{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_76332/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_76332","id":"gutenberg_76332","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/76332","summary":null,"tags":["American poetry -- 20th century","Category: American Literature","Category: Poetry","Category: Religion/Spirituality"],"text":"Transcriber\u2019s Note: Poems are ordered by publication year (goal is the\nearliest available at least with legible text), then alphabetically\nintrayear (ignoring \u201cA\u201d, \u201cAn\u201d, and \u201cThe\u201d). Poems appear as printed in\nsource unless changes are given in the notes. Investigation of spelling\ninvolved Google\u2019s Ngram Viewer (//books.google.com/ngrams/). Title case\nis used for all poem titles for consistent appearance. Where Mr. Flynn\nreused a title, the version is indicated by the year in the title (e.g.\ntitle v1921). Alternative text was created for illustrations. Appendix 1\nwas created for this book and is ordered alphabetically by poem title.\nAppendix 2 also was created for this book. Appendix 3 provides a way to\nmake this collection more complete. Additional new material, and the\ncompilation, are granted to the public domain. This plain text version\nof the book uses underscores (_) to denote the start and end of\nitalicized text. However, when an entire poem is italicized, a bracketed\nnote is used instead in order to retain the poem\u2019s structure.\n\n\n\n\nCOLLECTED POEMS OF CLARENCE EDWIN FLYNN\n\nFirst Edition, 1929 and Earlier\n\n\n\n\nACKNOWLEDGEMENTS\nPREFACE\nPOEMS\nAPPENDIX 1: BYLINES, BIBLIOGRAPHY, NOTES\nAPPENDIX 2: INDEX\nAPPENDIX 3: INACCESSIBLE POEMS\n\n\n\n\nACKNOWLEDGEMENTS\n\n\nI would like to thank several librarians. Geoffrey Ross (History,\nPhilosophy, and Newspaper Library at the University of Illinois\nUrbana-Champaign) scanned the necessary documents allowing \u201cThe Measure\nof Life\u201d to appear in this first edition. Terese DeSimio (Greene County\n[OH] Public Library) saved resources in the intercity transfer of an\nextract about Clarence Edward Flynn. Lauren Day (University of Michigan\nLibrary) verified the bottom of the physical publication containing\n\u201cThe Age of a Heart\u201d had been cut off. She then advised HathiTrust to\nseek a source with a complete scan of the publication.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nWhat follows is a brief introduction to Mr. Flynn, his authorship of\npoems, and how this book came about. From my research on his life,\nwhich I made available at //prabook.com/web/clarence.flynn/1084802,\nClarence Edwin Flynn (1886\u20131970) was an American Methodist Episcopal\nclergyman, writer, hymnist and lecturer. He\u2019s described as a \u201cwriter of\nstories, articles and verse appearing in periodicals and anthologies\u201d\nand is \u201crepresented in anthologies of verse. General character writing,\nreligious, educational.\u201d [1] [2] His poetry alone appeared in more than\n300 different domestic and international publications.\n\nDespite variation in bylines over his career, I believe all poems in\nthis collection belong to Clarence Edwin Flynn. Specifically, the\nvariation in middle name/initial in this first edition amounts to\nE (186), Edwin (4), none (3), and F (1). To put those numbers in a\nwider context, the variation associated with poetry published in 1930\nand later shows the following preliminary results: Edwin (415), E (98),\nEdward (15), none (3), and conflicts within the same publication (2).\n\u201cEdward\u201d appears in bylines between 1931\u20131954. There was an educator\nnamed Clarence Edward Flynn (1890\u20131956), but one description of his\nauthorship published a year before his death is very specific and does\nnot mention verse: \u201cA County Plan of Work for Elementary Schools; A\nWorkbook for Elementary and High Schools.\u201d [3] It may be that bylines\nwith \u201cEdward\u201d are due to error and name interchangeability (see\nwww.familysearch.org/en/wiki/Ireland_Naming_Customs). The benefit of\nany doubt about Clarence Edward Flynn\u2019s authorship of verse should be\ngiven to well-established poet Clarence Edwin Flynn. This brief\nanalysis is limited by A) the absence of Clarence Edwin Flynn\u2019s\npersonal papers (their status is unknown to me) and B) only rare\ninclusions of his blurb in publications to which he contributed.\n\nHow did this book come about? The gateway was an anthology of short\nstories and poetry that was partially lacking in primary sources. I\napplied my penchant for research in finding them. The search for a\nprimary source for one particular anonymous poem initially turned up\nmore secondary sources without a named author. I stuck with the search,\nand it transformed into a rabbit hole. I eventually came across a\nprimary source attributing the poem to Clarence Flynn--my introduction\nto his name. As I continued to look for the oldest primary source\navailable for that poem, I discovered more of his poetry and became a\nfan. After finding his inclusion in prominent sources like those in the\nfirst two footnotes to this preface, the questions came. Why haven\u2019t I\nheard of this person? Why doesn\u2019t he have a Wikipedia page? [As\npreviously mentioned, I went with prabook.com instead.] Why hasn\u2019t his\npoetry been collected? And so here, emerging from the rabbit hole, is\nthe inaugural collection. This first edition is limited to poetry\npublished in 1929 or earlier in accordance with a copyright rule\ngoverning works first published before 95 years ago. But with more than\n700 additional poems waiting in the wings, future editions are planned\nas increments of these poems enter the public domain on an annual basis.\n\n  [1] _Who\u2019s Who in America: A Biographical Dictionary of Notable\nLiving Men and Women_. Vol. 24, 1946\u20131947, Two Years. Chicago:\nThe A. N. Marquis Co., 1946. p. 780\n  [2] Lawrence, Alberta, ed. _Who\u2019s Who Among North American Authors_.\nVol. 5, 1931\u20131932. Los Angeles: Golden Syndicate Publishing Co., 1931.\np. 1089\n  [3] _Who\u2019s Who in the East_. Vol. 5. Chicago: The A. N. Marquis Co.,\n1955. p. 268\n\n\n\n\nPOEMS\n\n\n Si Gidders (1902)\n\n There\u2019s an old man named Si Gidders lives on Uncle Henry\u2019s place,\n   Jest a common farmer feller, that is all;\n Tall, an\u2019 lean, an\u2019 lank in figger, with an awful homely face,\n   But as much as you could estimate of gall.\n Gidders has one wretched failin\u2019, that of wonderin\u2019 at things,\n   An\u2019 it takes most all his time to humor that,\n For it\u2019s wonder, wonder, wonder till yer ear jest fairly rings,\n   With the how, an\u2019 who, an\u2019 which, an\u2019 where, an\u2019 what.\n\n He will wonder why the sun don\u2019t shine by night as well as day,\n   An\u2019 why all the leaves ain\u2019t red instid o\u2019 green;\n Why them brindled kind o\u2019 chickens air the ones that allers lay,\n   An\u2019 why Johnny Smith ain\u2019t fat instid o\u2019 lean.\n He will wonder why the sky is blue an\u2019 why it isn\u2019t brown,\n   An\u2019 why twelve o\u2019clock don\u2019t come at early morn;\n He will wonder why things don\u2019t fall up instid o\u2019 fallin\u2019 down,\n   An\u2019 why Seckel pears don\u2019t grow on stalks of corn.\n\n He will wonder why Jim Perry\u2019s hair ain\u2019t black instid o\u2019 red,\n   An\u2019 why summer don\u2019t start in at Christmas time;\n Why it is that folks can\u2019t never go to heaven till they\u2019re dead,\n   An\u2019 why three times three ain\u2019t ten instid o\u2019 nine;\n Why don\u2019t daisies bloom in winter, an\u2019 why don\u2019t we have no snow\n   When the temperature\u2019s a hundred in the shade;\n Why don\u2019t tomcats never whistle, en why does a rooster crow\n   When his mate has just informed him that she\u2019s laid.\n\n So Si Gidders\u2019 tongue is runnin\u2019 an\u2019 each new thing he may see\n   Allers sets a wonder workin\u2019 in his head,\n He will wonder what it is an\u2019 how it ever came to be,\n   An\u2019 why it ain\u2019t painted black instid o\u2019 red.\n An\u2019 I \u2019spect that when he dies an\u2019 comes to heaven\u2019s pearly gates\n   That he won\u2019t find time to step inside at all,\n For he\u2019ll want to stop an\u2019 wonder why they hain\u2019t all made of tin,\n   An\u2019 nailed up with old shoeleather to the wall.