V.
See, the purples of even! Lo, Love has a rosy hand!
Hate fades dim in the distance and grief is a far-off land!
Sweet, 'tis time for the slumber!
With croon of the cradle-song,
Rest we there in the Father's arms where the little ones belong!
Dry your eyes, my love, and we
Both shall laugh with rhapsody,
Hand in hand through all the days
And the world's peculiar ways!
What to us unhappiness
Of the sad heart's storm and stress?
Joy shall hold our hands and twine
Heart to heart through storm and shine!
The Baby's Hand.
In these days of loot and lucre
When no chap can get enough,
And the man that wins the praises
Is the one that gets the stuff;
When the fellow with a plenty
Of the "long green" at command
Is the one that knocks persimmons
From the tall trees of the land,—
What for me shall such things matter? There's a glory more divine
Than the jingle of the guinea with the baby's hand in mine!
O, it's nice enough,—the money,—
When the weather's fierce and blue
And the blankets of its comfort
Come and warm the heart of you!
But it soon demands the minutes
Every hour and day and week,
With the gall of angry despot
And a most unmeasured cheek;
So I'm reconciled to leave it and its tyrannies resign
For the ways of love and laughter with the baby's hand in mine!
For the jingle of the dollars
Soon disturbs the dearest dreams
With the thunders of their madness
And the rumble of their schemes,
Till the heart and brain are weary
And the revel of their roar
Drive away the mirth and music
From the longings evermore!
But the skies above are bluest and the heavens all a-shine
With the faces of the angels when the baby's hand in mine!
Mister Midas, take your millions
And the glitter of your gold!
Life has treasures where the heart is
That have never yet been told!
There are sweeter things to cherish,
There's song of earth and sky,
That are only faintest whispers
Of the raptures bye and bye!
You have little that I value! Let for me the roses twine
With the laughter of the lovers and the baby's hand in mine!
Little Sermons.
The prophets only dared to preach what other men felt but chose to conceal.
The Devil is only the personification of the evil things which men find in their own souls for conquering.
Courage is so rare in the presence of priest-craft that when it once speaks it fashions creeds for all the centuries.
Caught on the Fly.
A Christian hand achieves more blessings than a religious heart.
If virtue were as expensive as vice, we would all be malefactors.
It takes plenty of grit to keep a proper edge on the tools of success.
There is always a hole for the fellow that wants out, if he is dirty enough to crawl or dig.
What matters it if the peaches are killed and the wheat crop proves a failure! The water-melon crop is still ahead of us, and a heaven of joy in every ruddy heart!
Love and Song.
Ah, Love is no phantom,
Love's never a dream!
One hour in her kingdom
Is life all supreme!
And ever and ever
The scepter she swings
For hearts that are happy
With laughter that sings!
And Song is her sister
That makes for the feet
All the carpets of roses
And blossoms so sweet!
With hands linked together
They wander the ways!
How joyous their kisses
For grief-laden days!
Sooner Sayings.
The race is not to the swift but to the fellow who starts the night before.
Money not only makes the mare go, but it saves you from standing in line at the land-office.
A journey made before the proclamation is issued is a valuable experience and saves much perjury afterwards.
We'll all go to the Promised Land at the time of the big opening; and God grant that we get a filing on a fine claim and no contest.
There is no use in trying to sooner past St. Peter. Have your booth certificate properly signed and ready for inspection or he won't put your name down on the books.
Don't expect to hold down a claim in the New Jerusalem unless you live on it. This thing of using two poles and a hole in the ground for a homestead residence, won't work when you make your final proof.
Caught on the Fly.
Clouds are found where the most flowers bloom: only the desert is a land of clear skies.
War may be a gentleman's game, but the Devil usually wins the most stakes before it breaks up.
All the griefs and tears of the world would cease if Love could only have her way for a very little while.
All [Fool's] Day.
God bless the man who hallowed April First!
(Or was it, after all, some saintly woman?)
