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, 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 themselves heard. HEN times are bad an' folks are sad An' gloomy day by day, Jest try your best at lookin' glad An' whistle 'em away. 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. Hold your own An' change your tone An' whistle, whistle, whistle! Printed in and permission from "The Atlanta Constitution." 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." H ERE'S to "The days that might have been"; Here's to "The life I might have led"; 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. |