Poems with Power to Strengthen the Soul. Various

advantage to be found

      In sorrowing or shirking;

      They with success are soonest crowned

      Who just go right on working.

      Strive patiently and with a will

      That shall not be defeated;

      Keep singing at your task until

      You see it stand completed.

      Nor let the clouds of doubt draw near,

      Your sky's glad sunshine murking;

      Be brave, and fill your heart with cheer,

      And just go right on working.

      —Nixon Waterman.

      ———

      JUSTICE ONLY

      Be not too proud of good deeds wrought!

      When thou art come from prayer, speak truly!

      Even if he wrongeth thee in aught,

      Respect thy Guru. Give alms duly.

      But let none wist! Live, day by day,

      With little and with little swelling

      Thy tale of duty done—the way

      The wise ant-people build their dwelling;

      Not harming any living thing;

      That thou may'st have—at time of dying—

      A Hand to hold thee, and to bring

      Thy footsteps safe; and, so relying,

      Pass to the farther world. For none

      Save Justice leads there! Father, mother,

      Will not be nigh; nor wife, nor son,

      Nor friends, nor kin; nor any other

      Save only Justice! All alone

      Each entereth here, and each one leaveth

      This life alone; and every one

      The fruit of all his deeds receiveth

      Alone—alone; bad deeds and good!

      That day when kinsmen, sadly turning,

      Forsake thee, like the clay or wood,

      A thing committed to the burning.

      But Justice shall not quit thee then,

      If thou hast served her, therefore never

      Cease serving; that shall hold thee when

      The darkness falls which falls forever,

      Which hath no star, nor way and guide.

      But Justice knows the road; and midnight

      Is noon to her. Man at her side

      Goes, through the gloom, safe to the hid light.

      And he who loved her more than all,

      Who purged by sorrow his offenses,

      Shall shine, in realms celestial,

      With glory, quit of sins and senses.

      —Edwin Arnold, from the Sanskrit.

      ———

      GOD'S VENGEANCE

      Saith the Lord, "Vengeance is mine;"

      "I will repay," saith the Lord;

      Ours be the anger divine,

      Lit by the flash of his word.

      How shall his vengeance be done?

      How, when his purpose is clear?

      Must he come down from the throne?

      Hath he no instruments here?

      Sleep not in imbecile trust,

      Waiting for God to begin;

      While, growing strong in the dust,

      Rests the bruised serpent of sin.

      Right and Wrong—both cannot live

      Death-grappled. Which shall we see?

      Strike! Only Justice can give

      Safety to all that shall be.

      Shame! to stand faltering thus,

      Tricked by the balancing odds;

      Strike! God is waiting for us!

      Strike! for the vengeance is God's!

      —John Hay.

      ———

      Bear a lily in thy hand;

      Gates of brass cannot withstand

      One touch of that magic wand.

      Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth,

      In thy heart the dew of youth,

      On thy lips the smile of truth.

      —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

      ———

      A SINGLE STITCH

      One stitch dropped as the weaver drove

      His nimble shuttle to and fro,

      In and out, beneath, above,

      Till the pattern seemed to bud and grow

      As if the fairies had helping been;

      One small stitch which could scarce be seen,

      But the one stitch dropped pulled the next stitch out,

      And a weak place grew in the fabric stout;

      And the perfect pattern was marred for aye

      By the one small stitch that was dropped that day.

      One small life in God's great plan,

      How futile it seems as the ages roll,

      Do what it may or strive how it can

      To alter the sweep of the infinite whole!

      A single stitch in an endless web,

      A drop in the ocean's flood and ebb!

      But the pattern is rent where the stitch is lost,

      Or marred where the tangled threads have crossed;

      And each life that fails of its true intent

      Mars the perfect plan that its Master meant.

      —Susan Coolidge.

      ———

      THE BLESSINGS

      An angel came from the courts of gold,

      With gifts and tidings manifold;

      With blessings many to crown the one

      Whose work of life was the noblest done.

      He came to a rich man's gilded door;

      Where a beautiful lady stood before

      His vision, fair as the saints are fair,

      With smile as sweet as the seraphs wear.

      He needed not to be told her life—

      The pure young mother, the tender wife;

      He