Our Profession and Other Poems Part 6

THE TEACHER'S SOLILOQUY.

And so another week has gone, And I once more am left alone Within my silent room; My mind is worn by fervent care, And, languis.h.i.+ng, it needs repair For duties yet to come.

From all the cares which come on me I cannot be entirely free Thro' all this mortal life; But cares imported from abroad Make much more ponderous the load, And cause more bitter strife.

With patient labor, day by day, I work along this toilsome way Intent on doing good; My pupils' hearts I would inspire With n.o.ble thoughts and strong desire For intellectual food.

I note the various schemes and arts, As prompted by the different hearts, They lead to different deeds.

As deeds and hearts will correspond, By observation it is found There should be different meeds.

The wish made known for some will do, And some a gentle frown would rue And feel extremely sad; While others need a sterner look, A reprimand, or sharp rebuke, And sometimes e'en the rod.

Most gladly would I hail the day When children cheerfully obey, (If e'er that day shall come,) But ere that happy day I see, A reformation there must be In government at home.

And what is my reward for all This watchful care and earnest toil To train the youthful mind?

From Ignorance it draws a curse-- Though pocket hold a puny purse-- Yet one reward I find--

To see the young prepared for life And launched upon the outward strife Of its tempestuous sea, And know that I have trained that mind, With n.o.ble thought that heart refined, Is rich reward for me.

When all life's lessons have been taught, And my own soul with love is fraught For earnest, striving man, Perhaps an understanding Lord Will proffer as a great reward, Redemption through His plan.

A beautiful vision I sometimes see, That stands in the distance and smiles upon me; It points with a finger of radiance bright, To the fleeting shades of departing night.

I would gladly know if this scene designed To be a true type of the human mind, When the mists and clouds of dark ignorance, Shall into the realms of the unknown advance.

SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST.

The survival of the fittest, The advancement of the best, The enthronement of the truest In the world's great crucial test, Is emblazoned on each banner Wherever man is found, And e'en 'mong plants and animals This holds, the world around.

Then prepare for the survival, Allow no base retreat, (Dethronement means delinquency,) Endure the cold and heat; The elements that meet us May all be overcome, With G.o.d and right ever in sight, The victory may be won.

THE DIFFERENCE.

I have scanned the roll of teachers, Have noted the Aarons and Hurs Who have stayed education's Moses, And removed the c.u.mbrous bars That environed its anxious spirit, And bowed down its life with cares.

I have counted them all over, Have a.n.a.lyzed heart and brain, Have watched them in daily labor That I might some key obtain To unlock the magical power, By which some supremely reign.

I have listened with ear enraptured, Have caught the gleam of the eye, Have felt the glow of emotion When bright corruscations fly From mental touch and fervor, That prompted others to try.

The soul knows no fire so warming, No light so fervent and true, As the glow of the living presence Of one of the n.o.ble few Who counts her pain but pleasure, If good she may only do.

A teacher who knows her subjects And has much of didactic art, Will present the truths of science To the youthful mind and heart, In ways so apt and skillful They will never more depart,

But will gather strength and beauty With every day and hour, Until they become a fortress-- An irresistible power To dispel the gloom of doubting That oft o'er the mind may lower.

No truth is learned by mere telling, The mind must conceive and apply; There is inspiration, knowledge, In one's own discovery That lead to efforts and struggles For a greater mastery.

Herein lies the power of teaching: A systemized method to do That reaches the understanding, And leads on to fields anew, Where _Thought_ shall be the head master, And Truth shall Error subdue;

A heart that is wholly given To leading the youthful mind, To discover the powers and virtues They within themselves shall find, And mould them into actions Progressive, strong, refined;

A spirit that sees in the being A gift from G.o.d unto man, That must live on thro' all ages, Though influenced by some plan That here has been determined, But G.o.d shall hereafter scan;

A tongue that is but the voicing Of a heart aflame with its cause, That speaks of science and morals From a knowledge of their laws; That speeds the true and worthy, But bids all deception pause;

A judgment so wisely balanced As to know what must be done To avoid the indiscretions Into which so many run, Of telling, instead of leading, Till the victory has been won.

In reckoning the moral stock Of any man or woman, It is but right to recollect That all of us are human; If heart be true, the body frail, And honestly he's striven, Tho' oft a brother's plans may fail, He ought to be forgiven.

MIND AWAKENED.

The battle is not to the mighty, Nor the race to the fleet of foot, The peak is not reached by bounding, Nor the goal by a devious route; The problems of science and culture Have been ages upon the way; The greatest vict'ries 'mong nations Have not been won in a day.

'Tis the steady tramping onward Of feet that will not turn aside From the path they are pursuing, That wins at the eventide.

'Tis the firm determination Of a strong and unyielding will, Moved on by gigantic action Of forces that cannot be still, That has won the greatest honors 'Mong nations whose moral power Have lighted liberty's beacon In despondency's darkest hour.

The mind that is sometimes darkest When it struggles for light and power, Breaks off the bands of thraldom And itself like some strong tower, Becomes the bulwark of nations In defense of some sacred cause That looks toward the world's advancement, Through reign of beneficent laws.

THE OGRE.

There's an ogre abroad, boys, There's an ogre abroad, A three-handed monster That makes his abode In hamlet and city, In country and town, And revels in death As he drags people down.

He's a sly old destroyer, Very loth to admit That the snares he is using Are fraud and deceit.

He has slain and devoured More than the sword; By all earnest people He is greatly abhorred, For he leads to disease, To sorrow and death, As poison exhales From his presence and breath.

He fastens himself On bright, innocent youth, And slyly allures him From virtue and truth.

He holds by the throat The servants who wait To hear his excuses; And sad is their fate, For insidious smile Is his only excuse To victims who suffer Defeat and abuse.

So sly are his movements, So stealthy his tread, Like a vampire, on blood He is frequently fed, While his victim, unconscious, Makes no defence; He steals mind and honor And good common sense.

If you meet him, my boy, Beware of his grasp, For his smiles are so sweet; But on you he will clasp The shackles he carries Forever concealed, And when he secures you He seldom will yield.