May countless barrels of honors brimming burst
Across the realms he rules so super-human!
A wondrous person he in every part
With true affection filling all his heart!
For 'tis but proper that one holy day
From all the hundreds should be consecrated,
While Nature triumphs over Arts' display
And Life's dear memories are celebrated:
This day is ours! Behold, no master rules!
We all are equals in the Realm of Fools!
The Cap and Bells to active work awake,
All dressed in motley garbs for their appearing,
With no disguises for the parts we take,
Forgetful of the maskings so endearing;
And we, the fools before we posed as men,
In common claim our heritage again!
E'en every dog, they tell us, has his day,
On which fond fortune comes and cheers and blesses;
And as the years roll on their endless way,
This one and that go by with soft caresses,—
How proper, then, that one day from the throng
Should unto Us and all the Fools belong!
There are no wise men to contest our claim,—
This day is ours,—is ours without disputing!
Who boasts his wisdom bows his head in shame
And knows his folly ere it goes to fruiting;
The truth we speak! Today we proudly know it,
And in the open to each other show it!
We meet as equals once for all the year!
The wise and foolish shout with kindred laughter;
No greater and no smaller fools appear,
And Folly flouts the dullard calling after!
No tryant reigns! No hoary falsehood waves
Imperial scepters over willing slaves!
Then doff the fetters and discard the chains!
Today is ours and let us be rejoicing!
Forget the wise men and their soggy brains
While we our native follies now are voicing!
We all are fools! Let all the Fools unmask!
One great inheritance is all we ask!
Some men throw a dollar in the contribution box and immediately figure compound interest on it at two per cent per month.
In the Orchards of Spring.
A cloud of white in the orchard
And blossoms fair in the sun,
When love comes by in the morning
And sings till the day is done!
A cloud of white in the orchard!
O, branches hung with the bloom
At touch of her fairy fingers
And breath of her sweet perfume!
A cloud of white in the orchard
And skies with their deeps of blue,
And songs of the purple morning
That come at the thoughts of you!
A cloud of white in the orchard,
Where Love and her feet has run,
Where you came by in the morning
And stayed till the set of sun!
O, cloud of white in the orchard
And days with the skies of blue!
And songs that were sweet with laughter
And sang with the lips of you!
The white is there in the orchard,
The blossoms break as of yore,
But silent the song and the laughter
For you will return no more!
Sunshine or Shadow.
Sunshine or shadow,
Righteousness or wrong,
Here we pluck a blossom,
There we sing a song;
Whether morn or even,
Whether noon or night,
Stars are there above us
With their love and light!
Sunshine or shadow!
Through the changing years,
There is love and laughter,
There is toil and tears!
But the stars above us
Blossom in the blue,
And the days are singing
Through the lips of you!
The great souls of human history have come from the deserts and the waste places of the earth to wield the sword and to hold the scepter, to sing the great song and [prophesy] of holiness and peace. Solitude is the true mother of dauntless men, and from her divine ministrations they walk forth to lead and conquer and make new epochs in the history of the race.
Dreams.
Day-dreams and night-dreams,—
All the dreams you will;
Black dreams and bright dreams
Up and down the hill!
What if nights are gloomy?
What if days are sad?
Life is always bloomy
With the roses glad!
Day-dreams and night-dreams,—
All the dreams you will;
Love is there with kisses
Through the good and ill!
Love is there with music
And her heart so true,
And amid the shadows
Still the eyes of you!
Caught on the Fly.
Back-bone is the chief ingredient in the hash mixture of greatness.
There may be plenty of room at the top, but it's a mighty cold place to spend the winter.
Love never has time to spare from joy while she demands or listens to explanations of a fault.
Teddy's on a Hunting Trip.
"Let the meeting be in order!" said the chairman, looking wise;
(And a mountain lion was he of the most enormous size!)