\n\n\n\n\n Hagar\u2019s Song (1906)\n\n Thou God of mercy, Thou who art\n   To Abraham a sword and shield,\n   Must I myself, an infant, yield\n Unto the desert\u2019s burning heart?\n\n Have I been so undutiful\n   That this death be my recompense,\n   That Ishmael in his innocence\n Should die so young and beautiful?\n\n Is he so worthless in Thy sight,\n   Is all that he might do and be\n   So insignificant to Thee\n Who lovest justice, truth, and right?\n\n But though I crave Thy tenderness,\n   No longer will I plead with Thee\n   Whate\u2019er Thy will so let it be.\n For even death can bring but rest.\n\n So not unto the burning sands\n   Do I commend my dearest joy,\n   My innocent, my precious boy,\n But into Thy most gracious hands.\n\n But I am like a wreck at sea;\n   My throat is parched, my heart is sore;\n   I sigh for rest, not that of yore.\n Do to me, Lord, as pleaseth Thee.\n\n\n\n\n The Cry of a Human (1906)\n\n When the cares of life are heavy and the world looks dark to me,\n   When board is high and funds are running low,\n I can look back at the faces that I used to love to see--\n The faces of the balmy long ago.\n I can wander back along the brooks I loved when but a boy,\n   When I didn\u2019t have to mend my shirts and sew\n The buttons on I busted off, ah! those were days of Joy,\n   When I lived, a careless laddie, in the happy long ago.\n\n Somehow, when my dinner\u2019s heavy, then my heart gets heavy, too.\n   And I long to see the cooky jar again.\n It isn\u2019t any wonder that the world looks black and blue,\n   When you owe at least a half dozen men.\n I am longing for the good old days when I could live care free,\n   And when I was hungry I could just tiptoe\n Into the dark old pantry, and eat all that I could see,\n   And only get my britches fanned in the happy long ago.\n\n Give me back the nice hot biscuit, give me back the fresh clean clothes,\n   Give me back the swimmin\u2019 hole and all its joys,\n Give me back the tenderness that a mother only knows\n   Makes the very life and soul of sturdy boys.\n Give me back the apple-butter, and I\u2019ll stir it till I die.\n   Give me back the places that I used to know.\n Give me back the fresh fried sausage and the yellow pumpkin pie\n   That I used to do the chores for in the happy long ago.\n\n The joy of being grown up has lost all its charm for me,\n   Since my clothes are growing threadbare down the seams,\n And my Sunday hat needs darning, and my necktie seems to be\n   Drawing near the murmur of Elysian streams.\n I am longing for the good old days, when life was new to me,\n   And the parties where I used to love to go,\n The old-time apple cuttin\u2019 and the jolly huskin\u2019 bee,\n   Where I used to swing the lassies in the happy long ago.\n\n\n\n\n Child\u2019s Prayer (1907)\n\n Now I lay me down to sleep\n   \u2019Mid the twilight\u2019s gentle gloom,\n Soothing me to slumbers deep\n   In my angel-guarded room,\n      While the stars look tenderly\n      Down upon the world and me.\n\n I pray the Lord my soul to keep\n   While the shadows hover near.\n O, may angel pinions sweep\n   Where an evil would appear,\n      Angel footsteps softly press\n      \u2019Round my bed in watchfulness.\n\n If I should die before I wake,\n   And lightly leave my snowy bed,\n And wander out, my way to take\n   Unto the side of Him who said\n      Beside the lake of Galilee:\n      \u201cForbid them not to come to me.\u201d\n\n I pray the Lord my soul to take\n   To walk with him \u2018neath clearer skies\n Where only joyful souls awake,\n   Where grander, sweeter songs arise,\n      Through all the years to come, the same\n      I humbly pray in Jesus\u2019 name.\n\n\n\n\n My Father\u2019s House (1908)\n\n Some times I see in quiet, thoughtful hours\n   Adown the winding journey of the years,\n Beyond a valley full of faded flowers\n   Whose petals still are wet with human tears,\n\n An open door that looms beside the way,\n   And many weary pilgrims entering where\n A glad face waits to welcome them alway,\n   And then I know my Father\u2019s house is there.\n\n I care not whether it be built of gold,\n   With pearly gates and shining sapphire walls,\n Or whether it be humble, low, and old,\n   With footworn thresholds and with homely halls.\n\n I only ask that when my feet have pressed\n   The journey through, and I have come alone\n Unto my Father\u2019s house, that I may rest\n   Among the loved and lost, and feel at home.\n\n\n\n\n Hope (1909)\n\n When every flower has shed its bloom\n   Afar upon life\u2019s changing ground,\n And in the chilling autumn gloom\n   Their leaves are drifted all around.\n     One blossom still will lift its eyes\n     Unto the changeless summer skies.\n\n When life\u2019s poor lyre has ceased to play,\n   When faith and love no longer sing,\n Still through the shades of closing day\n   Will tremble one unbroken string\n     To make life\u2019s music still ascend\n     In harmony unto the end.\n\n Oh, flower of hope with deathless hue,\n   Oh, song of hope, unsilenced still,\n Beyond the vast, eternal blue\n   Ye shine and echo on until\n     The journey\u2019s ended and the way\n     Leads into God\u2019s eternal day.\n\n\n\n\n The King (1909)\n\n              When the King came\n He was so like His own, they knew Him not;\n And cast in ways of poverty His lot.\n There was no blazoned heraldry of fame\n              When the King came.\n\n              When the King died\n Not many wept. The memory of His years\n Did not bring many blossoms dewed with tears\n Unto the new tomb in the mountainside,\n              When the King died.\n\n              When the King rose\n \u2019Twas not to go to some far distant land,\n Nor yet to dwell within a palace grand,\n \u2019Twas to the palace of the hearts of men\n              He rose again.\n\n\n\n\n Battle Hymn (1914)\n\n The world has seen from age to age\n   Two marshaled hosts upon the plain\n Each other in a war engage,\n   And strew the years with heroes slain;\n     And though they seem at times to fail,\n     The hosts of God shall still prevail.\n\n Between the hosts of right and wrong\n   The conflict long has raged afield.\n It still must rage, however long,\n   Till one shall see the other yield.\n     But, though a countless horde assail,\n     The hosts of God shall still prevail.\n\n The days of blood are in the past,\n   And gone the conflict of the sword.\n Unseen the lines of war are cast\n   Against the armies of the Lord.\n     But, though their words be fiery hail,\n     The hosts of God shall still prevail.\n\n By night and day the conflict goes,\n   Unheard, unseen, but great and real;\n And back and forth God\u2019s friends and foes\n   Contend for this world\u2019s woe or weal.\n     Fear not their weapons nor their mail,\n     For we shall see God\u2019s hosts prevail.\n\n Hearts, lose not courage. Brains, take fire,\n   And grow not listless in the fight.\n The arms of God shall never tire,\n   And nothing can withstand His might.\n     What though at times our banners trail\n     In dust, our God shall still prevail.\n\n The world shall know the ways of God.\n   The nations all shall walk in peace.\n Wherever human foot has trod,\n   The sway of selfishness shall cease.\n     No more shall horse and rider pale\n     Go forth, when God\u2019s hosts shall prevail.\n\n Beneath serene and peaceful skies,\n   And from an earth without a stain,\n Redemption\u2019s anthem shall arise\n   Throughout the years, for God shall reign.\n     His cause shall not forever fail,\n     For, soon or late, He shall prevail.\n\n\n\n\n Song of the Dove (1914)\n\n O DOVE, whom do you woo\n With your soft and gentle coo\n In the freshness of the morning \u2019mid the sunlight and the dew?\n When the first Spring flow\u2019rs are fair\n And your voice floats everywhere\n On the bosom of the palpitating air?\n\n O dove, how glad the note\n That echoes from your throat\n When the lazy clouds like castles of the sunny islands float\n In the azure Summer sky,\n Ah, let your joy run high,\n For the dreary Winter\u2019s coming by and by.\n\n O dove, how sad the tone\n As you sit and grieve alone\n In the gathering of the twilight, in your sad, sweet monotone,\n With the Autumn hillsides gray\n Stretching far--so far away,\n But the joys of Spring and Summer gone for aye.