithful horse 
 
 That walks the furrows well; 
 That knows the plowman's "Gee" and "Haw" 
 
 A horse I would not sell. 
 
 Many a day I've watched the soil 
 
 Turn before the plow; 
 Many a rock and root I've struck — 
 
 This job — I know just how. 
 
 The budding trees, the growing grass 
 
 I oft looked up to see. 
 As round and round the field we went, 
 
 This faithful team and me. 
 
 The preparation of the soil — 
 
 A task that pleasure brought; 
 For behind the turning plow 
 
 I labored in noble thought. 
 
 The city life Fve tasted since, 
 With all its many beauties; 
 
 _2— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 It takes away the quiet toil. 
 It gives perplexing duties. 
 
 Though now I live the life I planned 
 
 In happy plow-boy days, 
 And meet the problems of a man 
 
 Who seeks mankind to raise, 
 
 I often wish for just a day ■ ' 
 
 In which to turn the sod; 
 To walk behind the turning plow 
 
 And think the thoughts of God. •- 
 
 DOWN IN THE 'BACKER PATCH. ' 
 
 I don't know the reasons, 
 But in rainy seasons 
 It gave me joy 
 When I was a boy, 
 
 To work in the 'backer patch. 
 All you must know 
 Is just get your row. 
 
 With a man to drop, " ] 
 
 Then you must not stop 
 
 Down in the 'backer patch. 
 
 When the ground is wet, 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 The plants are set. 
 
 With a great deal of speed 
 
 But very little heed 
 
 Down in the 'backer patch. 
 For the boys you know 
 All wish to show 
 How fast they can set. 
 When the ground Is wet^ 
 
 Down in the 'backer patch. 
 
 A\Tien the 'backer's a growing, 
 The plowing and hoeing 
 Give plenty to do; 
 But there's nothing to chew 
 
 Down in the 'backer patch. 
 This fact I must tell. 
 If my task is done welli 
 When the 'backer worms come, 
 There's working some 
 
 Down In the 'backer patch. 
 
 To catch a worm 
 And watch him squirm 
 And spit his juice, 
 Before he's let loose 
 
 Is fun in the 'backer patch. 
 I'll leave it with you 
 To judge if it's true, 
 But I've heard it said 
 __4_- 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 They'd bite off the head 
 
 Of a worm in the 'backer patch. 
 
 There's many a lad, 
 Who experience has had, 
 In hoeing and chopping 
 In suckering and topping 
 
 Down in the 'backer patch. 
 Men continue to chew 
 And the 'backer worm too; 
 So we fodder the man 
 And kill if we can 
 
 The worm in the 'backer patch. 
 
 It's needless to say 
 We welcome the day, 
 When the cutting is done 
 And one by one 
 
 The sticks leave the 'backer patch. 
 We say good-bye, 
 For the 'backer will dry, 
 The M-orm will die 
 And the farmer will sigh 
 
 For joy over the 'backer patch. 
 
P OEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 IN THE CORNFIELDS OF KENTUCKY. 
 
 The following song is one of our most valued 
 selections. Perhaps the reader will appreciate this 
 fact better when I tell him about my experience in 
 writing it. Turning to an entry in my diary of 
 February 28th, 1912, I read with pleasure the account 
 lis it is given there: While on my way from the 
 chapei building to the academy, in company with 
 Mr. O. J. Steger, the words, "In the Cornfields of 
 Kentucky," came to me with such sweetness that 
 all school work and lessons left my mind. I thought 
 of the hundreds of Kentucky boys, Avho belong to 
 The Boys' Corn Clubs, of the farmers and how they 
 toil through the summer in the corn fields and my 
 own experience. Then I resolved in my mind that 1 
 would pay a tribute to the Cornfields of Kentucky. 
 I recited one lesson and, because the theme was 
 impressed upon me so forcibly, I "cut" my other 
 classes, left my books at my room, and started out 
 lor a secluded place where I could write without 
 being disturbed. I went out the Frankfort pike to 
 the road that turns down to the old water mill and 
 when I had gone out it about 250 yards I climbed 
 over behind the stone fence, where the sun would 
 shine on me. It was somewhat cool, but I staid 
 thf-re altoat an hour and wrote the song. 
 
POEMS FOR THE C O M iM N P E () P L 10 
 
 In the cornfields of Kentucky, 
 
 In the early days of Spring, 
 I iiave often turned the furrows, 
 
 And I know the joy it brings, 
 
 CHORUS 
 
 In the cornfields of Kentuclvy, 
 
 Where I've toiled for many a day; 
 
 There are spots I'll ne'er forget. 
 
 Dearest friends who labor yet. 
 
 In the the cornfields of Kentucky far away. 
 
 In the cornfields of Kentucky, 
 
 When the summer sun shone bright, 
 
 We would watch the growing cornfields, 
 With a feeling of delight. 
 
 In the cornfields of Kentuckj', 
 
 Fields of rip'ning corn I've seen, 
 With its silks and yellow tassels, 
 
 And its verdant hue of green. 
 
 In the cornfields of Kentucky, 
 
 How I long to be again; 
 With the sturdy busy farmers. 
 
 When the corn crop's gathered in. 
 
 The above song is published in attractive sheet 
 nuisic and sells for 10c per copy. Address orders 
 to Harvey M, Estes, Georgetown, Ky. 
 
P O E AT S FOR THE CO M M O N PEOPLE 
 THE BISCUIT BOARD 
 
 We love to think of noble deeds 
 
 Of victories fought and won; 
 Too often onr eye \Yould look so high 
 
 Till the little things we shun. 
 
 My thoughts go forth in sweetest lays 
 
 That pen and poet afford, 
 To the common thing of which few sing, 
 
 To the plain old biscuit board. 
 
 Three times a day throughout the year 
 On the biscuit board is fought, 
 
 Battles that are the greater by far 
 Than many men have thought. 
 
 For the business man who needs must think 
 
 And they who harder toil, 
 All fac the day in a better way, 
 
 "When soda doesn't biscuit spoil. 
 
 If I fail to notice that the woman, 
 
 A noble part here plays, 
 I'll give my pen to other men 
 
 To write the people's lays. 
 
 "Three cheers for the woman at the 
 biscuit board," 
 
J^ OEMS FOR THE CO :>1 -M O xN P E O P L E 
 
 Let kings and princes say; 
 For the biscuit board as ^-ell as the sword 
 lias iielped to win the day. 
 
 THE RCLLiNG PIN 
 
 Haying read the above poem, our friend, Mr, A. 
 Liisby, thought that it would not be exactly right to 
 pay such high tribute to the biscuit board and forget 
 the rolling pin. So he sends us the foliowiug lines: 
 
 The biscuit board is a treasure dear: 
 
 For here it long has been, 
 But while it's won the victory, 
 
 So has the rolling pin. 
 
 Wirh honor to the biscuit board, 
 
 You most commit a sin 
 To write about the biscuit board 
 
 And slight the rolling pin. 
 
 Now when the battle's to be fought, 
 f And the dough is rolled out thin, 
 
 You'll never find the task complete 
 AYithout the rolling pin. 
 