"There is business of importance to consider; for they say
That a danger swift and sudden on a special comes this way;
I can feel it in my whiskers, and I hear it in the air:
Mister Teddy's gone a-huntin' and is loaded up for bear!"
Then old Bruin rose: "This Terror has no pets among the brutes,
And the first thing in his path-way is the first thing that he shoots!
Even cotton-tails" (The rabbits in their burrows flattened out!)
"Have no promises of safety when he wanders hereabout;
From the grizzly to the chip-munk it is well to have a care;
Mister Teddy's gone a-huntin' and he's loaded up for bear!"
Then up rose the wolf in wisdom: "I am sure that Bruin's right,
And this Mister Man with Big Teeth slaughters every thing in sight!
Why, they say he wears a slicker and sleeps close beside his nag
On the pommel of his saddle in a mammoth sleeping-bag!
We must watch him mighty careful or a common fate we share;—
Mister Teddy's on a huntin' trip and loaded up for bear!"
"Mister Chairman!" Said the Old Deer with broad antlers great and strong,
"I have roamed the woods and prairies and endured the dangers long,
I've escaped the hunter's rifle, I've survived the winter's cold
And the summer's heat undaunted, with a courage brave and bold;
But my coward legs now tremble, even I the panic share:
Mister Teddy's on a-huntin' trip and loaded up for bear!"
"Mister Chairman!" cried the Woodchuck in a voice, defiant, shrill,
"By what right does Mister Big Teeth come to slaughter us and kill?
Is not he our chosen ruler, sworn to keep the law intact,
And to serve his faithful subjects with his every thought and act?
Let us fight if he would slay us! Turn about is only fair,
When he comes around a-huntin' and is loaded up for bear!"
"Treason! Treason!" cried the rabbits; "Treason! Treason!" shouted they;
"If he wants to come and hunt us, he must have his bloody way!
It would be the direst folly for the timid, helpless ones
To combat the deadly bullets of his thunder-spitting guns!
There's a better way to foil him,—'tis a way beyond compare,
When our Teddy's on a-huntin' trip and loaded up for bear!"
"Resolved by all the animals through all the South and West,
When Mister Roosevelt comes along we'll take a quiet rest!
We'll stay at home delightedly and all his dogs and guns
Will never find us where we dwell with wives and little ones!
Every rabbit in his burrow and each lion to his lair,
When this Teddy comes a-huntin' and all loaded up for bear!"
They voted "aye" unanimous; and fast and far they hied
O'er dale and desert, wood and plain, each to his ingle-side!
They hid themselves so closely that no hunter cared to roam
Where these the timid subjects each had fashioned him a home!
They were too wise for Teddy and they still life's blessings share,
Though Teddy went a-huntin' them all loaded up for bear!
Sooner Sayings.
Blood tells when it comes to annuities and allotments.
God made the country, but it never fruited till the boomer boomed it.
The greatest heroes of the world are not those extolled in song or glorified with monuments and statues. They are the undiscovered ones who in tears and darkness lived their uttermost for the accomplishments of lofty purposes and failed utterly just before the triumph came.
Sooner Sayings.
All town-sites look alike on the map.
A claim in the run is worth two in the lottery.
One contest beats a fire, and two are worse than a ship-wreck.
A stake on a home-stead is more valuable than a palace on an Indian allotment.
As smoke to the eyes and vinegar to the teeth, so is a contest to the poor man seeking a home.
Little Sermons.
Eloquent sermons never saved a sin-sick soul.
Hate would narrow heaven to a one man's closet.
Charity is the first lesson in the school of righteousness.
The religion that feeds only the heart can never hope to save hungry souls.
If you shake hands with sin as you leave it, you will find it at the station to meet you when the train stops.
In April Days.
The budding trees
Perfume the breeze
With breath of blossomed mysteries,
And soft winds play
By grassy way
Through every laughing April day!
Suns rosy rise
Through turquoise skies,
And life looks out through tender eyes;
While cloudlets lift
Through rent and rift,
Where floating islands drive and drift.