\n\n\n\n\n The Gateway of the Kingdom (1915)\n\n THE gateway of the Kingdom\n   It bendeth very low,\n Within the reach of every place\n   Where common people go.\n \u2019Tis grand, but grandly simple.\n   \u2019Tis great, yet very small,\n Though wide enough that ever\n   There\u2019s passage-way for all.\n\n The gateway of the Kingdom\n   Is not of common gold.\n Its pearl is far more precious\n   Than earthly realm can hold.\n It has no rusty hinges.\n   No marble steps are piled.\n The gateway of the Kingdom\n   Is the spirit of a child.\n\n\n\n\n Magi and Shepherd (1915)\n\n There\u2019s a Babe within the manger. Humble men are on the hills.\n Where the sheep are safely folded, there the silver moonlight spills.\n There\u2019s a rift across the heavens. There\u2019s a light along the sky.\n There\u2019s a glory in the valley. There\u2019s an angel song on high.\n There\u2019s a Babe within the manger. On the hills are humble men.\n \u201cPeace on earth,\u201d rings forth the chorus, and their hearts respond, \u201cAmen!\u201d\n\n There\u2019s a Babe within the manger. There\u2019s a star that shines above.\n \u2019Tis a star of age-long promise. \u2019Tis the morning star of love.\n There are wise men. They are kneeling. They have brought their tribute there--\n Gold, and frankincense, and myrrh. Behold the majesty they wear.\n There are wise men. They are kneeling. Wisdom comes upon its knees.\n In its simple recognition of the birth and reign of peace.\n\n Humble men are on the hillsides, men of wisdom in the stall\n Where the new-born King of Glory deigns to find His earthly all.\n High and low have met together. There before a common shrine\n Rich and poor, unlearned and lettered, each has found the King Divine.\n Christ is Lord of humble peasant. He is Lord of royal son.\n At His feet all men are equal. In His way all men are one.\n\n\n\n\n The Open Tomb (1915)\n\n           A thousand gates\n Lead to the grave; and through the weary years\n The race of men, through bitter, blinding tears,\n Have seen the forms they loved most enter there\n           Where ever waits\n An open road on which all feet must fare.\n\n           One only gate\n Leads from the grave; one portal outward swings.\n \u2019Tis one alike for peasants and for kings.\n Beside it lies a stone that\u2019s rolled away;\n           And, soon or late,\n God\u2019s people shall fare forth into the day.\n\n           O, Mighty One,\n We praise thee that when we have finished all\n The day\u2019s full hours will hold, and night shall fall\n That we may see, although we die upon\n           A bed of stone,\n One door that opens outward on the dawn.\n\n\n\n\n A Price Unpaid (1915)\n\n Upon one battlefield is writ in blood\n   The story of more woe than all the years\n Can wash away, e\u2019en with the cleansing flood\n   Of centuries of peace. Blind, sickening tears\n Are caused to flow that never mailed hand\n   Will seek to dry. There glassy grows the eye\n Of him who looked with joy upon the land,\n   Rich now with death\u2019s ripe harvest. One weak sigh,\n Then fades the sky, the fields, and all--and then\n   The awful silence which alone will say\n To those at home, he died, but how or when\n   Remains a secret of the bloody day.\n What logic is there that can justify\n   The wasting harvest field, the empty home,\n The blank despair that comes at last to lie\n   On faces left to fare their way alone,\n Widowed and orphaned--and for naught but this--\n   To keep a royal throne from tottering down,\n To hold a mile of boundary where it is,\n   To save a scepter, or preserve a crown?\n\n\n\n\n Two Princes (1915)\n\n The War Lord dwells within his palace walls\n   In all the bright insignia of power;\n He gives the word by which a city falls,\n   Or ships go thundering through Death\u2019s awful hour.\n     The Prince of Peace knew not an earthly throne,\n     Had not one resting place to call his own.\n\n The War Lord in the pomp of place doth ride\n   Across the borders of the blood-drenched land.\n On splendid charger, strong and fiery-eyed\n   In every place he keeps a presence grand.\n     The Prince of Peace knew but a humble seat\n     And walked the earth with weary, dusty feet.\n\n The War Lord hears the plaudits of the crowd.\n   Unnumbered men would perish for his name.\n To keep his royal robes they wear a shroud,\n   And bleed to save him from an hour of shame.\n     The Prince of Peace with thorns upon his head,\n     Unfriended, through the hard-eyed crowd was led.\n\n The while the War Lord speaks the myriad waits,\n   And at his word it cannot choose but die.\n His armored hand is laid upon the gates\n   Of life and death. What matter reasons why?\n     In one dark hour of loving agony\n     The Prince of Peace expired upon a tree.\n\n\n\n\n The Voices of God (1915)\n\n A THOUSAND voices speak of God.\n The gayest flower, the meanest clod,\n The highest hill, the deepest sea\n Proclaim his messages to me.\n I read his story in the Book.\n I hear it in the babbling brook;\n \u2019Tis written all across the sky,\n And in the silent majesty\n Of mountains, lifting from the land.\n A note of his undying word\n Is in the song of every bird,\n And but to-day my Saviour smiled\n From out the features of a child.\n\n\n\n\n The Wealth of Cheer (1915)\n\n What\u2019s the use of weeping\n   When the day goes wrong?\n Better to be keeping\n   Pace with mirth and song.\n December is December,\n   But May is always May,\n And shine and shade, remember,\n   Will each come in its day.\n\n Gloom\u2019s an old, old story,\n   As ancient as the earth.\n And men with heads now hoary\n   Have measured out its worth.\n They speak with one opinion\n   That, not in gloom and mists,\n But in sunshine\u2019s dominion\n   The wealth of men consists.\n\n\n\n\n True Values (1916)\n\n One day an angel came and asked a king,\n   Sated with power, with love of pomp and gold,\n Four things that God must dearly love, to bring\n   And set them in his presence, so \u2019tis told.\n The king went forth and came again ere night,\n   And set before the angel in that hour\n A jewelled crown, a scepter gleaming bright,\n   A battle weapon, and a throne of power.\n\n The angel\u2019s face grew shaded as he gazed\n   Upon the king\u2019s poor playthings gathered there.\n At last again his countenance was raised.\n   He said: \u201cThese are the trappings pride may wear,\n But God\u2019s great kingdom knows a richer worth:\n   A truer value is its high concern.\u201d\n \u201cGo\u201d, pled the king, \u201cand from the mighty earth\n   Bring me those things. I wait for thy return.\u201d\n\n \u201cNay, come with me\u201d, the angel said, \u201cand I,\n   Though I may lead a long and weary way,\n Will show you what is best beneath the sky.\u201d\n   These are the things he showed the king that day:\n A kindly life that served unselfishly,\n   A flower that grew in sweetness undefiled,\n A fireside where were love and purity,\n   The unspoiled spirit of a little child.\n\n\n\n\n Pictures (1918)\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n The days are pictures, and they pass\n As comes and goes some mirage sheen,\n As fireflies in the tangled grass,\n Or shadows thrown upon the screen.\n\n Pictures they are of love and care;\n Pictures of toil and happiness;\n Of mighty men, of ladies fair--\n Incarnate strength and gentleness;\n\n Pictures of battle and the night\n That touches woe with cooling breath;\n Of calm years following the fight,\n When blossoms deck the fields of death;\n\n Pictures of paths that wind, and meet\n Where Fate\u2019s decrees have willed it so,\n Or where erstwhile companion feet\n Are led in separate ways to go.\n\n The days are pictures, and they run\n Their hastening course of smiles and tears.\n As shadows flit \u2019twixt sun and sun,\n So pass the ever-dying years.\n\n\n\n\n When the Curtain Falls (1918)\n\n When the end is reached, and the curtain falls,\n And the echoes die from the voiceless walls,\n This is the thing that alone will tell:\n The actor\u2019s part--has he played it well?\n\n A few swift scenes and the course is run;\n A few brief facts and the play is done.