Chapter 152
The patriarch spoke in scorn.
What would he think of the Church were he shown Heathendom--huge, forlorn, G.o.dless, Christless, with soul unfed, While the Church's ailment is fullness of bread, Eating her morsel alone?
"Freely as ye have received, so give,"
He bade who hath given us all.
How shall the soul in us longer live Deaf to their starving call, For whom the blood of the Lord was shed, And his body broken to give them bread, If we eat our morsel alone?
--Archbishop Alexander.
GREATNESS
What makes a man great? Is it houses and lands?
Is it argosies dropping their wealth at his feet?
Is it mult.i.tudes shouting his name in the street?
Is it power of brain? Is it skill of hand?
Is it writing a book? Is it guiding the State?
Nay, nay, none of these can make a man great.
The crystal burns cold with its beautiful fire, And is what it is; it can never be more; The acorn, with something wrapped warm at the core, In quietness says, "To the oak I aspire."
That something in seed and in tree is the same-- What makes a man great is his greatness of aim.
What is greatness of aim? Your purpose to trim For bringing the world to obey your behest?
O no, it is seeking G.o.d's perfect and best, Making something the same both in you and in him.
Love what he loves, and, child of the sod, Already you share in the greatness of G.o.d.
--Samuel V. Cole.
A SAFE FIRM
When the other firms show dizziness Here's a house that does not share it.
Wouldn't you like to join the business?
Join the firm of Grin and Barrett?
Give your strength that does not murmur, And your nerve that does not falter, And you've joined a house that's firmer Than the old rock of Gibraltar.
They have won a good prosperity; Why not join the firm and share it?
Step, young fellow, with celerity; Join the firm of Grin and Barrett.
Grin and Barrett, Who can scare it?
Scare the firm of Grin and Barrett?
--Sam Walter Foss.
JOHN MILTON
Milton! thou shouldst be living at this hour: England hath need of thee: she is a fen Of stagnant waters: altars, sword, and pen, Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, Have forfeited their ancient English dower Of inward happiness. We are selfish men.
O! raise us up, return to us again; And give us manners, virtue, freedom, power.
Thy soul was like a Star, and dwelt apart: Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea: Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free, So didst thou travel on life's common way, In cheerful G.o.dliness; and yet thy heart The lowliest duties on herself did lay.
--William Wordsworth.
SUMMUM BONUM
For radiant health I praise not when I pray, Nor for routine of toil well-pleasing every way, Though these gifts, Lord, more priceless grow each day.
Not for congenial comrades, garnered store Of worldly wealth, nor vision that sees o'er Such sordid ma.s.s, mind's plumed eagles soar.
Not even, Lord, for love that eases stress Of storm, contention, hope's unconquerableness, Nor faith's abiding peace, nor works that bless.
But this, dear Lord, stir inner depths divine, That day by day, though slowly! line on line My will begins--begins--to merge in thine.
--Charles L. Story.
THE AIM
O Thou who lovest not alone The swift success, the instant goal, But hast a lenient eye to mark The failures of the inconstant soul,
Consider not my little worth-- The mean achievement, scamped in act-- The high resolve and low result, The dream that durst not face the fact.
But count the reach of my desire-- Let this be something in thy sight; I have not, in the slothful dark, Forgot the vision and the height.
Neither my body nor my soul To earth's low ease will yield consent.
I praise thee for the will to strive; I bless thy goad and discontent.
--Charles G. D. Roberts.
SAY SOMETHING GOOD
When over the fair fame of friend or foe The shadow of disgrace shall fall, instead Of words of blame or proof of thus and so, Let something good be said!
Forget not that no fellow-being yet May fall so low but love may lift his head; Even the cheek of shame with tears is wet, If something good be said.
No generous heart may vainly turn aside In ways of sympathy; no soul so dead But may awaken, strong and glorified, If something good be said.
And so I charge ye, by the th.o.r.n.y crown, And by the cross on which the Saviour bled, And by your own soul's hope of fair renown, Let something good be said!
--James Whitcomb Riley.
WHEN TO BE HAPPY
Why do we cling to the skirts of sorrow?
Why do we cloud with care the brow?
Why do we wait for a glad to-morrow-- Why not gladden the precious Now?
Eden is yours! Would you dwell within it?
Change men's grief to a gracious smile, And thus have heaven here this minute And not far-off in the afterwhile.