Chapter 16
No; to fear not earthly thing, That it is that makes the king; And all of us, whoe'er we be, May carve us out that royalty.
--Seneca, tr. by Leigh Hunt.
With comrade Duty, in the dark or day, To follow Truth--wherever it may lead; To hate all meanness, cowardice or greed; To look for Beauty under common clay; Our brothers' burden sharing, when they weep, But, if we fall, to bear defeat alone; To live in hearts that loved us, when we're gone Beyond the twilight (till the morning break!)--to sleep-- That is Success!
--Ernest Neal Lyon.
The common problem, yours, mine, every one's, Is, not to fancy what were fair in life Provided it could be, but, finding first What may be, then find out how to make it fair Up to our means; a very different thing.
--Robert Browning.
BETTER THAN GOLD
Better than grandeur, better than gold, Than rank and t.i.tles a thousandfold, Is a healthy body, a mind at ease, And simple pleasures that always please; A heart that can feel for another's woe, That has learned with love's deep fires to glow, With sympathy large enough to enfold All men as brothers, is better than gold.
Better than gold is a conscience clear, Though toiling for bread in a humble sphere; Doubly blest is content and health Untried by the l.u.s.ts and the cares of wealth.
Lowly living and lofty thought Adorn and enn.o.ble the poor man's cot; For mind and morals in nature's plan Are the genuine tests of the gentleman.
Better than gold is the sweet repose Of the sons of toil when labors close; Better than gold is the poor man's sleep And the balm that drops on his slumbers deep.
Bring sleeping draughts to the downy bed, Where luxury pillows its aching head; The toiler a simple opiate deems A shorter route to the land of dreams.
Better than gold is a thinking mind That in the realm of books can find A treasure surpa.s.sing Australian ore, And live with the great and good of yore; The sage's lore and the poet's lay; The glories of empires pa.s.sed away; The world's great dream will thus unfold And yield a pleasure better than gold.
Better than gold is a peaceful home, Where all
However humble the home may be, Or tried with sorrow by heaven's decree, The blessings that never were bought or sold And center there, are better than gold.
--Abram J. Ryan.
When success exalts thy lot G.o.d for thy virtue lays a plot.
--Ralph Waldo Emerson.
MAXIMUS
I hold him great who, for Love's sake, Can give with generous, earnest will; Yet he who takes for Love's sweet sake I think I hold more generous still.
I bow before the n.o.ble mind That freely some great wrong forgives; Yet n.o.bler is the one forgiven, Who bears that burden well and lives.
It may be hard to gain, and still To keep a lowly, steadfast heart; Yet he who loses has to fill A harder and a truer part.
Glorious it is to wear the crown Of a deserved and pure success; He who knows how to fail has won A crown whose l.u.s.ter is not less.
Great may he be who can command And rule with just and tender sway; Yet is Diviner wisdom taught Better by him who can obey.
Blessed are those who die for G.o.d, And earn the martyr's crown of light; Yet he who lives for G.o.d may be A greater conqueror in his sight.
--Adelaide Anne Procter.
'Tis phrase absurd to call a villain great: Who wickedly is wise, or madly brave, Is but the more a fool, the more a knave.
Who n.o.ble ends by n.o.ble means obtains, Or, failing, smiles in exile or in chains; Like good Aurelius, let him reign, or bleed Like Socrates--that man is great indeed.
One self-approving hour whole years outweighs Of stupid starers and of loud huzzas; And more true joy Marcellus exiled feels, Than Caesar with a senate at his heels.
--Alexander Pope.
Though world on world in myriad myriads roll Round us, each with different powers, And other forms of life than ours, What know we greater than the soul?
On G.o.d and G.o.dlike men we build our trust.
--Alfred Tennyson.
THE GOOD, GREAT MAN
How seldom, friend, a good, great man inherits Honor and wealth, with all his worth and pains!
It seems a story from the world of spirits When any man obtains that which he merits, Or any merits that which he obtains.
For shame, my friend; renounce this idle strain!
What would'st thou have a good, great man obtain?
Wealth, t.i.tle, dignity, a golden chain, Or heap of corses which his sword hath slain?
Goodness and greatness are not means, but ends.
Hath he not always treasurer, always friends, The great, good man? Three treasures--love, and light, And calm thoughts, equable as infants' breath; And three fast friends, more sure than day or night-- Himself, his Maker, and the angel Death.
--Samuel Taylor Coleridge.
THE POEM OF THE UNIVERSE
The poem of the universe Nor rhythm has nor rhyme; For G.o.d recites the wondrous song A stanza at a time.
Great deeds is he foredoomed to do-- With Freedom's flag unfurled-- Who hears the echo of that song As it goes down the world.
Great words he is compelled to speak Who understands the song; He rises up like fifty men, Fifty good men and strong.
A stanza for each century: Now heed it all who can!
Who hears it, he, and only he, Is the elected man.
--Charles Weldon.
When faith is lost, when honor dies, The man is dead!
--John Greenleaf Whittier.