 So when the dough is kneaded ^vell 
 ~9— 
 
POEMS FOR THE CO M M O N PEOPLE 
 
 And the pie crust rolled out thin, 
 Upon the grand old biscuit board. 
 You'll need the rolling pin. 
 
 It will never do to part them now 
 Together so long they've been. 
 
 What could you do with the biscuit board, 
 Without the rolling pin. 
 
 ♦♦♦ 
 
 OLD GEORGETOWN 
 
 When away from home 
 
 In other climes, \ 
 
 Enjoying life, '\ 
 
 Having happy times, 
 My heart oft yearns 
 
 For a sight of home. 
 Where in childhood days 
 
 I loved to roam. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Old Georgetown, 
 
 My native home. 
 Old Georgetown; 
 
 For thee I long. 
 The far away 
 
 On land or sea, 
 
 —10— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 Old Georgetown 
 
 I think of tliee. 
 
 The schoolhouse yard, 
 
 Where I loved to play, 
 So many games 
 
 With friends each day 
 The loafing place, 
 
 The coasting hill 
 Are spots I love 
 
 And cherish still. 
 
 When for this town, 
 
 With its crooks and turns. 
 My heart with gladness 
 
 Often yearns 
 I think of friends 
 
 I love so well; 
 ' Yes, even more 
 
 Than tongue can tell. 
 
 Fearing lest his lines should not find a place in 
 the columns of a paper, because of his lack of repu- 
 tation, the author sent a few lines to the Sadieville 
 correspondent of the Georgetown News, without 
 making himself known. They seem to have been 
 heartily received as you will notice from the remarks 
 of the correspondent. 
 
 —11— 
 
1' U E M S FOR T if ECO U M ON PEOPLE 
 
 A TRIBUTE TO SADIEVILLE 
 
 Below are a number of verses, which were writ- 
 ten by a. childhood resrdeiit of Sadieville, and which 
 show liow this place is cherished and how i: vri'.l 
 long be remembered by those who started on lire's 
 pathway a.t this point: 
 
 In the northern part of Scott, 
 
 Not far from the county line. 
 Stands the little town of Sadieville, 
 
 With memories dear to this heart of mine. 
 
 For 'tvv-as here that I was born 
 
 And my childhood days were spent, 
 
 Roaming oft with fond companions, 
 Enjoying life to heart's content. 
 
 Right vrell do I remember, 
 
 The schoolhouse on the hill. 
 Where I first pursued my studies 
 
 Preparing my place in life to fill. 
 
 When v.ith other friends, 
 
 Hours of pleasure I would seek, 
 Then we'd take a little stroll 
 
 And go swimming in the creek. 
 
 Words have failed me to express it. 
 
P (3 E .M S FOR THE C O M ]\I O N P E O P L E 
 
 Or else to you I'd teil 
 How my heart goes out in gratitude 
 For that dear old public well. 
 
 Here on many a summer day 
 
 I my thirst would often slake, 
 Then stepping back I'd watch the others, 
 
 As they their turn would take. 
 
 O thou town that stands majestic, 
 
 On Eagle's classic hill, 
 Long may your inhabitants be as noble 
 
 As those that now thy dwellings fill. 
 
 Long may thy sons admire thee, 
 
 Long may thy daughters too. 
 And ever show where e'er they be 
 
 That their love for thee is true. 
 
 (Washington Boostermore,) Georgetown, Ky. 
 
 ♦<♦♦ 
 
 THE ATTACK OF McCLELLAND'S FORT 
 
 McOIelland's Fort stood near the "Big Spring" 
 in Georgetown. In recording the attack of the fort, 
 one of the Kentucky histories gives it thus: "On 
 the 29th of December, (1776) forty or fifty Mingo 
 Indians attacked McClelland's Station, which was 
 
 —13— 
 
P U E iVI S FOR THE C O M IM O N PEOPLE 
 
 defended by twenty men. Their chief, Pluggy, was 
 killed, and after several hours fighting they were 
 driven off; but John McClelland, the founder of the 
 station, was mortally wounded, as was one other 
 man, w'hile two others were badly wounded. The 
 fort was abandoned for a time, the survivors taking 
 refuge at Harrodstown." 
 
 When brave old pioneers. 
 
 Of Kentucky's early days, 
 Made through the canes and forest 
 
 The settler's rugged ways, 
 Then it was 
 
 That the red man found 
 He had an enemy 
 
 To his hunting ground. 
 
 He saw the timber 
 
 Being cleared away 
 And knew the scarceness 
 
 Of his game each day; 
 And often vowed 
 
 He'd try his best 
 Not to let the settler 
 
 Drive him farther West. 
 
 I 
 
 'Twas in December 
 
 That the Mingoes swore 
 No pale-faced hunter 
 
 —14— 
 
POEMS FOR THE CO M M O N PEOPLE 
 
 Should trouble tliem more, 
 And with weapons in hand, 
 
 A war dance they had; 
 For each brave warrior 
 
 Was furiously mad. 
 
 In this same month, 
 
 On the twenty-ninth daj', 
 Forty brave warriors 
 
 Made their way 
 Over hill and valley, 
 
 Across swollen stream 
 Till in the distance 
 
 Could be seen 
 
 The beautiful spring. 
 
 Their camping place, 
 Where often they'd rested 
 
 After the chase. 
 And eaten in peace 
 
 Of the deer and the bear 
 And drank from the fountain 
 
 That gushed forth there. 
 
 But nov/ they saw 
 
 A fort near by 
 On which their foe 
 
 Would surely rely 
 For the protection 
 
 —15— 
 
P O E I\l S FOR THE C' O IM M ON PEOPLE 
 
 Of their life, 
 When in the war's 
 Turmoil and strife. 
 
 A\T[ien chopping wood, 
 
 They spied a man, 
 Led by Pliiggy ' \ 
 
 The war-whoop began; • 
 
 For this daring chief 
 
 Did not fear ' 
 
 And with his men 
 
 He drew so near, i 
 
 That John McClelland, , ' 
 
 Behind the wall 
 Could see the leader 
 
 Men and all. 
 Then turning around 
 
 This man declared 
 That if the fort 
 
 Was ever spared, 
 
 Each man must aim 
 
 In such a way, 
 That not a bullet 
 
 Be lost that day 
 Then said he, 
 
 "You most remember 
 That ever since 
 
 —16— 
 
j^ O E M S FOR THE C O M M O N I' E O P L E 
 
 The last of September. 
 
 Our ammunition 
 
 Has been so low 
 That seven of our number 
 
 Were compelled to go. 
 At the risiv 
 
 Of their lives, 
 To secure us powder 
 
 And other supplies. 
 
 Take courage my friends 
 
 And comrades dear, 
 Though we be few, 
 
 We need not fear; 
 For the labors 
 
 Were not amiss 
 Which made a fort 
 
 So srrong as this. 
 
 And if twenty men, 
 
 With bravery fight, 
 Those savage Indians 
 
 Will be put to flight 
 And many of their bodies 
 
 Will surely lie, 
 L'pon the cold ground 
 
 To bleed and die." 
 