Clear waters sing
From stream and spring,
With music in their murmuring,
And where they drip,
With thirsty sip
A lonely violet lifts its lip.
The balmy croons
Of tender tunes
Sing through the drowsy afternoons,
And faint perfumes
Of bursting blooms
Haunt all the aisles of dying glooms!
And dreams arise
Of perfect skies
And all the worlds of prophets wise,
And tender hands
Whose fond commands
Lead fast and far through Love's sweet lands.
And bending low
We fondly know
The love-songs of the Long Ago,
So sweet and fair
With raptures rare,
And lips of welcome waiting there.
O, fields afar,
Whose echoes are
Soft whispers flung from sun and star,
Still faint and dim
I hear your hymn
Across the wide horizon's rim!
Little Sermons.
Drowning men were never rescued by eloquent preachers who stand on the shore and shout at them how to swim.
The church that brings shadows to this world hangs no sunshine o'er the portals of the next.
The noblest ambition of good men is to pluck the thorns from among the roses of upright living.
Without Embarassment.
(John D. Rockefeller has recently offered the Congregational Missionary Society $100,000; after much discussion, they have decided to take the money.)
It must be very trying
When the wicked millionaires
Desire to trade the pulpits
Dirty dollars for their prayers;
But I miss the shame, you see,
And am happy as can be,
For John D.
Rockyfeller he
Hain't a-throwin' any of his awful coin at me!
Of course, if some rich sinner
Should attempt to subsidize,
I certainly would see, sir,
If I dared accept the prize;
But I worry none, you see,
And my fancies all are free,
For John D.
Rockyfeller he
Hain't expressed a notion to be subsidizin' me!
But I—I have the promise,—
You may spread the joyous news—
I get whatever millions
That the churches may refuse;
But I know still poor I'll be
And from dirty dollars free,
For John D.
Rockyfeller he
Will never have occasion to pass on the coin to me!
In the Dark.
It's all too lonely for speech,
Too drear for a swift remark;
I only grope till I faintly reach
Your finger-tips in the dark.
But there in the darkness near
Where the shadows clutch and cling,
Above the plash of the bitter tear,
A song and the lips that sing!
Caught on the Fly.
Poor cooks make rich undertakers.
Self confidence is the sharpest weapon in life's fierce battles.
It is our own infirmities that lead us to suspect infirmities in our fellows.
Because it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom may account for the wives of so many owning all the property.
"When Teddy Squares the Deal."
They tell us that the good old play
We call the game of life,
Is fair no more, and every day
Leads on to more of strife;
The cards are marked, the hands are stuffed,
The players bunco feel,
And graft has all the goodness bluffed
Till Teddy squares the deal!
The gamblers who have won the stakes
By shady ways of wrong
Will find of dough their biggest cakes
And sing another song;
The loaded dice so used of yore,
The marks that help the steal,
Will disappear forever more
When Teddy squares the deal.
Then honest men will have a chance
To play an even game,
And thrift and virtue swift advance
To happiness and fame;
No more will robbers ply their trade,
Nor shout the tin-horn's spiel;
The world will call a spade a spade
When Teddy squares the deal!
He'll slay the "bear", he'll rope the "bull,"
He'll make the brokers stare;
He'll fill the jails with robbers full,
And teach them to beware;
He'll fill the rich man full of pains
And [millionaires] shall reel,
While poor men prosper in their gains,
When Teddy squares the deal.
I think that life will be worth while
When force and fraud no more
Confederate with smirk and smile
To grab the people's store;
Get in the game! The laws will cease
To help the robbers steal,
And all the land will live in peace
When Teddy squares the deal!
A Date with Joy.
When Sorrow stops and hails you,
Your pleasures to destroy,
Just tell him, "Something ails you!
I've got a date with Joy!"
"The roads are good for travel,—
You'd better go away;
Just hit the flying gravel,
For Joy is here today!"