When Day is Done Part 15

Satisfied With Life

I have known the green trees and the skies overhead And the blossoms of spring and the fragrance they shed; I have known the blue sea, and the mountains afar And the song of the pines and the light of a star; And should I pa.s.s now, I could say with a smile That my pilgrimage here has been well worth my while.

I have known the warm handclasp of friends who were true; I have shared in their pleasures and wept with them, too; I have heard the gay laughter which sweeps away care And none of the comrades I've made could I spare; And should this be all, I could say ere I go, That life is worth while just such friends.h.i.+ps to know.

I have builded a home where we've loved and been glad; I have known the rich joy of a girl and a lad; I have had their caresses through storm and through s.h.i.+ne, And watched them grow lovely, those youngsters of mine; And I think as I hold them at night on my knee, That life has been generous surely to me.

Autumn Evenings

Apples on the table an' the grate-fire blazin' high, Oh, I'm sure the whole world hasn't any happier man than I; The Mother sittin' mendin' little stockin's, toe an' knee, An' tellin' all that's happened through the busy day to me: Oh, I don't know how to say it, but these cosy autumn nights Seem to glow with true contentment an' a thousand real delights.

The dog sprawled out before me knows that huntin' days are here, 'Cause he dreams and seems to whimper that a flock o' quail are near; An' the children playin' checkers till it's time to go to bed, Callin' me to settle questions whether black is beatin' red; Oh, these nights are filled with gladness, an' I puff my pipe an' smile, An' tell myself the struggle an' the work are both worth while.

The flames are full o' pictures that keep dancin' to an' fro, Bringin' back the scenes o' gladness o' the happy long ago, An' the whole wide world is silent an' I tell myself just this-- That within these walls I cherish, there is all my world there is!

Can I keep the love abiding in these hearts so close to me, An' the laughter of these evenings, I shall gain life's victory.

Memorial Day

These did not pa.s.s in selfishness; they died for all mankind; They died to build a better world for all who stay behind; And we who hold their memory dear, and bring them flowers to-day, Should consecrate ourselves once more to live and die as they.

These were defenders of the faith and guardians of the truth; That you and I might live and love, they gladly gave their youth; And we who set this day apart to honor them who sleep Should pledge ourselves to hold the faith they gave their lives to keep.

If tears are all we shed for them, then they have died in vain; If flowers are all we bring them now, forgotten they remain; If by their courage we ourselves to courage are not led, Then needlessly these graves have closed above our heroes dead.

To symbolize our love with flowers is not enough to do; We must be brave as they were brave, and true as they were true.

They died to build a better world, and we who mourn to-day Should consecrate ourselves once more to live and die as they.

The Happy Man

If you would know a happy man, Go find the fellow who Has had a bout with trouble grim And just come smiling through.

The load is off his shoulders now, Where yesterday he frowned And saw no joy in life, to-day He laughs his way around.

He's done the very thing he thought That he could never do; His sun is s.h.i.+ning high to-day And all his skies are blue.

He's stronger than he was before; Should trouble come anew He'll know how much his strength can bear And how much he can do.

To-day he has the right to smile, And he may gaily sing, For he has conquered where he feared The pain of failure's sting.

Comparison has taught him, too, The sweetest hours are those Which follow on the heels of care, With laughter and repose.

If you would meet a happy man, Go find the fellow who Has had a bout with trouble grim And just come smiling through.

The Song of the Builder

I sink my piers to the solid rock, And I send my steel to the sky, And I pile up the granite, block by block Full twenty stories high; Nor wind nor weather shall wash away The thing that I've builded, day by day.

Here's something of mine that shall ever stand Till another shall tear it down; Here is the work of my brain and hand, Towering above the town.

And the idlers gay in their smug content, Have nothing to leave for a monument.

Here from my girders I look below At the throngs which travel by, For little that's real will they leave to show When it comes their time to die.

But I, when my time of life is through, Will leave this building for men to view.

Oh, the work is hard and the days are long, But hammers are tools for men, And granite endures and steel is strong, Outliving both brush and pen.

And ages after my voice is stilled, Men shall know I lived by the things I build.

Old Years and New

Old years and new years, all blended into one, The best of what there is to be, the best of what is gone-- Let's bury all the failures in the dim and dusty past And keep the smiles of friends.h.i.+p and laughter to the last.

Old years and new years, life's in the making still; We haven't come to glory yet, but there's the hope we will; The dead old year was twelve months long, but now from it we're free, And what's one year of good or bad to all the years to be?

Old years and new years, we need them one and all To reach the dome of character and build its sheltering wall; Past failures tried the souls of us, but if their tests we stood.

The sum of what we are to be may yet be counted good.

Old years and new years, with all their pain and strife, Are but the bricks and steel and stone with which we fas.h.i.+on life; So put the sin and shame away, and keep the fine and true, And on the glory of the past let's build the better new.

When We're All Alike

I've trudged life's highway up and down; I've watched the lines of men march by; I've seen them in the busy town, And seen them under country sky; I've talked with toilers in the ranks, And walked with men whose hands were white, And learned, when closed were stores and banks, We're nearly all alike at night.