\n May it be well when the far voice calls,\n And the lights go out, and the curtain falls.\n\n\n\n\n The World\u2019s Drama (1918)\n\n The world\u2019s a screen. Across it flit the shadows\n   Of all the multitudes that come and go.\n They move in dusty lanes, o\u2019er sunny meadows,\n   And where the hand of toil moves to and fro.\n\n There is the mourner and the long procession;\n   There is the maid with joy of which to sing;\n There is the warrior, with his blood-possession;\n   There is the shade of some forgotten king.\n\n Soon is each gone. Soon yonder in the distance\n   Each comes amid the mists to disappear,\n Where dying light falls on his face or glistens\n   For one brief moment on his helm or spear.\n\n Yet as each goes another is approaching.\n   A multitude is shadowed on ahead;\n So moves the line, forevermore encroaching\n   Upon the borders of the silent dead.\n\n Thus goes the drama, each his fond part playing,\n   For what he plays to him is all in all--\n Striving, pursuing, loving, toiling, praying,\n   Until the darkness overshadows all.\n\n\n\n\n Jim (1919)\n\n A chicken-hearted boy was Jim,\n   A lad with a gentle face and eye.\n The boys all joined in a laugh at him\n   Whenever he chanced to be passing by.\n He wouldn\u2019t set foot on a helpless thing.\n   For a crawling worm he\u2019d turn aside.\n He was always making a splint or sling\n   For some wounded creature that else had died.\n\n Well, Jim grew up, and the war came on.\n   Justice and right in the dust lay low.\n One day they noticed that Jim was gone,\n   And wondered if he could face the foe.\n It was said that no braver soldier fought\n   In all the marshaled ranks than Jim;\n From many battles he finally brought\n   The name of a hero home with him.\n\n We looked to see a steely eye\n   And a hardened face from his soldier ways,\n But the same old lad came marching by\n   With the gentle eyes of his boyhood days.\n He had heard the voices of battle ring;\n   He had faced the peril from death\u2019s grim shore;\n But to-day he treads on no helpless thing,\n   Though they call him chicken-heart no more.\n\n[Two illustrations cover the time span of the poem. The first\nillustration\u2019s foreground has a boy facing the viewer, walking along a\nneighborhood street, and approaching a small, sitting dog whose back\nfaces the viewer. The street bends right and into the background past\nhomes and a few neighbors looking in the boy\u2019s direction. A church\nsteeple is prominent above the homes and trees. The second illustration\nhas the same viewpoint of the neighborhood. People line the side of the\nstreet, their backs to the viewer, as a troop formation carrying an\nAmerican flag parades towards the viewer.]\n\n\n\n\n Let Us Be Right (1919)\n\n Let us be right, though all the world may follow\n   The broken fabric of some failing dream.\n As sounds upon our ears its outcry hollow,\n   And men lose all for some deceiving scheme,\n Let us forsake the gold and tinsel masking,\n   And live for things enduring and secure.\n Whate\u2019er the prize the idle crowd is asking,\n   Let us be right. The path of truth is sure.\n\n Let us be right, whatever seem our losing,\n   Some day the tide will turn, and men will know\n The thing abiding. Then the common choosing\n   Will be the substance, not the empty show.\n Let us be right. When self\u2019s poor plans are shattered\n   And all the castles lifted mountain high\n By evil hand, are broken down and shattered,\n   The right shall stand beneath the mighty sky.\n\n\n\n\n Light and Shadow (1919)\n\n A BIT of sunshine and a bit of shadow,\n And each succeeds the other on the screen.\n They chase each other over hill and meadow,\n Alternate triumph through each act and scene.\n The smile and tear has each in turn its season,\n The right and wrong their coronation day,\n And foolishness contends for place with reason\n --such is a play.\n\n A bit of gladness and a bit of sighing,\n A warm sun\u2019s beaming and the cloudland\u2019s chill\n Each comes and goes the while the day is dying\n From western hill to farther western hill.\n So runs the tale as passing years grow hoary;\n So will it be forever and for aye.\n A bit of sorrow and a touch of glory\n --such is a day.\n\n\n\n\n The New Day (1919)\n\n Put up your guns, ye nations, and lay your swords away.\n Forget the roar of battle ye heard but yesterday.\n Forget the vanished era of autocrats and kings\n And turn to face a future of better, finer things.\n\n We strung our rows of crosses on Flanders\u2019 flow\u2019ry plains.\n We touched the fields of Europe with our hearts\u2019 reddest stains.\n We walked the shadowed valley: we felt its deadly chill.\n Some lingered on its bosom with voice forever still.\n\n Among the wreck of empires, the dreams of yesterday.\n Built on self\u2019s foundations (the dreamers: where are they?).\n We face a dawning future upon a shattered earth.\n \u2019Twill be as we shall make it--a thing of threat or worth.\n\n O ye returning manhood, baptized in battle flame,\n Ye who have fought for honor and saved the world from shame,\n Ye who have stood for justice beyond the mighty seas,\n Come to the task awaiting on battlefields of peace.\n\n Put up your guns, ye nations, and lay your swords away.\n \u2019Twas yours to live beholding the world\u2019s redemption day.\n Let now the earth, forgetting its reign of strife and blood,\n Welcome the dawning era--the day of brotherhood.\n\n[Poem is on cover page with the following additional text: The Sunday\nSchool Journal, March 1919, Volume Fifty-One, Number Three. The poem\noverlays an illustration of the Statue of Liberty.]\n\n\n\n\n The New Year (1919)\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n Each New Year day Time cuts the thread\n That binds us to the vanished past.\n Its tears, and cares, and pangs are fled.\n Its woes are gone, its troubles dead,\n And we are free at last.\n\n It is the road ahead we scan\n Whene\u2019er the year is new.\n Again we gird our hearts, and plan\n For better days. We hope again\n In things secure and true.\n\n Thanks for the hand that steals away\n The cares of moments sped.\n Thanks for the years we leave today,\n But more for all that seems to say:\n \u201c\u2019Tis better on ahead.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n God\u2019s Garden (1920)\n\n There blooms a lovely garden\n   Beneath the smile of God,\n Where fairest flow\u2019rs are nodding\n   Above the smoothest sod.\n From it has come the harvest\n   Of everlasting worth,\n Enriching yonder heaven,\n   As well as hither earth.\n\n Kind friendships are the breezes\n   That come with soothing breath;\n Love is the life stream, springing\n   Where else had been but death;\n A teacher is its gard\u2019ner;\n   Its sunlight is the truth;\n And in its soil doth blossom\n   The flower of lovely youth.\n\n[Poem is framed by illustrated flowers. Outside the frame--from\nmiddle-left to middle-top--is an illustration of two young, smiling\ngirls standing in the midst of flowers. The older girl is cradling\nseveral picked flowers in one arm while her other are is extended and\nselecting another.]\n\n\n\n\n The Open Soul (1920)\n\n                  There is a way\n That leads to some rich joy in every day,\n To where through immemorial ages gone\n Calm Peace has sat upon her regal throne.\n There is a road to joy\u2019s supremest goal,\n                  But pilgrims say\n It is discerned but by the open soul.\n\n                  There is a song\n That has the power to scatter courage strong\n Through all the moments of the busy day,\n And blunt the thorns along the weary way.\n Its music always lessens sorrow\u2019s toll,\n                  Though suffered long.\n It is no secret to the open soul.\n\n                  There is a gleam\n That lights with loveliness the hill and stream,\n Blesses the days with hours supremely rare,\n And threads a line of gladness through each care.\n Before it all the shadows swiftly roll\n                  From fettered beam.\n It breaks like morning on the open soul.\n\n\n\n\n The Outcome (1920)\n\n Life\u2019s always at its best upon the screen.\n   It is not perfect. Life is never so.\n There runs a struggle thru each shifting scene,\n   And shadows often come, their pall to throw\n Across the landscape. Things go wrong a while.