"You're an Early-Victorian Sparrow! Now the curious end of this fable, Though they searched from the barn to the stable, So he wasn't the bond slave of habit, And he didn't have webs on his toes; And perhaps he runs round like a rabbit, From "Collected Poems," Frederick A. Stokes Co. Alfred Noyes. CAN YOU SING A SONG? Nothing lifts the spirit more than a song, especially the inward song of a worker who can sound it alike at the beginning of his task, in the heat of midday, and in the weariness and cool of the evening. AN you sing a song to greet the sun, Can you cheerily tackle the work to be done, Can you sing a song when the day's half through, Can you sing a song? Can you sing a song at the close of the day, Joseph Morris. KNOW THYSELF It seems impossible that human beings could endure so much until we realize that they have endured it. The spirit of man performs miracles; it transcends the limitations of flesh and blood. It is like Uncle Remus's account of Brer Rabbit climbing a tree. "A rabbit couldn't do that," the little boy protested. "He did," Uncle Remus responded; "he was jes' 'bleeged to." EINED by an unseen tyrant's hand, Rspurred by an unseen tyrant's will, The while you cry in your despair, Fear not the goad, fear not the pace, Your Self, high-seated charioteer, Your Self that sees the shining length And anguish of your driven soul, Fighting upon the terror field Where man and Fate came breast to breast, This endless fight for failure's sake!" His sword, and thrust you through to die, It was your own Self saving you, That one who stands behind the screen, A being out of Paradise. The Self no human eye has seen, The living one who never tires, Fed by the deep eternal fires. Your flaming Self, with two-edged sword, Made in the likeness of the Lord, Angel and guardian at the gate, Master of Death and King of Fate! From "The Hour Has Struck," The John Lane Co. Angela Morgan. JUST WHISTLE There is a psychological benefit in the mere physical act of whistling. When the body makes music, the spirit falls into harmonies too and the discords that assail us cease to make them. selves heard. WHEN times are bad an' folks are sad WHEN An' gloomy day by day, Jest try your best at lookin' glad Don't mind how troubles bristle, Jest take a rose or thistle. An' change your tone An' whistle, whistle, whistle! A song is worth a world o' sighs. Don't mind how troubles bristle, An' change your tone An' whistle, whistle, whistle! Each day comes with a life that's new, But still beneath a bend o' blue The world rolls on to glory. Don't mind how troubles bristle, Jest take a rose or thistle. An' change your tone An' whistle, whistle, whistle! "The Atlanta Constitution." Printed in and permission from Frank L. Stanton. "MIGHT HAVE BEEN” "Yes, it's pretty hard," the optimistic old woman admitted. "I have to get along with only two teeth, one in the upper jaw and one in the lower-but thank God, they meet." ERE'S to "The days that might have been"; The fame I might have gathered in- O "Land of Might Have Been," we turn And laurel crowns the guarding gate; The sightless skulls that knew their woe→ "Of all sad words of tongue or pen❞— This thought brings to me with its curse, "It might have been a blamed sight worse." Grantland Rice. Permission of the Author. |