 _17._ 
 
V O E .Ai S FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 .Meanwhile the women and children, 
 
 In fear began to cry; 
 For said they, with sobs, 
 
 "This day we shall surely die." 
 But the brave Robert Todd, 
 
 Whose heart with love was tilled. 
 Showed them a safer place 
 
 And bade them be still. 
 
 Scarcely had this hero 
 
 Uttered his last word, 
 Before the deadly crack 
 
 Of rifles were plainly heard, 
 And back and forth the bullets 
 
 Went flying through the air. 
 Each sent by a skillful marksman, 
 
 Whose aim ^^as made with care. 
 
 Two hours or more had passed 
 
 And the firing soon must cease; 
 For the men behind the fort 
 
 Had ended the redman's peace 
 They had killed the noted Mingo, 
 
 Pluggy, the Indian chief, 
 And though scarce of powder 
 
 They felt a sure relief. 
 
 Their hearts were greatly saddened, 
 They met with great surprise, 
 —18— 
 
1^ O E .\J S FOR THE C O iNI i\l U N P E () P L E 
 
 ^^'hen turning from the post of duty, 
 This fact now faced their eyes; 
 
 Their leader, John McClelland, 
 Lay gasping for his breath 
 
 And near him were two others, 
 Wounded unto death. 
 
 That evening- at the sunset 
 
 A warrior's grave was made 
 And in the earth so cold 
 
 The Indian chief was laid; 
 But now 'tis scarcely known 
 
 'Tis an almost forgotten thing 
 That John McClelland's foe, 
 
 Lies hurried near the spring; 
 
 That the town in which we live 
 
 Had such courageous men, 
 To fight its greatest foes 
 
 And subdue them in the end. 
 How can we forget 
 
 Our city hero's nam.e, 
 \Vho fought and died for Georgetown, 
 
 And deserves a hero's fame? 
 
 How can we neglect, 
 
 Though busy every day, 
 To stop for just a moment 
 
 Some kind respect to pay; 
 
 —19— 
 
i U K M S F O R T HE CO iVi M O N P E O P L E 
 
 To those whose lot was cast 
 
 Where we are pleased to dwell; 
 
 To those, who came before us, 
 
 And played their part so well? 
 
 Well might every schoolboy 
 
 Know this story true, 
 And point out the grave of Pluggy 
 
 As others were won't to do; 
 For tew Kentucky towns, 
 
 Besides this beautiful one, 
 ("an tell of their brave heroes 
 
 And the daring deeds they've done. 
 
 THE KENTUCKY OF GRANDFATHER'S DAY. 
 
 AVhen I look at the bluegrass pastures 
 
 And the farms in their hue of green, 
 When I view the world famed horses 
 
 As good as eye hath seen, 
 I think of the past that has gone, 
 
 Yet not so far away, 
 1 think of the Past of Kentucky, 
 
 The Kentucky of grandfather's day. 
 
 t^ 
 
 1 think of the pioneer days, 
 
 With the story of the savage wild 
 
POEMS FOR THE CO M M O N PEOPLE 
 
 How he fought the early settlers, 
 When grandfather was a child; 
 
 Yes, I think of the hardships suffered 
 Which we shall ne'er repay, 
 
 To the pioneers of Kentucky, 
 
 The Kentucky of grandfather's day. 
 
 The story is sad but true. 
 
 Of the struggles that the "sixties" brought, 
 When arrayed against each other, 
 
 The sons of Kentucky fought; 
 But thanks for the common brotherhood, 
 
 Which we now have today, 
 'Tis a tribute to Kentucky, 
 
 The Kentucky of grandfather's day. 
 
 May we all learn to love her 
 
 And prize our heritage more. 
 The heritage that was left us 
 
 By our grandsires gone before, 
 And welcome oft the privilege, 
 
 Some kind respects to pay 
 To the dear old state of Kentucky, 
 
 The Kentucky of grandfather's day. 
 
 ♦♦♦ 
 
 -21— 
 
i^ O E M S FOR THE C O M M O N PEG P L E 
 
 A BACKWARD GLANCE 
 
 Almost forgotten are the faces 
 
 That at school I once beheld; 
 But sweeter still the memories 
 
 Of those friends I love so well. 
 O that I had the pleasure 
 
 Of meeting just once more 
 The schoolmates with whom I've often played 
 
 In those happy days of yore 
 
 Haw many boon companions, 
 
 Whose hopes at school were high, 
 Have we watched upon life's pathway 
 
 That now in the graveyard lie? 
 How many went to search 
 
 For fame in other climes, 
 And have by departing added 
 
 Sadness to those happy times? 
 
 How many boon companions. 
 
 In our childhood's happy land, 
 Have we had the pleasure 
 
 Of gripping by the hand, 
 And our stories then relating, 
 
 While we looked them in the eye, 
 Of sweethearts, friends and teachers, 
 
 111 the school days now gone by? 
 
 -22- 
 
P OEMS FOR THE CO M M ON P E O P L E 
 
 We may learn of the schooUiouse changes 
 
 As the years come and go, 
 But when we view its inmates 
 
 Not one face we chance to know. 
 If our hearts are kind and tender, 
 
 We cannot keep from shedding tears 
 When we see how great the changes 
 
 Brought about by passing years. 
 
 Such is often our experience 
 
 In this common school of life. 
 Oft rejoicing in its pleasures, 
 
 Oft brought down by toil and strife 
 Yet we have a M'aster Teacher, 
 
 Who through life is always near, 
 And when our lessons are hard to master. 
 Speaks the needed word of cheer. 
 *X**> 
 WISER AND STRONGER 
 All honor to the boys and girls 
 Throughout this land of ours, 
 Who go to school from, day to day 
 
 And study till midnight hours 
 The boys and girls whose aims are high, 
 
 Who strive mankind to bless. 
 Who strive to put out sin and ignorance 
 And bring in righteousness. 
 
 Among this throng of splendid youth 
 —23— 
 
POEMS FOR THE CO M MON PEOPLE 
 
 From country, town and city, 
 I see a group with faces bright 
 
 That's oft looked on with pity. 
 They too have heard the upward call 
 
 And see a brighter day, 
 They are the students who go to college 
 
 And work to pay their way. 
 
 'Tis no disgrace to be poor, 
 
 Though some for the laborer sigh 
 Disgrace, indeed, it is to say, 
 
 "It's not worth while to try." 
 To those who mount such difficulties, 
 
 I would a tribute pay, .. 
 
 To the students who go to college ; 
 
 And work to pay their way. 
 
 Farmer, merchant, whoever you are, 
 
 When such a one you meet, 
 Making his way with expenses high 
 
 Yet earning bread and meat; 
 Employment, encouragement a band-shake pcriuiys 
 
 A word that you might say 
 Will brighten the path of a college student, 
 
 Who works to pay his way. 
 
 Cheer up! Cheer up! my college friends 
 
 Your future is surely bright; 
 For openings are many for efficient men, 
 —24— 
 
P O E M S FOR THE C O IM INi O N P E O IM. E 
 
 Wlio also love the riglit. 
 Ana the day to you v.'ill surely come, 
 
 AVlieii you'll rejoice to say, 
 *'i'm glad, indeed, that I went to college. 
 
 Though I worlved to pay my way." 
 
