Did his life do the same in the past From the days of his youth?

It is easy to die. Men have died For a wish or a whim-- From bravado or pa.s.sion or pride.

Was it harder for him?

But to live: every day to live out All the truth that he dreamt, While his friends met his conduct with doubt, And the world with contempt--

Was it thus that he plodded ahead, Never turning aside?

Then we'll talk of the life that he led-- Never mind how he died.

_Ernest H. Crosby_

From "Swords and Ploughshares."

ON BEING READY

At nightfall after b.l.o.o.d.y Antietam Lee's army, outnumbered and exhausted, lay with the Potomac at its back. So serious was the situation that all the subordinate officers advised retreat. But Lee, though too maimed to attack, would not leave the field save of his own volition. "If McClellan wants a battle," he declared, "he can have it." McClellan hesitated, and through the whole of the next day kept his great army idle. The effect upon the morale of the two forces, and the two governments, can be imagined.

The man who is there with the wallop and punch The one who is trained to the minute, May well be around when the trouble begins, But you seldom will find he is in it; For they let him alone when they know he is there For any set part in the ramble, To pick out the one who is shrinking and soft And not quite attuned to the scramble.

The one who is fixed for whatever they start Is rarely expected to prove it; They pa.s.s him along for the next shot in sight Where they take a full wind-up and groove it; For who wants to pick on a bulldog or such Where a quivering poodle is handy, When he knows he can win with a kick or a brick With no further trouble to bandy?

_Grantland Rice._

From "The Sportlight."

TWO AT A FIRESIDE

I built a chimney for a comrade old, I did the service not for hope or hire-- And then I traveled on in winter's cold, Yet all the day I glowed before the fire.

_Edwin Markham._

From "The Man with the Hoe, and Other Poems."

TO-DAY

We often lose the happiness of to-day by brooding over the sorrows of yesterday or fearing the troubles of to-morrow. This is exceedingly foolish. There is always _some_ pleasure at hand; seize it, and at no time will you be without pleasure. You cannot change the past, but your spirit at this moment will in some measure shape your future. Live life, therefore, in the present tense; do not miss the joys of to-day.

Sure, this world is full of trouble-- I ain't said it ain't.

Lord! I've had enough, an' double, Reason for complaint.

Rain an' storm have come to fret me, Skies were often gray; Thorns an' brambles have beset me On the road--but, say, Ain't it fine to-day?

What's the use of always weepin', Makin' trouble last?

What's the use of always keepin'

Thinkin' of the past?

Each must have his tribulation, Water with his wine.

Life it ain't no celebration.

Trouble? I've had mine-- But to-day is fine.

It's to-day that I am livin', Not a month ago, Havin', losin', takin', givin', As time wills it so.

Yesterday a cloud of sorrow Fell across the way; It may rain again to-morrow, It may rain--but, say, Ain't it fine to-day!

_Douglas Malloch._

THE ARROW AND THE SONG

We can calculate with fair accuracy the number of miles an automobile will go in an hour. We can gauge pretty closely the amount of merchandise a given sum of money will buy. But a good deed or a kind impulse is not measurable. Their influence works in devious ways and lives on when perhaps we can see them no more.

I shout an arrow into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight.

I breathed a song into the air, It fell to earth, I knew not where; For who has sight so keen and strong, That it can follow the flight of song?

Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; And the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.

_Henry Wadsworth Longfellow._

THE INNER LIGHT

"Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just, And he but naked, though locked up in steel, Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted,"

says Shakespeare. But not only does a clear conscience give power; it also gives light. With it we could sit at the center of the earth and yet enjoy the sunshine. Without it we live in a rayless prison.