\n   But always comes at last the shine\u2019s glow,\n And gloom is followed by the song and smile.\n\n In every drama wrong must have its reign,\n   In every tale the villain has his day;\n Gladness we see, contrasting it with pain,\n   And truth is valued but by error\u2019s sway.\n The right and wrong are alternate in power,\n   The scene is now in sun, now shadow cast,\n But tho the wrong may triumph for an hour,\n   The right is seated on the throne at last.\n\n\n\n\n The Silent Drama (1920)\n\n Out of the silence often comes\n   A voice that breaks the stillness deep,\n And with an eloquence unheard\n   Calls hidden mem\u2019ries from their sleep.\n It carries power unknown to speech;\n   It speaks directly to the heart,\n Grown thoughtful in the silences.\n   Such is the screen\u2019s appealing art.\n\n It calls the strong to lost resolve.\n   It thrills the weak to better things,\n It touches sleeping hopes to life\n   And in the songless heart it sings.\n It opens scenes of loveliness\n   For eyes long used to barren spot,\n This sacred silence that is heard\n   Where thought is all and voice is not.\n\n\n\n\n A Trouble Making World (1920)\n\n There\u2019s a word that keeps us from the best of things,\n Making some men peasants, making others kings,\n Making all to sorrow, forcing some to die,\n For uncounted sorrows the one reason why.\n\n There\u2019s a word begetting bitterness and strife,\n Evermore beclouding all the sky of life,\n Driving men to battle when they ought to be\n Linked in soul together by fraternity.\n\n There\u2019s a word that enters in the holy place,\n Writes its tale of trouble on the fairest face;\n Makes of life a struggle, fraught with grasping greed,\n When its years were given for high thought and deed.\n\n There\u2019s a word that robs us of the happy song;\n Makes the earth a treadmill, elevates the strong;\n Drives the weak from justice; grinds the poor and worn;\n Fills the years with hatred; seeds the world with scorn.\n\n There\u2019s a word absorbing manhood\u2019s fruitful hour,\n Careless of life\u2019s meaning, prodigal of power,\n Making regal spirits satisfied with pelf,\n It is short but powerful, and its name is self.\n\n\n\n\n The Builders (1921)\n\n Each stone that goes into the wall\n   And lifts it higher from the clay\n Is but a life that heeds the call\n   To serve its God from day to day.\n No hammers on their anvils beat,\n   Yet in some wondrous time to be\n The finished work will stand complete--\n   The temple of humanity.\n\n The patient builders--who are they,\n   Whose hands have toiled and oft alone,\n Through many a hard, discouraged day\n   To set e\u2019er night another stone?\n They are the teachers who have brought\n   The word of righteousness and truth,\n The great ideal, the noble thought,\n   And dropped them in the heart of youth.\n\n[Poem is on cover page with the following additional text: The Sunday\nSchool Journal, August 1921. Cover has an illustration of a path, lined\nby bushes and trees, leading to a large church. The view of the church\nis partially obscured by the trees, but its steeple rises above them.\nThe sky is dominated by tall, white, billowing clouds.]\n\n\n\n\n The Children v1921\n\n WHEN two gray-haired old parents meet\n In quiet home or busy street,\n The talk will run in formal style\n On formal things a little while.\n Then, following a silent spell:\n \u201cThe children, are they doing well?\u201d\n\n Then faded eyes grow quickly bright.\n Worn features take a sudden light,\n As they recount with pride and joy\n The story of each girl and boy.\n How these old parents love to tell\n That every child is doing well!\n\n The great All-Father up above,\n I often think, in words of love\n Recounts each vict\u2019ry and success,\n Joys in His children\u2019s happiness.\n I think He, too, delights to tell\n That all His own are doing well.\n\n\n\n\n Climaxes v1921\n\n One climax comes in every play,\n   And only one;\n And after it has had its day\n   The struggle\u2019s won.\n Untangled is each vagrant thread;\n Sad hearts to happiness are led;\n And, with the days all fair ahead,\n   The play is done.\n\n One climax comes in every life,\n   And only one--\n The apex of our human strife,\n   The race we run.\n Then woes are banished; tears are dried;\n Our answered questions put aside;\n Life\u2019s dearest hope is satisfied;\n   Then life is done.\n\n\n\n\n Home v1921\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n The joy that some hearts treasure, the hope that others prize;\n The wistful wish that, buried deep, sometimes in others lies;\n A word so dear that men will die with gladness for its sake;\n The forge at which are welded strong the ties that naught can break;\n\n A garden in the wildest waste of this world\u2019s desert life;\n A spot where dwell both peace and calm amid the fiercest strife;\n A refuge from each storm that beats; the place in all the land\n Where there are souls who sympathize and hearts that understand;\n\n The rock whereon the anchors hold that keep us safe and fast\n When else would perish all we are and have amid the blast;\n The shrine before whose holy light does fondest worship come;\n The choicest ideal of the heart--its sacred name is HOME.\n\n\n\n\n The Magic Gateway (1921)\n\n I turned the cover of a book,\n   And found it was a gate\n Into a field where one might look,\n   Unwearied, soon and late.\n The dreams of every land and sea\n   Were all about me there.\n Kind spirits came and talked with me,\n   And flowers bloomed everywhere.\n\n I saw the years that long had sped,\n   The wondrous scenes of yore.\n The mighty past gave up its dead,\n   They lived and spoke once more.\n The greatest minds that ever thought,\n   And hearts that ever beat,\n Came, and their richest treasures brought\n   To lay them at my feet.\n\n\n\n\n Shadows v1921\n\n We are moving shadows cast\n   On the world\u2019s great picture screen;\n Shadows in a drama vast,\n   Filled with varied act and scene.\n\n Shadows flitting in the sun\n   Like the bees among the flowers;\n Shadows hast\u2019ning one by one\n   Down the course of passing hours.\n\n Shadows in the sunny space;\n   Shadows on the tangled grass;\n Shadows on the river\u2019s face;\n   Shadows in the winds that pass.\n\n Shadows playing in the lane;\n   Shadows fighting battles brave;\n Shadows walking ways of pain;\n   Shadows falling in the grave.\n\n Shadows moving in the grove,\n   Falling on the summer lawn.\n On and off the screen they move,\n   But the play goes ever on.\n\n\n\n\n The Sunbeam and the Shadow (1921)\n\n The sunbeam and the shadow\n   Are met upon the screen.\n Each mingles in the making\n   Of yonder lovely scene.\n If all were only shadow,\n   A leaden cloud would pall.\n If it were only sunshine,\n   \u2019Twould be no scene at all.\n\n In life are intermingled\n   The sunshine and the rain.\n In each day strangely blended\n   Are happiness and pain.\n Where\u2019er is told life\u2019s story,\n   However grave or fair,\n The sunshine and the shadow\n   Succeed each other there.\n\n\n\n\n The Teacher v1921\n\n WHO shapes a mind doth shape the years\n That are to be, the joys and tears\n Of those unborn. He lays his hand\n Upon the future of the land\n And turns by thought\u2019s resistless force\n The stream of hist\u2019ry in its course.\n\n Who shapes a life, its hopes, its worth,\n Doth shape the future of the earth.\n His is a sculptor hand, to mold\n The periods as they unfold.\n His hand is laid upon the rod\n That speeds the purposes of God.\n\n\n\n\n After-Images (1922)\n\n The lights go low, the organ swells,\n   And pours its rhythm everywhere--\n Now thunder, now the ring of bells,\n   Sounding at twilight o\u2019er the dells,\n Now but a whisper in the air.\n   The whisper and the thunder loud\n Are both reflected on the crowd.\n\n The pictures come, and pass away,\n   As morn departs or evening stills.\n Ambition fights its fevered fray.\n   The wrong and right have each their day.\n Love walks with love upon the hills\n   Life\u2019s long procession there appears.\n And hurries onward thru the years.\n\n The music dies. The crowds depart.\n   Each goes his way, pursues his aim;\n But something in the thing of art\n   Has left a mark upon his heart.\n Somehow the world is not the same.\n   The music and the scenes so fair\n Have left their after-imagine there.\n\n\n\n\n Almost (1922)\n\n The fish we almost captured,\n   The race we almost won,\n The task we almost finished\n   Before the day was done.\n The plan almost accomplished,\n   The dream almost come true--\n These bring but little comfort\n   Or help to me and you.\n\n Near heroes win no laurels;\n   Near victories are cheap;\n And near achievements bring us\n   No crowns we care to keep.\n To come but near is failure.\n   A miss is like a mile.\n The word \u201calmost\u201d can rob us\n   Of all that is worth while.\n\n\n\n\n Along the Road (1922)\n\n The folks we meet along the road,\n   They are a varied throng--\n A pilgrim struggling with his load;\n   The singer of the song;\n A youth with bright, expectant gaze,\n   His face with hope alight;\n An old man bowed with many days,\n   And stumbling toward the night.\n\n The rich, the poor, the high, the low;\n   The faithless and the true;\n The face of joy, the form of woe,\n   All pass in grand review\n We meet, and see their forms no more;\n   But when the eve is gray\n The sweetest thought we ponder o\u2019er\n   Is whom we\u2019ve helped today.\n\n\n\n\n Compensation (1922)\n\n For everything that happens wrong\n   A dozen things go right.\n For every tear a flood of song\n   Rings out across the night.\n For every dark and stormy day\n   A week of days are fair.\n However chill the clouds and gray,\n   \u2019Tis always bright somewhere.\n\n For every heart of bitterness\n   A host of hearts are light.\n For every hour of deep distress\n   A whole long day is bright.\n For every faithless friend we find\n   That many friends are true.\n So, after all, God\u2019s mighty kind\n   To such as me and you.\n\n\n\n\n A Creed (1922)\n\n I DO believe\n That, while in this old world few things are sure,\n Right, truth, and love forevermore endure;\n That these are \u2019mongst the things most worth our while\n --A song, a smile,\n The wiping of a tear from eyes that grieve.\n\n I do believe\n That in the day of famine or of feast\n That one is richest who has sought the least;\n That, spite of all earth\u2019s woes, and tears, and pains,\n Love is, and reigns;\n And sunshine through the ages Time doth weave.\n\n I do believe\n God plants some seeds of gladness in each day,\n And smiles on children happy at their play;\n That living men, though paupers, churls, or slaves,\n Are more than graves\n To which the grass and mosses damply cleave.\n\n\n\n\n The Engineer (1922)\n\n I MUST not be a minute late,\n Nor yet too hasty be.\n I have a load of human freight\n Depending upon me.\n I know that loving eyes tonight\n Are all along the line,\n Waiting to see them each alight--\n These passengers of mine.\n\n When at the finish of my run\n I reach the hour of rest\n I want to think on what I\u2019ve done,\n And know it was my best.\n Of hearts that never felt a fear\n I want to dream tonight,\n Hearts that were sure the engineer\n Would bring them through all right.\n\n[Illustration of a head crowned with a wreath made from a plant. The\nperson is facing the viewer. A tree (perhaps the source for the wreath)\nis shown next to the head.]\n\n\n\n\n The Flag at Sea (1922)\n\n Have you ever felt a craving\n   On the vastness of the sea,\n To behold the silken waving\n   Of the banner of the free?\n Have you searched with tired precision,\n   Far from where the land unbars,\n For a passing moment\u2019s vision\n   Of the flag of stripes and stars?\n\n Does it thrill you to remember\n   When it stood against the sky,\n How your heart was like an ember\n   And a tear was in your eye?\n How the old flag thrilled your spirit,\n   How it made you feel at home,\n When your ship that day sailed near it\n   On the wideness of the foam?\n\n\n\n\n The Gift of the Farm (1922)\n\n We thank you, old farm, forever\n For the gift you have freely made\n To the world and its hard endeavor,\n Of the boys and the girls who played\n On your beautiful hills and meadows,\n Who digged in your kindly soil\n And who learned in your sun and shadows\n The lesson of honest toil.\n\n We thank you for hands so ready\n Their manifold tasks to do,\n For minds that are keen and steady,\n For hearts that are strong and true,\n For people of lowly station,\n For those who have won renown,\n For the best who have served the nation\n In the country and the town.\n\n\n\n\n The Gifts of the Church (1922)\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n The dearest friends that life has known\n In any time or place\n Were made before the wondrous throne\n Of mercy and of grace.\n The bonds of brotherhood were wrought\n In high communion there\n Where we have walked with God in thought,\n And bowed in common prayer.\n\n The sweetest mem\u2019ries of the years,\n The joys most keen and true,\n The kindest words that blessed our ears\n The sanctuary knew.\n The highest peaks our hearts have scaled,\n The fairest roads we trod,\n The hours by which all others paled\n Were in the house of God.\n\n\n\n\n God of To-Day (1922)\n\n OUR THANKS are thine,\n O Mighty One, that thou has safely led\n Our fathers through the grim and trying past\n And made a way for us in days now dead.\n Our gratitude before thy throne we cast,\n That hands divine\n Have kept our feet and ordered all our ways,\n God of the yesterdays.\n\n We thank thee, too,\n For that blest hope we treasure fond and deep--\n The hope our worn hearts lean so heavy on--\n That somewhere in time\u2019s mighty onward sweep\n The day of God and righteousness shall dawn\n Serene and true.\n For all of this we bring our thanks to thee,\n God of the years to be.\n\n But most of all\n We thank thee for the golden fruitfulness\n Of fields now rich with grain or bright with flowers,\n For grace and pardon, joy and blessedness,\n And every good that even now is ours.\n And so we call\n In confidence that thou dost bless our way,\n God of this present day.\n\n\n\n\n The Heart of a Child Is a Scroll (1922)\n\n THE HEART of a child is a scroll,\n   A page that is lovely and white;\n And to it, as fleeting years roll,\n   Come hands with a story to write--\n A story of laughter and mirth,\n   A story of sorrow and tears,\n Of love that encircles the earth,\n   Or sin that embitters the years.\n\n Be ever so careful, O hand;\n   Write thou with a sanctified pen.\n Thy story shall live in the land\n   For years in the doings of men.\n It shall echo in circles of light,\n   Or lead to the death of a soul.\n Grave here but a message of right,\n   For the heart of a child is a scroll.\n\n[Illustration of a mother looking at an infant cradled in her arms.\nBackdrop is an unrolled scroll, feather pen, and inkwell. Infant\u2019s\nshadow is cast onto the blank scroll.]\n\n\n\n\n His Epitaph (1922)\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n HE wasn\u2019t rich; he wasn\u2019t great,\n   His place was lowly and obscure.\n His clothing was not up-to-date,\n   His house was tumble-down and poor.\n No honor did he claim.\n   He never walked with lords and kings.\n No glory has illumed his name,\n   But he was kind to helpless things.\n\n He won no victories to boast.\n   He made no conquests, waged no strife.\n He never led a conquering host;\n   He lived an unpretentious life.\n But, when is writ the judgment scroll,\n   And Time its final verdict brings,\n This will be said of him: his soul\n   Was rich in love for helpless things.\n\n\n\n\n The Lens (1922)\n\n Here is a little piece of glass\n Set in a tube of shining brass.\n Through it had passed in grand review\n All that the world\u2019s heart ever knew\n Of joy, hope, sorrow, love and fears,\n The ceaseless struggle of the years,\n The darkest schemes the evil know,\n The noblest service men can show.\n\n Through it the risen dead have walked,\n The spectres of the past have stalked.\n Hope realized has lingered there,\n Likewise the shape of dark despair.\n This bit of glass is seasoned well,\n For human tongue could never tell\n The half it knows of peace and strife,\n And all that makes the old world\u2019s life.\n\n\n\n\n The Magic of the Screen (1922)\n\n WE look down summer lanes on winter days,\n We see the snow amid the summer\u2019s heat.\n Far lands are brought and laid before our gaze.\n The woodland stream runs by the city street.