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It Can Be Done.
by Joseph Morris.
FOREWORD
This is a volume of inspirational poems. Its purpose is to bring men courage and resolution, to cheer them, to fire them with new confidence when they grow dispirited, to strengthen their faith that THINGS CAN BE DONE. It is better for this purpose than the entire works of any one poet, for it takes the cream of many and has greater diversity than any one writer can show.
It is made up chiefly of very recent poems--not such as were written for anthologies of poetical "gems," but such as speak directly to the heart, always in very simple language, often in the phrases of shop or office or street. Included, however, with the poems of the day are a few of the fine old pieces that have been of comfort to men through the ages.
Besides the poems themselves, the volume contains helps to their understanding and enjoyment. The pieces are introduced by short comments; these serve the same purpose as the strain played by the pianist before the singer begins to sing; they create a mood, give a point of view, throw light on the meaning of what follows. Also the lives of the authors are briefly summarized; this is in answer to our natural interest in the writer of a poem we like, and in the case of living poets it brings together facts hardly to be found anywhere else.
Finally, the book is not one to be read and then cast aside. It is to be kept as a constant companion and an unfailing recourse in weariness or gloom. Human companions are not always in the mood to cheer us, and may talk upon themes we dislike. But this book will converse or be silent, it is never out of sorts or discouraged, and so far from being wed to some single topic, it will speak to us at any time on any subject we desire.
To many authors and publishers acknowledgment is due for generous permission to use copyright material.
IT CAN BE DONE
BE THE BEST OF WHATEVER YOU ARE
We all dream of great deeds and high positions, away from the pettiness and humdrum of ordinary life. Yet success is not occupying a lofty place or doing conspicuous work; it is being the best that is in you. Rattling around in too big a job is much worse than filling a small one to overflowing. Dream, aspire by all means; but do not ruin the life you must lead by dreaming pipe-dreams of the one you would like to lead.
Make the most of what you have and are. Perhaps your trivial, immediate task is your one sure way of proving your mettle. Do the thing near at hand, and great things will come to your hand to be done.
If you can't be a pine on the top of the hill Be a scrub in the valley--but be The best little scrub by the side of the rill; Be a bush if you can't be a tree.
If you can't be a bush be a bit of the gra.s.s, And some highway some happier make; If you can't be a muskie then just be a ba.s.s-- But the liveliest ba.s.s in the lake!
We can't all be captains, we've got to be crew, There's something for all of us here.
There's big work to do and there's lesser to do, And the task we must do is the near.
If you can't be a highway then just be a trail, If you can't be the sun be a star; It isn't by size that you win or you fail-- Be the best of whatever you are!
_Douglas Malloch._
THE HOUSE BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD
This poem has as its keynote friends.h.i.+p and sympathy for other people.
It is a paradox of life that by h.o.a.rding love and happiness we lose them, and that only by giving them away can we keep them for ourselves.
The more we share, the more we possess. We of course find in other people weaknesses and sins, but our best means of curing these are through a wise and sympathetic understanding.
Let me live in a house by the side of the road, Where the race of men go by-- The men who are good and the men who are bad, As good and as bad as I.
I would not sit in the scorner's seat, Or hurl the cynic's ban;-- Let me live in a house by the side of the road And be a friend to man.
I see from my house by the side of the road, By the side of the highway of life, The men who press with the ardor of hope, The men who are faint with the strife.
But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears-- Both parts of an infinite plan;-- Let me live in my house by the side of the road And be a friend to man.
I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead And mountains of wearisome height; And the road pa.s.ses on through the long afternoon And stretches away to the night.
But still I rejoice when the travelers rejoice, And weep with the strangers that moan, Nor live in my house by the side of the road Like a man who dwells alone.
Let me live in my house by the side of the road Where the race of men go by-- They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong, Wise, foolish--so am I.
Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat Or hurl the cynic's ban?-- Let me live in my house by the side of the road And be a friend to man.
_Sam Walter Foss._
From "Dreams in Homespun."
FOUR THINGS
What are the qualities of ideal manhood? Various people have given various answers to this question. Here the poet states what qualities he thinks indispensable.
Four things a man must learn to do If he would make his record true: To think without confusion clearly; To love his fellow-men sincerely; To act from honest motives purely; To trust in G.o.d and Heaven securely.
_Henry Van d.y.k.e._
From "Collected Poems."
IF
The central idea of this poem is that success comes from self-control and a true sense of the values of things. In extremes lies danger. A man must not lose heart because of doubts or opposition, yet he must do his best to see the grounds for both. He must not be deceived into thinking either triumph or disaster final; he must use each wisely--and push on.
In all things he must hold to the golden mean. If he does, he will own the world, and even better, for his personal reward he will attain the full stature of manhood.
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master; If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim, If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two imposters just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools: