It Can Be Done Part 14

From "Verses Wise and Otherwise."

SEE IT THROUGH

An American traveler in Italy stood watching a lumberman who, as the logs floated down a swift mountain stream, jabbed his hook in an occasional one and drew it carefully aside. "Why do you pick out those few?" the traveler asked. "They all look alike." "But they are not alike, seignior. The logs I let pa.s.s have grown on the side of a mountain, where they have been protected all their lives. Their grain is coa.r.s.e; they are good only for lumber. But these logs, seignior, grew on the top of the mountain. From the time they were sprouts and saplings they were lashed and buffeted by the winds, and so they grew strong with fine grain. We save them for choice work; they are not 'lumber,'

seignior."

When you're up against a trouble, Meet it squarely, face to face; Lift your chin and set your shoulders, Plant your feet and take a brace.

When it's vain to try to dodge it, Do the best that you can do; You may fail, but you may conquer, See it through!

Black may be the clouds about you And your future may seem grim, But don't let your nerve desert you; Keep yourself in fighting trim.

If the worse is bound to happen, Spite of all that you can do, Running from it will not save you, See it through!

Even hope may seem but futile, When with troubles you're beset, But remember you are facing Just what other men have met.

You may fail, but fall still fighting; Don't give up, whate'er you do; Eyes front, head high to the finish.

See it through!

_Edgar A. Guest._

From "Just Folks."

DECEMBER 31

If January 1 is an ideal time for renewed consecration, December 31 is an ideal time for thankful reminiscence. The year has not brought us everything we might have hoped, but neither has it involved us in everything we might have feared. Many are the perils, the failures, the miseries we have escaped, and life to us is still gracious and wholesome and filled to the brim with satisfaction.

Best day of all the year, since I May see thee pa.s.s and know That if thou dost not leave me high Thou hast not found me low, And since, as I behold thee die, Thou leavest me the right to say That I to-morrow still may vie With them that keep the upward way.

Best day of all the year to me, Since I may stand and gaze Across the grayish past and see So many crooked ways That might have led to misery, Or might have ended at Disgrace-- Best day since thou dost leave me free To look the future in the face.

Best day of all days of the year, That was so kind, so good, Since thou dost leave me still the dear Old faith in brotherhood-- Best day since I, still striving here, May view the past with small regret, And, undisturbed by doubts or fear, Seeks paths that are untrod as yet.

_S.E. Kiser._

RING OUT, WILD BELLS

This great New Year's piece belongs almost as well to every day in the year, since it expresses a social ideal of justice and happiness.

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light: The year is dying in the night; Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow: The year is going, let him go; Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind, For those that here we see no more; Ring out the feud of rich and poor, Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause, And ancient forms of party strife; Ring in the n.o.bler modes of life, With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin, The faithless coldness of the times; Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes, But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood, The civic slander and the spite; Ring in the love of truth and right, Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease; Ring out the narrowing l.u.s.t of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be.

_Alfred Tennyson._

[Ill.u.s.tration: HENRY VAN d.y.k.e]

WORK

The dog that dropped his bone to snap at its reflection in the water went dinnerless. So do we often lose the substance--the joy--of our work by longing for tasks we think better fitted to our capabilities.

Let me but do my work from day to day, In field or forest, at the desk or loom, In roaring market-place or tranquil room; Let me but find it in my heart to say, When vagrant wishes beckon me astray, "This is my work; my blessing, not my doom; Of all who live, I am the one by whom This work can best be done in the right way."

Then shall I see it not too great, nor small To suit my spirit and to prove my powers; Then shall I cheerful greet the laboring hours, And cheerful turn, when the long shadows fall At eventide, to play and love and rest, Because I know for me my work is best.

_Henry Van d.y.k.e._

From "Collected Poems."

START WHERE YOU STAND