\n The light of noonday breaks the shades of night,\n And then is softened to the starlight\u2019s sheen.\n The dawn and twilight mingle in our sight,\n Such is the fairy magic of the screen.\n\n THE heavy-hearted slip away from tears\n And find the gladness of a fleeting hour\n In fairer spaces and more peaceful years,\n Where is no dearth of laughter, sun, and flower.\n Youth sees the future. Age with faded eye\n Looks back in joy on many a vanished scene,\n And walks again among the days gone by.\n Such is the fairy magic of the Screen.\n\n[Photo of palm trees with the caption: Photography by Rice, Los\nAngeles]\n\n\n\n\n The Making of Heaven (1922)\n\n GOD took the paths we longed in vain to go,\n And built a golden street beside a river.\n He took the gates Time closed to us below,\n And built a portal that shall stand forever.\n\n He took the longings that were vague and dim,\n And hedged about by human limitation;\n And built a world without a scar or rim\n To be our everlasting habitation.\n\n He took the bitter pangs that life has cost;\n Transformed them into joy, and song, and wonder.\n He took the treasured blessings we have lost,\n And planted them beside the waters yonder.\n\n He took our thoughts of hills, and woods, and streams;\n And made them real, with added beauty given.\n He took the shattered fragments of our dreams,\n And built a city fair, and called it Heaven.\n\n\n\n\n The Man Who Knows (1922)\n\n We owe our debt to the man who thinks,\n   For he leads our minds afar\n Till they stand and tremble on the brinks\n   Of the strangest things that are.\n We owe our debt to the man who hopes,\n   For he keeps our courage strong.\n He speaks his cheer to the soul that gropes,\n   And it wakens into song.\n\n And here\u2019s to the man whose soul believes,\n   In whose heart convictions burn\n Through the day of life, and who dying leaves\n   Them to others in their turn.\n But the old world\u2019s mighty tasks are planned\n   And done, as it onward goes,\n By the balanced mind and the steady hand\n   That belong to the man who knows.\n\n\n\n\n The Marine (1922)\n\n He has made a hundred harbors.\n He has sailed the seven seas.\n He has trod the Arctic ice fields.\n He has felt the tropic breeze.\n He has dwelt in peaceful cities.\n He has taken shade and sun--\n He has never hunted trouble\n Nor from trouble ever run.\n\n Grim and rugged are his features,\n Brown his arms and hard his hands;\n Yet his eyes are frank and winsome,\n With a boyish air he stands.\n Readiest of all our fighters,\n True his aim, and dread his gun--\n He has never hunted trouble\n Nor from trouble ever run.\n\n\n\n\n The Measure of Life (1922)\n\n Not what I get, but what I give\n   As days go fleeting past.\n Not how I feel, but how I live\n   Must tell the tale at last.\n Not what I have, but what I do,\n   The loads I bear, the paths I hew\n Through forests no man ever knew,\n   The highways that I cast.\n\n Not the advantage that I take\n   But give amid the strife.\n The service for some others\u2019 sake\n   Where selfishness is rife.\n The effort that I make to bless\n   My time and fellows with success,\n And brotherhood, and happiness,\n   Measures this little life.\n\n\n\n\n  Monuments (1922)\n\n Sometimes the angels go searching\n For the graves of the sons of God.\n They traverse the reaching mountains,\n The sea, and the rolling sod.\n They never on earth would find them\n By the marks we so long have known,\n For they never stop to decipher\n Our records in bronze and stone.\n\n They find the graves of God\u2019s children\n By the monuments builded fair\n Through years of struggle and toiling\n By the hands that are buried there\n Or words that were fitly spoken,\n Of service devoted, true.\n We mortals may never see them,\n But God\u2019s messengers always do.\n\n\n\n\n My Riches (1922)\n\n In no triumphal line I ride,\n   No praise falls on my ears;\n But I\u2019ve a flag that waves in pride,\n   Above me through the years.\n A flag whose folds are dear to me,\n   Whose glory I confess--\n The symbol of my liberty,\n   And peace, and happiness.\n\n Little of riches have I known,\n   Little perhaps deserve;\n But I\u2019ve a land to call my own,\n   A people I can serve.\n A country that\u2019s as broad and fair,\n   As any on the ball;\n With happy people everywhere--\n   An equal chance for all.\n\n\n\n\n A Parents\u2019 Prayer v1922\n\n God bless our little ones tonight,\n Our little ones--and thine.\n Protect their slumber by thy might.\n Grant them thy peace divine.\n Help us no duty to forget\n We owe to them or thee,\n And leave us nothing to regret\n In years that are to be.\n\n God, bless our little ones tonight,\n Our little ones--and thine.\n Help us to rear them true, and right,\n And clean, and strong, and fine.\n Lead them in ways more beautiful\n Than we have ever seen,\n And make them each more dutiful\n Than we have ever been.\n\n\n\n\n Patchwork (1922)\n\n A bit of cloud and a bit of blue\n   Make the wide and mighty sky.\n A touch of drought with the rain and dew\n   Make the seasons passing by.\n A bit of black and a bit of white\n   On the canvas make the scene.\n A bit of shade and a gleam of light\n   Make the drama on the screen.\n\n A bit of toil and a bit of rest\n   Make our winding human way.\n The rosy East and the flaming West\n   Make the glory of a day.\n A bit of hope and a bit of fear\n   Make the heart\u2019s eternal strife.\n A song of joy and a falling tear\n   Make the daily round of life.\n\n\n\n\n A Perfect Day (1922)\n\n A PERFECT day is made of perfect hours,\n   And perfect hours of perfect moments run.\n Of blessings realized and gathered flowers\n   Between the rising and the set of sun.\n Soon they are gone. Swiftly the light that played\n   On crests of gladness all has passed away.\n Dawn turns to Noon. Noon dies to Evening\u2019s shade.\n   Each at its best helps make a perfect day.\n\n A perfect day is in the reach of all\n   Who will but fill each moment to the full\n With joy, and meaning, thought, and dream, and all\n   That makes life deep, and rich, and wonderful.\n It is within the reach of all who hold\n   The will to serve, and laugh, and sing, an play\n Until the sunset covers all with gold,\n   And darkness falls upon a perfect day.\n\n\n\n\n Picture Books (1922)\n\n THEY are long gone, those pleasant hours,\n   When we as girls and boys\n Turned from our play among the flowers,\n   From all our painted toys,\n To turn the leaves of picture books,\n   To live with lords, and kings,\n Swineherds, and chimney sweeps, and cooks,\n   Soldiers, and such like things.\n\n How still they stood! From day to day\n   No figure ever stirred.\n The armies never marched away,\n   Nor ever spoke a word.\n Now soldiers march with fife and drum.\n   Men move in every scene.\n The picture books of old have come\n   To life upon the screen.\n\n\n\n\n Picture Writing (1922)\n\n Of old our fathers wrote in pictures.\n   \u2019Twas in an age of savage men.\n The years have rolled a mighty cycle,\n   And we\u2019ve got round to it again.\n They carved their story on the mountain\n   Where it for ages might be seen.\n We write ours on a filmy ribbon,\n   And throw it on a silver screen.\n\n If they who carved on cliff and hillside\n   Might but return today and see\n The picture writing of the present,\n   Big with surprise their eyes would be.\n We learned their message from the pictures,\n   Tho tiresome was the task and slow;\n But we shall pass along a story\n   That all the world may read and know.\n\n\n\n\n A Prayer for Thanksgiving (1922)\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n While we are seated at our board\n In comfort here today,\n With happy face, and kindly word,\n Let us not fail to pray\n For all who do not have their share\n Of comfort and of gain,\n For troubled people everywhere\n In hunger or in pain.\n\n Where weary mothers toil unfed\n In places foul and dim,\n Where little children cry for bread\n And none is given them,\n Lord, let Thy mercy have its way.\n Sow plenty in the land,\n And teach us in our joy today\n To lend a helping hand.\n\n\n\n\n A Psalm of the Movies (1922)\n _(With all due apologies.)_\n\n Tell me not in sturdy measure\n   What it says upon the screen.