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The man possessed by a vision is not perplexed, troubled, restricted, as the rest of us are. He wanders yet is not lost from home, sees a million dawns yet never night descending, faces death and destruction and in them finds triumph.


[E whom a dream hath possessed knoweth no more of doubting,

For mist and the blowing of winds and the mouthing of words he scorns;

Not the sinuous speech of schools he hears, but a knightly shouting,

And never comes darkness down, yet he greeteth a million morns.

He whom a dream hath possessed knoweth no more of roaming;

All roads and the flowing of waves and the speediest flight he knows,

But wherever his feet are set, his soul is forever homing, And going, he comes, and coming he heareth a call and


He whom a dream hath possessed knoweth no more of


At death and the dropping of leaves and the fading of suns he smiles,

For a dream remembers no past and scorns the desire of

a morrow,

And a dream in a sea of doom sets surely the ultimate isles.

He whom a dream hath possessed treads the impalpable


From the dust of the day's long road he leaps to a laughing star,

And the ruin of worlds that fall he views from eternal arches,

And rides God's battlefield in a flashing and golden car.

From "The Lyric Year,"

Mitchell Kennerley.

Sheamus O Sheel.


As necessity is the mother of invention, strong desire is the mother of attainment.

IF you go out and fight for it,
F you want a thing bad enough

Work day and night for it,

Give up your time and your peace and your sleep for it, If only desire of it

Makes you quite mad enough

Never to tire of it,

Makes you hold all other things tawdry and cheap for it

If life seems all empty and useless without it

And all that you scheme and you dream is about it,
If gladly you'll sweat for it,

Fret for it,

Plan for it,

Lose all your terror of God or man for it,

If you'll simply go after that thing that you want,
With all your capacity,

Strength and sagacity,

Faith, hope and confidence, stern pertinacity,
If neither cold poverty, famished and gaunt,
Nor sickness nor pain

Of body or brain

Can turn you away from the thing that you want,
If dogged and grim you besiege and beset it,

You'll get it!

From "Things As They Are,"
Copyright, 1916,

George H. Doran Co., Publishers.

Berton Braley.


The Duke of Wellington said that the battle of Waterloo was won on the cricket fields of Eton. English sport at its best is admirable; it asks outward triumph if possible, but far more it asks that one do his best till the very end and treat his opponent with courtesy and fairness. The spirit thus instilled at school has again and again been carried in after life into the large affairs of the nation.

HERE'S a breathless hush in the Close


Ten to make and the match to win-
A bumping pitch and a blinding light,
An hour to play and the last man in.
And it's not for the sake of a ribboned coat
Or the selfish hope of a season's fame,
But his Captain's hand on his shoulder smote;
"Play up! Play up! And play the game!"

The sand of the desert is sodden red

Red with the wreck of a square that broke;
The Gatling's jammed and the colonel dead,
And the regiment's blind with dust and smoke.
The river of death has brimmed his banks,
And England's far and Honor a name,
But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks,
"Play up! Play up! And play the game!"

This is the word that year by year,
While in her place the School is set,
Every one of her sons must hear,
And none that hears it dare forget.

This they all with a joyful mind

Bear through life like a torch in flame,

And falling, fling to the host behind

"Play up! Play up! And play the game!"

From "Admirals All, and Other Verses,"

The John Lane Co.

Henry Newbolt.


"Lord, what fools these mortals be!" exclaims Puck in A Midsummer Night's Dream. And well might the fairy marvel who sees folk vexing themselves over matters that nine times out of ten come to nothing. Much wiser is the man who smiles at misfortunes, even when they are real ones and affect him personally. Charles Lamb once cheerfully helped to hiss off the stage a play he himself had written.


HE man who frets at worldly strife
Grows sallow, sour, and thin;

Give us the lad whose happy life

Is one perpetual grin:

He, Midas-like, turns all to gold-
He smiles when others sigh,
Enjoys alike the hot and cold,

And laughs though wet or dry.

There's fun in everything we meet,-
The greatest, worst, and best;
Existence is a merry treat,
And every speech a jest:

So, come what may, the man's in luck
Who turns it all to glee,

And laughing, cries, with honest Puck,
"Good Lord! what fools ye be."

Joseph Rodman Drake.


Calmness of mind to face anything the future may have in store is expressed in this quatrain.

HERE'S a sigh to those who love me

And a smile to those who hate;

And whatever sky's above me,
Here's a heart for every fate.

Lord Byron


An optimist has been described as a man who orders oysters at a restaurant and expects to find a pearl to pay the bill with. This of course is not optimism, but brazen brainlessness. Yet somehow the pearls come only to those who expect them.


WEAR ain't been the very best ;—
Purty hard by trouble pressed;
But the rough way leads to rest,-
Here's hopin'!

Maybe craps way short; the rills
Couldn't turn the silent mills;
But the light's behind the hills,-
Here's hopin'!

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