 A COLLEGE STUDENT'S MUSINGS 
 
 'T.vas on the campus among the trees, 
 
 I seated myself to rest in ease; 
 
 A glorious place was this to me, 
 
 Vv'here from all my studies ray mind felt free. 
 
 But ah! who is there that cannot predict the fate 
 Of a college student in this sad state? 
 \S'hiie here in ease I quietly lay, 
 1 heard a voice across the v^ay. 
 
 It came as is knov»'u by one and all, 
 From a place called Rucker Hall, 
 The thoughts of home came to my mind, 
 And best of all a friend of mine, 
 
 With whom I'd spent many happy hours 
 In the fond enjoyments, which were ours. 
 How fresh the memories of the evening drive, 
 ' When all of nature seemed alive; 
 
 —25— 
 
P O E M S FOR T ii E C O M x\i O N PEG 1^ L E 
 
 Vvlien on the bush sat the cardinal red 
 Among the trees, which once seemed dead; 
 And even the voice of the old blue jay, 
 Added to the happiness of that day, 
 
 While beautiful flov,-ers their fragrance lent 
 As past the gardens we quietly went; 
 Nor did the blossoms of the locust tree 
 Refuse to show themselves to me. 
 
 But above the scenery of mother earth, 
 I prized much higher the joy and mirth 
 Of moments spent in the evening ride. 
 While sitting by my sweetheart's side. 
 
 Before my musings were quite o'er. 
 They had not the brightness as before: 
 For the thought of having to part, 
 At this moment nearly broke my heart. 
 
 I rose to my feet and with an angry look 
 Began to regret the step I took, 
 In coming to college where work is done; 
 But not so much of frolic and fun. 
 
 I said hard things of the college rules, 
 1 called the faculty a set of fools. 
 The supper bell rang and luckily enough 
 Before my speech became to rough. 
 
i^ O E i\l S FOR T HE CO U M ON F E O P L E 
 
 Two hours hence and all I forgot; 
 For at Riicker Hall I liad cast my lot, 
 Witli other boys of a similar fate, 
 PJut whose stor}' I will not relate. 
 
 Suffice to say, a cure was wrought 
 
 Eeyond anything that I had thought. 
 
 And on the morrow, when passing by, 
 
 A loving smile and a glance of the eye j 
 
 Goes to prove the fact is true 
 
 That instead of one girl I now had two. 
 
 THE FACULTY 
 
 H is for Baxter, so mighty and grand; 
 
 A is for A-rmstrong, the English man. 
 
 T) stands for Daw^es, a Baptist preacher, 
 
 And R for Ryland, the Physics teacher, 
 
 Professors Fogle and Ragland, with theii- foreign 
 
 dialect. 
 In this line of instructors come next; 
 While Professor Rhoton, in his field hath 
 All the secrets of Astronomy and Math. 
 Three H's for Henry, Hinton and Hill 
 Ends the list and fills the bill. 
 
 -27- 
 
F O E M S FOR THE COW M O N P K O P L E 
 THE BELLE OF THE BLUE 
 
 At Georgetown College, 
 
 Where the student strives 
 To enrich the world, 
 
 Vv'lth better lives, 
 He gets new courage 
 
 His work to do 
 By the yearly appearance 
 
 Of the Belle of the Blue, 
 
 When the Alumni hears 
 
 That his Alma Mater, 
 Though achieving fame 
 
 Aspires to something greater, ■ 
 
 He longs to look 
 
 The pages through 
 And find his picture 
 
 In the Belle of the Blue. 
 
 How often the student, 
 
 Who is less advanced, 
 Thinks of the interests 
 
 That will be enhanced 
 By any work 
 
 That he may do, 
 When he gets on the staff 
 
 Of the Belle of the Blue. 
 
 -28— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 Tlie Belle of the Blue 
 
 Will always be 
 A welcome guest 
 
 And friend to me; 
 A souvenir of interest 
 
 My whole life through, 
 Will be this attractive 
 
 Belle of the Blue. 
 
 ♦♦♦ 
 
 The lines below were suggested by Pearl, my sis- 
 ter-in-law, while she was cooking supper. She look- 
 ed at the coffee and remarked that it was as black 
 as lye. 
 
 I believe, 
 
 If I should try, 
 I could make my coffee 
 As black as lye. 
 
 You must agree 
 
 That I'm not wrong; 
 If coffee is black. 
 
 It's also strong. 
 
 Good or bad, 
 
 What do I care; 
 For some one else 
 
 Can drink my share. 
 —29— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 Jake Dunn Jr., a colored man, told me, while I 
 was shucking corn in the field with him, that he had 
 shucked corn when the shocks had to he prized op- 
 en with a rail, because they were so badly frozen. 
 In a jovial manner I composed the following and re- 
 cited it to him there in the cornfield. 
 
 You'll have to watch Jake, 
 When there's nothing at stake; 
 For he'll tell some "whacks" 
 That are cracker jacks. 
 
 And try to make 
 A booger-boo 
 Just to see 
 What you will do. 
 
 If I had my way 
 With a man like that, 
 I'd shake him up 
 Like a dog shakes a rat; 
 
 I'd make him halloo 
 And I'd m.ake him squeal, 
 Then turn him loose 
 In this cornfield. 
 
 And make him shuck 
 Till his hands got sore 
 —30— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 And then lie wouldn't tell 
 Such whacks any more. 
 
 ♦><♦♦♦♦ 
 
 OLD BEN AND JACK 
 
 Old Ben and Jack 
 
 Are two good dogs 
 
 That belong to the Estes family. 
 Old Ben hunts birds 
 
 And Jack drives hogs 
 
 All for the Estes family. 
 
 When we hunt the hare, 
 Both dogs are there, 
 To hunt for the Estes family. 
 
 We feed them well 
 
 I'm glad to tell 
 
 To the honor of the Estes family. 
 
 When Fm home again, 
 I hope old Ben 
 
 Will be with the Estes family. 
 As for Jack I'll say, 
 "He'll surely stay 
 
 Till death with the Estes family." 
 
 ♦♦♦ 
 
 —31— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 THE FISHING TRIP 
 
 Who's that digging in the garden, 
 
 With the grubbing hoe and spade? 
 
 It's not time for other planting 
 And the lettuce bed is made. 
 
 6, I see, it's George and Willie, J 
 
 Digging worms for fishing bait, 
 
 Mother I would tarry longer, 
 But to fish I cannot wait. 
 
 City life is very tempting, 
 
 But when to the farm I go, 
 All it's customs I leave behind me 
 
 And my boyish ways I show. 
 
 Now my pole and line are ready 
 And the worm is on the hook; 
 
 If good luck I'd have in fishing 
 At my cork now I must look. 
 
 While I sit with patience waiting. 
 
 To catch a perch, a "craw" or shad, 
 
 My mind goes back o'er all my childhood 
 To the happy days I've had. 
 
 Novv^ my fishing trip is ended; 
 
 Three small perch I've caught today; 
 —32— 
 
^ P O E M S FOR THE C O M !>! O N PEOPLE 
 
 But my childliood I've lived over 
 JusL wliile fishing in this way. 
 
 THE PET BIRD 
 
 The following poem and comment is given just 
 as it was published in the Georgetown News, October 
 22, 1912: 
 
 Among the productions that represent my first 
 efforts at writing poetry are a few verses written 
 for M/ay and Elizabeth Heberling, two little girls who 
 live on South Hamilton. We were neighbors at that 
 time and they often came to see me, bringing flow- 
 ers or other presents, which they bestowed with such 
 cheerfulness and assurance of welcome that sorrow 
 and cares had to take their flight to make room for 
 the joy and gladness that came into my life. 
 
 While I sat on the porch one evening studying 
 my lessons, these little girls came over to see me, 
 but they had not that cheerfulness to which I had 
 become accustomed. It was evident that something 
 had gone wrong. They showed we their pet bird that 
 had died and all was clear to me. The sympathy of 
 m.y ov/n heart went out for them. This I tried to 
 express in the following poem, which I give by spec- 
 ial request: 
 
t- O E Ai S FOR THE C O M INi O N PEOPLE 
 
 'Twas on a pleasant evening, 
 
 Wliile I sat on the porcli and read, 
 
 Tliat two little girls came to me grieving 
 Because tlieir little bird was dead. 
 
 They told me hov,' at evening 
 
 Their little pet had died 
 And I their sorrow seeing 
 
 To give them some comfort tried. 
 
 I told them men and living birds 
 
 Have all to pass away 
 That life wath ail the joy it brings 
 
 Is as fleeting as a day. 
 
 I bade them have cheer 
 
 Since another bird they'd get 
 But 'twas then I saw hovv^ dearly 
 
 They loved their little pet. 
 
 We. who do not sympathize 
 
 With those of younger years, 
 
 Should also realize 
 
 We've had our grief and tears. 
 
 And so to you my little friends, 
 
 I send my vvords of cheer. 
 Because a helping hand I lend 
 
 To those in trouble here. 
 —34— 
 
POEMS FOR THE C O I\I ^^l O N P E O P L E 
 THE FATE OF THE TITANIC 
 
 Our hearts were filled with wonder, 
 
 When we chanced to see, 
 Described in many a paper 
 
 That monster of the sea. 
 Vie read of its great length 
 
 Its height into the air 
 And knew that none other 
 
 Could with it compare. 
 
 Our hearts were filled with eagerness 
 
 To read about the trip 
 Made across the ocean 
 
 By sucTi a mighty ship. 
 But when with little patience 
 
 For news we chanced to wait, 
 How much cur hearts were saddened 
 
 To learn "Titanic's" fate. 
 
 Our hearts are filled with sympathy 
 
 For those to whom it gave 
 Such unexpected grief 
 
 For friends in a watery grave 
 May the wise and loving Pilot, 
 
 Who o'er life has all control 
 Send the Spirit's wireless message 
 
 For the comfort of each soul. 
 
P O E ]M S FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 REMEMBER THE MAINE 
 
 Tills poem was written after tlie raising of the 
 Battlesli -v Maine. 
 
 Come all ye noble patroits 
 
 Of this our own fair land, 
 And let us together reason 
 
 About a matter now in hand. 
 Does it to you seem good, ,| 
 
 Or do you believe like me, 
 That the battleship Maine 
 
 Should not sink beneath the sea? 
 
 I have looked upon the graves 
 
 Of long departed friends 
 And experienced the tender feelings, 
 
 Which such action always lends; 
 But far above these feelings 
 
 And farther on still yet, 
 The things for which they lived and died 
 
 I'll surely ne'er forget. 
 
 Remember the Maine, our battleship; 
 
 I heard the school boy cry; 
 But will he think of it 'neath the sea 
 
 Or see it with the eye. 
 Must we together say, 
 
 "Go forth thou craft of wondrous fame, 
 —36— 
 
P O E M S FOR T n S C^ O iVl M O N PEOPLE 
 
 VV/here no eye shall look thee o'er 
 
 And there perish with thee 
 The names of the crew you bore." 
 
 Come teach me a better way 
 
 To keep my memory clear, 
 If after seeing, I forget the ship 
 
 That now I hold so dear. 
 For once I have the pleasure 
 
 Of seeing with the eye 
 The memories of crew and craft 
 
 Will linger till I die. 
 
 Listen to the message that I bring, 
 
 In words that in my heart doth ring; 
 
 Loving kindness of a young maiden so fair 
 
 Like the kindness of our Lord over there 
 
 Into some soul a message may bring 
 
 And cause them to say with a heart that is true, 
 
 "iNow point me to Jesus who reconciled you." 
 
 Christ is the one who this work hath wrought 
 On this soul that he hath bought; 
 Christ is the one who salvation gives 
 He preserves our lives each day that we live. 
 Remember then what he has done 
 And carry his message to some one 
 
 —37— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 f^Gw in darkness and the power of sin. 
 
 ♦♦♦ 
 FORGETTING. 
 
 When the greatest of earth's teachers, 
 
 Spoke of the sparrow small, 
 He made mention of its value 
 
 To Him who rules over all; 
 And said that our Heavenly Father, 
 
 Whose blessings we all must get, 
 Al\rhen he looked upon His creatures, 
 
 The sparrow would ne'er forget. 
 
 Methinks, when I consider man, 
 
 With all his wondrous powers. 
 Placed above all other creatures 
 
 In this great world of ours, 
 With all his pov/ers to think and reason, 
 
 To smell and hear and see; 
 'Tis hard, so hard to know just why 
 
 Some things should forgotten be. 
 
 How oft a kind and loving mother, 
 
 A father filled with care, 
 Have worked hard for sons and daughters 
 
 To give a blessing rare; 
 Then late in life, when greatest needs 
 —38— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 And problems hard are met 
 Tliey themselves are oft neglected 
 For children oft forget. 
 
 Indeed, it is deplorable 
 
 But what of our heavenly Father's 
 
 To forget a mother's love; 
 
 Shown from His home above? 
 Is not this the saddest fact 
 
 That we in life do face? 
 A soul now trusting in its God 
 
 Then doubting in His grace. 
 
 THE SPRING. 
 
 Again I come to the spring 
 
 That to drink I can scarce get enough, 
 Whose water is so cool and so fresh 
 
 That runs from the edge of the bluff, 
 
 How often on hot summer days. 
 
 When I was only a youth, 
 Have I quenched my thirst at this fountain — 
 
 Then communed with the God of all truth. 
 
 Oh the value of the sweet meditation 
 That I had as I sat by the spring; 
 —39— 
 
P O E M S FOR T HE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 My thoughts turned to God and the future 
 
 Yes, thoughts of what the future would bring 
 
 Yea, my troubles to God I would carry, 
 
 My plans I took to Him too; 
 And there I prayed by the spring: 
 
 "Father show me what I should do." 
 
 The God of all truth has guided 
 
 My erring feet to this da>. 
 And as I come again to the spring, 
 
 With faith in His care I must say: 
 
 "In all thy ways acknowledge God 
 
 And he will be to you, 
 Peace and comfort in this life , 
 
 When nothing else will do." 
 
 I stand upon the burying ground, 
 In which two friends are laid; 
 
 Though time hath made acquaintance short. 
 The best of friends were made. 
 
