And when he stood stripped clean down to the skin,
A horrible thing to the rest,

He learned this sad lesson when it was too late

As his own simple self he was best.

Joseph Morris.

KEEP ON KEEPIN' ON

The author of these homely stanzas has caught perfectly the spirit which succeeds in the rough-and-tumble of actual life.

F the day looks kinder gloomy
And your chances kinder slim,

If the situation's puzzlin'
And the prospect's awful grim,
If perplexities keep pressin'
Till hope is nearly gone,
Just bristle up and grit your teeth
And keep on keepin' on.

Frettin' never wins a fight
And fumin' never pays;
There ain't no use in broodin'
In these pessimistic ways;
Smile just kinder cheerfully
Though hope is nearly gone,
And bristle up and grit your teeth
And keep on keepin' on.

There ain't no use in growlin'
And grumblin' all the time,

When music's ringin' everywhere
And everything's a rhyme.
Just keep on smilin' cheerfully
If hope is nearly gone,

And bristle up and grit your teeth
And keep on keepin' on.

Anonymous.

THE DISAPPOINTED

Those who have striven nobly and failed deserve sympathy. Sometimes they deserve also praise unreserved, in that they have refused to do something_ignoble which would have led to what the world calls success. They have lived the idea which Macbeth merely proclaimed:

"I dare do all that may become a man;
Who dares do more is none."

T

HERE are songs enough for the hero
Who dwells on the heights of fame;

I sing of the disappointed

For those who have missed their aim.

I sing with a tearful cadence

For one who stands in the dark,
And knows that his last, best arrow
Has bounded back from the mark,

I sing for the breathless runner,
The eager, anxious soul,

Who falls with his strength exhausted,
Almost in sight of the goal;

For the hearts that break in silence,
With a sorrow all unknown,
For those who need companions,
Yet walk their ways alone.

There are songs enough for the lovers
Who share love's tender pain,
I sing for the one whose passion
Is given all in vain.

For those whose spirit comrades

Have missed them on their way,
I sing, with a heart o'erflowing,
This minor strain to-day.

We speak of the comforts and ease of old age, but our noblest selves do not really desire them. We want to do more than exist We want to be alive to the very last.

LET me live out my years in heat of blood!

Let me die drunken with the dreamer's wine!
Let me not see this soul-house built of mud
Go toppling to the dust-a vacant shrine!

Let me go quickly like a candle light
Snuffed out just at the heyday of its glow!
Give me high noon-and let it then be night!
Thus would I go.

And grant that when I face the grisly Thing,
My song may triumph down the gray Perhaps!
Let me be as a tuneswept fiddlestring

That feels the Master Melody—and snaps.

Permission of the Author.

From "The Quest" (collected lyrics),
The Macmillan Co.

John G. Neihard

COLUMBUS

This poem pictures courage and high resolution. To the terrors of an unknown sea and the mutinous dismay of the sailors Columbus has but two things to oppose—his faith and his unflinching will. But these suffice, as they always do. In the last four lines of the poem is a lesson for our nation to-day. The seas upon which our ideals have launched us are perilous and uncharted. In some ways our whole voyage of democracy seems futile. Shall we turn back, or shall we, like Columbus, answer the falterers in words that leap like a leaping sword: "Sail on, sail on"?

EHIND him lay the gray Azores,

BE

Behind the Gates of Hercules;
Before him not the ghost of shores;
Before him only shoreless seas.

The good mate said: "Now must we pray,
For lo! the very stars are gone.

Brave Adm'r'l, speak; what shall I say?"
"Why, say: 'Sail on! sail on! and on!'

"My men grow mutinous day by day;
My men grow ghastly wan and weak."
The stout mate thought of home; a spray
Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek.
"What shall I say, brave Adm'r'l, say,
If we sight naught but seas at dawn?"
"Why, you shall say at break of day:
'Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!'"

They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow,

Until at last the blanched mate said:

"Why, now not even God would know

Should I and all my men fall dead.

These very winds forget their way,
For God from these dread seas is gone.
Now speak, brave Adm'r'l; speak and say—
He said: "Sail on! sail on! and on!"

They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the

mate:

"This mad sea shows his teeth to-night.

He curls his lip, he lies in wait,
With lifted teeth, as if to bite!
Brave Adm'r'l, say but one good word:
What shall we do when hope is gone?"
The words leapt like a leaping sword:
"Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!"

Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck,
And peered through darkness. Ah, that night
Of all dark nights! And then a speck-
A light! A light! A light! A light!
It grew, a starlit flag unfurled!

It grew to be Time's burst of dawn.
He gained a world; he gave that world
Its grandest lesson: "On! sail on!"

From "Joaquin Miller's Complete Poems,"
Harr Wagner Pub. Co.

Joaquin Miller.

PER ASPERA

A motto has been made of the Latin phrase "per aspera ad astra," of which the translation sometimes given is "through bolts and bars to the stars."

THe is not bound

HANK God, a man can grow!

With earthward gaze to creep along the ground:
Though his beginnings be but poor and low,

Thank God, a man can grow!

The fire upon his altars may burn dim,

The torch he lighted may in darkness fail,
And nothing to rekindle it avail,-

Yet high beyond his dull horizon's rim,
Arcturus and the Pleiads beckon him.

From "Poems,"

Houghton Mifflin Co.

Florence Earle Coates.