 The first to hear the call of death 
 
 I as a teacher knew. 
 We worked and studied with each other, 
 
 We walked together too. 
 —40— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 While at the organ, the teacher sat 
 
 One evening after school. 
 He sang and played a favorite hymn 
 
 And enjoyed the air so cool. 
 
 "Jesus lover of my soul, 
 
 iLet me to Thy bosom fly," 
 Were the words that the teacher uttered 
 
 And then took sick to die. 
 
 The other a girl of fifteen years, 
 
 A noble spirit had; 
 Her life was a benediction. 
 
 Her death was very sad. 
 
 Two months or more I company kept, 
 
 With this young girl so true; 
 A nobler type of womanhood, 
 
 I confess, I never knew. 
 
 Now as I leave the burrying ground. 
 In which my friends are laid. 
 
 There's hope to meet them once again; 
 For peace with Christ is made. 
 
 —41- 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 KNOCKING ON THE DOORS 
 
 Behold, I go knocking on the doors. 
 
 It's morals I wish to try; 
 I go calling from door to door 
 
 To see if folks will lie. 
 
 I call at a home where plain folks live, 
 The children come to the door. 
 
 I wish to talk to the head of the house, 
 But I talk to many more. 
 
 I hid them adieu, and again I stop. 
 This time at a home of wealth. 
 
 I wish to speak to the "lady of the house," 
 But the cook says she has no health. 
 
 All the morning I keep knocking, 
 
 And the negroes answer the calls. 
 
 It's surprising to me such a sight to see; 
 The negroes have charge of the halls. 
 
 The answer to queries ahout the "head of the 
 house" 
 
 Are surprising and hard to believe; 
 But I give a few that you may see 
 
 And thus your conscience relieve. 
 
 "She's sick," "she's away," "it's such a bad day 
 —42^ 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 She cannot come to the door,' 
 
 "She's lying down and cannot come," 
 
 And besides these many more. 
 
 The truth's the truth the world around; 
 
 With the lie it's just the same; 
 But some wish to avoid the plainest things 
 
 And call it another name. 
 
 There is an ear that heareth ail, 
 
 To listen it is nigh; 
 So when you say, "tell them I'm away," 
 
 Remember it's a lie. 
 
 ♦♦♦ 
 
 TIME AND SPACE 
 
 There met my eye from the monntgin high 
 
 The scenes of the valley below. 
 'Twas a pleasure to me, such a picture to see 
 
 The lessons that from it grow. 
 
 The sun shone bright and the morning light. 
 
 Made darkness cease to be; 
 But thoughts of fear and hope and cheer. 
 
 All came that day to me. 
 
 The scenes of earth all have their birth, 
 —43— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 With us in babyhood; 
 Like the growing grass our years soon pass 
 And life's not understood. 
 
 The moments fly and for the eye 
 
 Changes oft take place. 
 And these may tell, if we listen well, 
 
 The limits of time and space. 
 
 Time and space, when we run the race. 
 
 Of life upon this earth. 
 Make some rejoice, till it seems their voice 
 
 Is always filled with mirth. 
 
 But others some, when once they come 
 
 To these limits Grod doth place. 
 Complain of their lot, forgetting all they've got, 
 
 Are things of time and space. 
 
 Now time and space we all must face 
 
 And accept their limitations; 
 But soon we'll see what it is to be 
 
 A soul of a new creation. 
 
 ♦♦♦ 
 
 With the coming of the night shades. 
 
 Comes a shadow o'er my soul. 
 Yea, it comes when unexpected, 
 —44— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 When of better things I've told. 
 
 For 'twas only yesterday 
 
 That I vowed, if I could, 
 I'd teil my readers how that all things 
 
 Wiorked together for the good. 
 
 At noon a message I wrote to others, 
 Telling them they ought to see. 
 
 The silver lining of dark clouds, 
 
 But now that message applies to me. 
 
 Lord, let my faith remain unshaken; 
 Let me say, "Thy will be done." 
 Oft this promise I have trusted, 
 Shall I then this instance shun? 
 
 Sadly I confess it's hard 
 
 My heavenly Father's ways to see; 
 "But His eye is on the sparrow 
 
 And I shall not forgotten be." 
 
 ♦♦♦ 
 
 THE BUNCH OF DAISES TWO 
 
 I began this poem while sitting in a coach at 
 Lawrenceburg, Ky., waiting for the train to leave. 
 Looking down, I noticed the two daises that I had 
 
 —45— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 found in a country grave-yard that morning and 
 then, wishing I was in Georgetown, the contents 
 of the poem were thus suggested to me. 
 
 The train was running backward. 
 
 On which I was to ride. 
 To a town in old Kentucky, 
 
 Where my sweetheart did reside; 
 And while looking out the window, 
 
 New scenes now met my view, 
 But for less were they in beauty 
 
 Than the bunch of daises. 
 
 I plucked them in the graveyard. 
 
 Because of beauty rare. 
 And they brought back sweetest memories, 
 
 While I was standing there; 
 Yes thoughts of future days 
 
 Came also then to me. 
 With sorrow, joy and gladness 
 
 And a friend to share with me. 
 
 The daises now are withered 
 
 Their beauty has passed away. 
 But they served a heavenly mission 
 
 On that bright summer day. 
 And to take a lesson from them . 
 
 I hope that all life through, J 
 
 Two souls may scatter sunshine, 
 
 As the bunch of daises, two. 
 —46— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 COURTING IN THE COUNTRY 
 
 He hitched tip his horse 
 To the rubber tire new, 
 
 And went for a drive 
 
 As the other boys do, 
 
 When courting in the country. 
 
 Many roads he drove o'er, 
 With his fancy turn-out; 
 
 Many maidens he saw 
 As he froliced about^ 
 While courting in the country. 
 
 'Tis an awful hard thing 
 A girl to find. 
 
 And still harder to say, i 
 
 "I know she is mine," 
 When courting in the country. 
 
 He found a young maiden 
 Of such beauty* rare. 
 
 That he "cut out" at once 
 All other callers there. 
 Where he courted in the country. 
 
 Now custom demands 
 
 Two calls a week* 
 When courting in the country^ 
 But what did he care. 
 
 If his bride he should meet, 
 —47— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 While courting in tlie country. 
 His calls were made 
 
 With great regularity. 
 And she often shared 
 
 Of his unexcelled charity, 
 
 V/hile he courted in the country. 
 
 "All thing go well, 
 
 I've nothing to fear; 
 That my bride I've won 
 
 Is now very clear, 
 
 Though I'm courting in the country." 
 And all was well 
 
 In his own eyes. 
 Till one Sunday evening 
 
 He met with surprise. 
 
 While courting in the country. 
 
 A handsome young man. 
 
 From a near by town. 
 With a new auto 
 
 Was speeding around, 
 
 Where he courted in the country. 
 The car and the driver 
 
 Caught the maiden's eye, 
 And it's the only reason, 
 
 That he gives why 
 
 He's courting no more in the country. 
 ♦><♦♦> 
 —48— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 Winter speaks of sleeping nature. 
 Spring of life again renewed. 
 
 Summer gives us growth and beauty 
 Autumn leaves us clothes and food. 
 
 So the seasons each a story, 
 
 Bring to all who listen well; 
 But in writing I grow narrow, 
 
 As I to one a story tell. \ 
 
 *Twas in the month of October, 
 
 Five long years and more ago 
 That I first with pen and paper 
 
 And a heart with love aglow 
 
 Set to work to make a rhyme. 
 Though poor, indeed, I wrote some lines 
 
 That to a friend expressed 
 All my heart's fond affections 
 
 For the one to whom addressed, 
 
 As I wrote at that time. 
 Time has left so many changes; 
 
 Poems oft I've written since. 
 Time has made life's outlook differ; 
 
 That persons loves another, hence 
 
 I love you. 
 Time will bring its changes yet; 
 
 We know not what the future holds; 
 Friends may fail us, yes the best; 
 
 But till all this life unfolds 
 
 I'll be true. 
 
 —49— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 On the morning of November 13, 191! I re- 
 ceived a letter from mother and in it she sent a piv- 
 ture of Lillian and Donal. This. I was, indeed, glad to 
 receive. So glad was I that I sat down and expressed 
 my feeling in this little poem. 
 
 A letter much expected came 
 
 Came in this morning's mail, 
 And at a glance I noticed 
 
 A picture with joy nailed. 
 
 'Twas my little sister, Lillian 
 
 And Donal, my youngest brother, ' , 
 
 Whose faces I saw again 
 
 As they stood beside each other. 
 
 The smile on Lillian's face 
 
 Called forth the thoughts of home 
 
 And the memories of that dear old place, 
 Where in childhood I loved to roam. 
 
 How much such things are cherished, 
 Since they give pleasure in many ways 
 
 And bring back ere they perish 
 The memories of former d?>vs. 
 
 Your likeness now I behold 
 
 But ere many days have gone, 
 
 I'll spend vacation with you 
 
 In the enjoyments of home. 
 
 —50— 
 
I* O ii. M S FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 This poem was written about tlie first of No- 
 vember 1911, while I was thinking of the friends and 
 loved ones at home. 
 
 I think of friends now far away 
 
 That I've not seen for many a day, 
 
 Of father, mother, sister and brothers, 
 
 Whom I love on earth above all others. 
 
 Kow dear, the memories of childhood days, 
 
 Come to my mind in sweetest lays; 
 
 Memories so fond and tender yet, 
 
 Though far away I'll ne'er forget. 
 
 How I romped and played from night till morn 
 
 At the dear old homstead where I was born. 
 
 The orchard furnished the apple, grape and cherry; 
 
 'Tvvas a father's love to make me merry. 
 A ride and a wreck, with four horses so brave * 
 Left a scar on my head that I'll carry to the grave. 
 The story of the old schoolhcuse and many school 
 
 •mates 
 Is one that we all must sadly relate. 
 Seven years in their swiftness soon rolled around 
 After we moved to our home near a small country 
 
 town. 
 'Twas here a change in my life took place, 
 And God came to save me by His grace; 
 'Twas here I left with a sorrowing heart, 
 A new career in my life to start. 
 Today, as I think of God's care in the past, 
 
 —51— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 My faitli is increased in His care to the last. 
 
 And He who lias been my help and stay 
 
 Yviii keep me in the narrow way 
 
 Til] life with all it's cares is gone 
 
 And I meet with loved ones in that better home, 
 
 Vv'liere together we shall be 
 
 Througliout an endless eternity. 
 
 * The four horses referred to above were my 
 three older brothers and a cousin. They were pull- 
 ir.g a small cart on which I was riding and as a 
 QJick turn was made before the rock door-step the 
 ( iirt upset, with the results mentioned in the poem. 
 
 ♦:♦♦:♦♦;♦ 
 
 WHERE IS MOTHER? 
 
 Brother, brother, where is mother? 
 Is she at home tonight? 
 
 I'm tired of my dolls and other toys; 
 I've played with other girls and boys; 
 I've had my troubles and my joys, 
 And now it's mother, for not other 
 Can take her place tonight. 
 
 Sister, dear, she is not here; 
 She's now a suffragette, 
 
 She's gone her place in the club to fill; 
 —52— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 She's gone to discuss the income bill; 
 She's gone her place in the race to fill; 
 She's entered the fight for a woman's right; 
 She's now a suffragette. 
 
 Brother, brother, please call mother, 
 I'm tired as I can be; 
 
 Let papa go to the poles and vote; 
 Let papa sign the check and note; 
 Can't papa plan and work promote? 
 Brother, brother, please call mother; 
 It's mother I want to see. 
 
 Sister, on't cry, now came reply. 
 The nurse will care for you; 
 
 The nurse will see that your pet is fed; 
 The nurse will fix your little bed; 
 The nurse will hear when your prayers are 
 said; 
 She, too, will lay your shoes away; 
 The nurse will care for you. 
 
 The nurse will do what I want her to, 
 But she can't take mother's place. 
 
 It's mother's kiss that heals the bruise; 
 It's mother I want to care for my shoes; 
 It's mother that loves to hear the news, 
 Wlien by my bed, my prayers are said; 
 She can't take mother's place. 
 —53— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPL 
 
 O brother Lee, won't you love me. 
 While mother's gone away. 
 
 I think the nurse is very kind; 
 She'll do to care for the sick and blind. 
 But there isn't a hiifse that you can fiiid. 
 Can give my mother's good-night kiss. 
 O how her cheering words I miss. 
 Now brother Lee, won't you love ine, 
 While mother's gone away. 
 
 ********* 
 
 My first effort at hymn writing: 
 
 My sins, O Lord, I have seen; 
 
 Thy justice by Thy Word is made known, 
 Biit Jesus in love caine tp me 
 
 And fear with sorrow has flown. 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Lord Jesus, my life 'Thou hast bought; 
 
 O make me a blessing to men; 
 Thy Spirit in prayer have I sought 
 
 That souls to Thy cross I might win. 
 
 Help me by Thy Word to declare 
 
 That the sinner is by justice condemned 
 
 That God in His love did not spare 
 
 His Son though He dearly loved Him. 
 —54— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 In shame, my weakness I plead 
 
 Man's sin and Thy love to proclaim; 
 
 But grace to help in my need 
 
 Is promised by prayer in Thy name. 
 
 As time is fast passing away, 
 
 And iny race of lite will be run. 
 
 May I serv'6 Thee in love today 
 
 And hear Thy sweet voice, "Well done." 
 
 My first poem to be published was written about 
 the death of iny uncle, Mr. Charles M. Adams, and 
 published in the Central Record. 
 
 I 
 The Angel dt Death 
 
 Came to our home, 
 
 And in our sadness 
 
 W^e seem alone. 
 
 A father dear. 
 
 With tender love 
 Hias from uS gon^ 
 
 To his home above. 
 
 Tho he is in comfort 
 
 And we ih pain. 
 In Heaven above ^ 
 
 We'll meet dain^ s^ 
 
 —55- 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 IN MEJVIORY OF A DEPARTED FRIEND 
 
 O Father of wisdom, mercy and love 
 
 who showeth goodness from above, 
 
 Thou art great in knowledge and exceedingly wise 
 
 To give us the blessings of these earthly ties; 
 
 By them together we are closely bound 
 
 In the family ties of husband and wife 
 
 Yet in our earthly cares we oft forget 
 
 That we must sometime depart this life. 
 
 Teach us Father, how to bear 
 
 The grief we have, the sorrow of heart, 
 
 When our loved ones have passed over there, 
 
 And we remember that we must depart. 
 
 "We all the debt sometime must pay," 
 
 Is the message of Thy Word. 
 
 "God is love" may we say, 
 
 When these words we once have heard. 
 
 For then our thoughts are on the mansions-, 
 
 Which our Savior has gone to prepare; 
 
 And we think of the heavenly blessings 
 
 That with our loved ones we shall share. 
 
 ♦♦♦ 
 
 Lord Jesus, I may long 
 For the shining paths of wrong; 
 But give me strength I pray 
 To keep in the narrow way. 
 —56— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 Chorus 
 
 Lord Jesus, thou are watching 
 
 As I pursue my way; 
 Lord Jesus, thou are watching 
 
 My every deed each day. 
 ' Then to my prayer attend 
 That this life I may amend, 
 
 Which thou hast bought with thine own, 
 precious blood. 
 
 O how the cares and strife 
 Come in upon my life 
 And fain would claim the love 
 I've promised Him above. 
 
 May love in me be found 
 
 For lost souls, who all around, 
 
 'In darkness do abide, : 
 
 Knowing not the Crucified. 
 
 Blest message rec'd of Thee 
 That this day is given to me 
 A chance to point the sin-sick soul 
 To the Shepherd of the fold. 
 
 -57- 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 SliSt! 
 
 Sin I Sin! Sin! 
 
 The sinfulness of sin; 
 To picture its awfulness 
 
 Who can begin? 
 
 Lives there a man, 
 • Who cannot see 
 
 That sin's as black 
 As it can be? 
 
 Behold father Adam 
 
 And mother Eve, 
 If this truth 
 
 You would believe 
 
 'Z , Behold them leaving 
 
 X Paradise; 
 
 Leaving peace 
 
 For sin and strife. 
 
 Think you, to them. 
 
 This truth wasn't plain. 
 
 If not, behold theni 
 
 Once again. '-, 
 
 Behold them now 
 
 As father and mother, 
 
 —58-- I 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 Burying a son 
 
 Murdered by a brother. 
 
 Only two spns 
 
 Providence gave; 
 One is a murderer, 
 
 The other in the grave. 
 
 Sin! Sin! Sin! 
 
 The sinfulness of sin; 
 To picture its awfulness. 
 
 Who can begin? 
 
 ♦♦♦ 
 
 TIME AND TALENTS 
 
 The pastor knows 
 The member goes. 
 
 And pays his money too, 
 To places many 
 Where not any 
 
 Of good he hopes to do. 
 But if you knew, 
 
 The pastor's prayer 
 Is made for you 
 
 When you are there. 
 Surely your time 
 
 And money too 
 —59— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 Would be used 
 
 For the good they'd do. 
 
 SWEET SMELLING BLOSSOMS OF THE LOCUST 
 
 TREE 
 
 sweet smelling blossoms of the locust tree, 
 
 1 bid thee welcome back to me; 
 For thou hast brought by thy perfume 
 The hearts of men near in tune. 
 
 Thy blossoms white that grow so high 
 
 Are free to every passer-by. 
 
 And thus by thy fragrance rare 
 
 The rich and poor thy blessings sliare. 
 
 O sweet smelling blossoms of the locust tree. 
 
 This is the message you've brought to me 
 
 'Tis not the bird that seldom sings , 
 
 Nor the kind acts that are seldom done, 
 
 But the busy hands at little things, ] 
 
 Kind deeds and words to every one 
 
 That make the old feel younger 
 
 And bless the greatest number. 
 
 —60- 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 WHEN THE DEED IS DONE 
 
 A thought comes to the mind of man, 
 
 A fore-runner of the deed; 
 Now thoughts are bad as well as good, 
 
 So to your thoughts take heed. 
 
 Murders, thefts, the basest crimes. 
 Before the deeds were wrought. 
 
 Seemed not so vile to those who gave 
 Themselves the evil thought. 
 
 But bye and bye the thought indulged, 
 
 The deed is soon committed; 
 Then sin appears and man in tears 
 
 Would plead his sins remitted. 
 
 A word of warning I v/ould drop; 
 
 If evil you would shun. 
 Think how you will feel and what you'll say 
 
 When the deed is done. 
 
 Sorrow and remorse is brought 
 
 To all beneath the sun. 
 Because we cannot see what the end will be, 
 
 Before the deed is done. 
 
 . When once the deed has been committed. 
 The results we cannot shun; 
 —61— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 So think and think what the end will be. 
 Before the deed is done. 
 
 THE WRITERS OF TODAY 
 
 There is nothing is so new, 
 With the Gentile and Jew , 
 
 In the moral and spiritual world; 
 But the man with the pen 
 Has again and again 
 
 'His thoughts thereon unfurled. 
 
 So the man of today, 
 Wiho would make his way 
 
 Among the men of fame, 
 Must the better express. 
 Must clothe in new dress 
 
 The thoughts that are the same. 
 
 A task! 'tis true 
 For me and you. 
 
 To be distinguished so; 
 But speech isn't set 
 And men forget 
 
 As the years come an go. 
 
 A mission to the age 
 
 —62— 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 Had the poet and sage, 
 
 In whicli their years were spent; 
 Our duties are 
 The greater by far — 
 
 To a greater age we're sent. 
 
 Then to our task 
 The people ask 
 
 That we shall ever be, 
 And the good that's done 
 And the honors won, ' i 
 
 We'll know in eternity. 
 
 ♦>♦♦ 
 
 ■ i 
 
 OUR NEEDS OF TODAY 
 
 J 
 I love to thing of the daring faith 
 
 The early settlers had; j 
 
 Of how they subdued the wilderness 
 And left a land of fruitfulness I 
 
 To make their children glad. 
 
 Their customs too, I oft admire 
 And regret that some pass by; 
 "\ The old log chruch and schoolhouse too, 
 
 In which to serve, one room would do, 
 Seldom meet my eye. 
 
 —63- 
 
POEMS FOR THE COMMON PEOPLE 
 
 But my surroundings plainly tell 
 
 That progress has had its way; 
 That on my left and on my right 
 Calls are made for me to fight 
 ^■ The problems of today. 
 
 j 
 Strong faith I need and courage too 
 
 To obey the King's command, 
 But not the kind to fell the tree; 
 It's another find for ycu and me 
 
 That's needed in our land. 
 
 It's the liind that sees a restless age. 
 
 Yet one in which to serve. 
 The millions sit in heathen lands 
 With their idols in their hands — 
 
 To go, takes a steady nerve. 
 
 I bid good-bye to the schoolhouse and church 
 
 The buildings — let the churches stay; 
 I look on the harvest that's now grown white 
 And pray to be inspired by such a sight 
 To face our needs today. 
 
 -64— 
 
I