\n It does damage to my pleasure,\n   And the words are plainly seen.\n\n I am really in earnest,\n   As the titles onward roll;\n And so, when to me thou turnest,\n   Do not read aloud their scroll.\n\n Many peevish eyes remind us,\n   Tho each passage be sublime,\n Folks before and folks behind us\n   All can read both prose and rhyme.\n\n In the scene of love and battle,\n   As the swift film pictures life,\n If you do not cease your prattle,\n   There most surely will be strife.\n\n Let us watch and see what\u2019s doing\n   Till the hast\u2019ning drama ends,\n And not work the play\u2019s undoing,\n   Reading titles to our friends.\n\n\n\n\n The Radio Neighborhood (1922)\n\n While we have struggled patiently\n Toward the larger good,\n Friendship on every land and sea,\n A world-wide neighborhood,\n Space set its limits everywhere,\n Its hedging curtains swirled;\n But now we speed o\u2019er land, through air,\n And talk around the world.\n\n Who is our neighbor? Yesterday\n It was the man whose home\n Was down the road or o\u2019er the way\n Where we might often come.\n Today the golden tie that binds\n Men\u2019s souls in joy or care,\n The word uniting hearts and minds,\n Is vibrant everywhere.\n\n\n\n\n The Section Foreman (1922)\n\n \u201cI LIKE to have my section here\n The cleanest on the line.\n I tell the men to keep it clear\n Of every weed and vine.\n The ties are new. The rails are bright.\n The ballast\u2019s firm and strong.\n The road\u2019s a shining groove of light\n The trains may slip along.\u201d\n\n \u201cAnd on the road we all must take,\n The journey all pursue,\n Though \u2019tis not marked by line or stake,\n I have a section, too.\n \u2019Twill be inspected some bright day\n By the Great Judge divine,\n And how I\u2019d like to hear Him say:\n \u201bThe cleanest on the line\u2019!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n The Shadow World (1922)\n\n There is a world of shadows;\n   We see it on the screen\n --A world of grassy meadows,\n   With sunlit streams between,\n Streams flowing to the ocean.\n   They come from everywhere.\n Love, hope, despair, devotion,\n   Joy, sorrow--all are there.\n\n This world of wondrous seeming\n   Is not a distant place.\n \u2019Tis a new way of dreaming\n   To walk in it a space,\n To tread its flow\u2019ring meadows,\n   To sit beside its streams.\n It is a world of shadows,\n   And yet how real it seems!\n\n\n\n\n The Stars and Stripes for Me (1922)\n\n I bare my head to banners\n   That others know and love,\n But one I hold the fairest\n   That decks the blue above.\n Whatever be their emblems,\n   Wherever they may be,\n Stand, if you will, beneath them--\n   But the Stars and Stripes for me.\n\n It stands for all I covet,\n   It leads in all I seek;\n Its folds afford protection\n   And succor to the weak;\n It stands for right and justice,\n   And peace and liberty.\n To others you are welcome--\n   But the Stars and Stripes for me.\n\n No flag shall wave above it\n   On any purpose bent,\n Nor snatch its honor from it--\n   At least with my consent.\n It speaks of proud traditions,\n   High hopes for years to be.\n No other scheme or banner\n   But the Stars and Stripes for me.\n\n\n\n\n The Station (1922)\n\n THIS is a place of endings and of startings,\n Of journeys finished, journeys just begun.\n It is a place of meetings and of partings,\n Of heart-ties welded and of struggles done.\n It is a place of laughter and of sighing,\n And both commingled in some heart that swells;\n A place of whispered questions, low replying,\n Lost in the clanging din of engine bells.\n\n It is a place of partings and of meetings,\n A place of hoping and a place of fear,\n A place of farewells and a place of greetings.\n The mountain crests of life are rounded here.\n Here does the world pass by in long procession.\n Here do the heart\u2019s tides ebb, and flow, and surge.\n Earth\u2019s best and worst are mingled in the station.\n Here do the paths of all the world converge.\n\n[Poem title in cursive font is above an illustration surrounding the\nauthor\u2019s name. Left side has city skyscrapers and a dollar sign. Middle\nhas a train station. Right side has a simpler home in the countryside\nand a heart. White, billowing clouds form a prominent background for\nthe city and country settings. One double-line encircles all structures\nand the author\u2019s name.]\n\n\n\n\n The Teacher v1922\n\n The eyes of the ages are toward him.\n   The love of the race is his own.\n The heart of the world will reward him\n   With a name that is more than a throne.\n The life that he lives is unending,\n   For he is the servant of youth.\n Earth is lit by the flame he is tending\n   --This priest at the altar of truth.\n\n[Poem is on cover page with the following additional text: The Sunday\nSchool Journal, August 1922. The cover has an illustration of a\nhistorical setting. A man wearing robes and headband, sitting in a\nprominent stone chair on a raised platform, is looking at an unrolled\nscroll in his hands. He faces the viewer while four nearby children\ndressed in chitons and sandals look at him: one stands on each side of\nthe chair, the third sits in front, and the fourth stands in front. The\nchair and people are left of center. A large column frames the right\nside. The poem is between the people and column and prominently\ndisplayed in a housing resembling the facade of a temple. A tiger\nskin--head attached with gaping mouth--is in the foreground.\nImmediately behind all this is a stone wall with an engraving of a\nperson whose activity is obscured by the publication\u2019s title.]\n\n\n\n\n The Temple (1922)\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n When each home is a temple,\n   Its every room a shrine,\n Its hearth a sacred altar\n   Inscribed to things divine;\n When each eye in the circle\n   Reflects that altar flame,\n Each mealtime sacramental\n   Unto the Wondrous Name;\n\n When each morn is a prayer-time\n   Each evening hour is blessed\n With all the grace of kindness\n   And all the peace of rest;\n When each task is a service,\n   Each word a psalm of praise,\n The world will swing in sunshine\n   Through all the golden days.\n\n\n\n\n Voices of the Dawn (1922)\n\n Soft breaths of wind that gently pass,\n   Sigh in the branches of a tree,\n And whisper in the tangled grass;\n   The early droning of a bee,\n Shaking the dew from dripping wings\n   Among the blossoms on the lawn;\n The sprightly chirp of waking things.\n   These are the voices of the dawn.\n\n The falling of a loosened leaf,\n   That seems loud where all is so still;\n A field-mouse rustling in a sheaf;\n   The low of kine around the hill;\n A little tinkling waterfall,\n   Whose bubbles gurgle and are gone;\n A skylark\u2019s song; a robin\u2019s call.\n   These are the voices of the dawn.\n\n\n\n\n The Watchdog of the Sea (1922)\n\n Her silent body, slim and gray,\n   Hangs grimly off the bar,\n Then, like a wraith, she slips away,\n   Through mist to ports afar.\n She tells not where her course may lie,\n   Nor cares what perils be,\n She goes, nor ever questions why--\n   The watchdog of the sea.\n\n She plows alike through light and dark,\n   She scents the far wind\u2019s breath;\n Only at foemen does she bark,\n   And then her bark is death.\n She keeps our coasts from every threat,\n   Guards home and liberty;\n Her courage has not failed us yet--\n   The watchdog of the sea.\n\n\n\n\n Where Is Heaven? (1922)\n\n WHO has not heaven in his soul\n May seek o\u2019er land and main,\n From East to West, from Pole to Pole;\n But he will seek in vain.\n He may traverse the mighty sky,\n Ascend through spaces dim;\n But heaven with all its ecstacy\n Will not exist for him.\n\n Who carries heaven in his heart,\n Its sunshine in his breast,\n Need never seek a place apart,\n For every place is blest\n --The hill, the vale, the sea, the air,\n The stream, the forest dim.\n The light of God from portals fair\n Shines everywhere for him.\n\n\n\n\n Climaxes v1923\n\n We live thru drab, prosaic days\n That slowly come and go;\n We tread a thousand weary ways,\n And heavy burdens know;\n We toil in patience thru the years,\n Alike in sun and shower,\n Paying the price of blood and tears\n For one climactic hour.\n\n We tread the boards thru action long,\n Face conflict grim and hard,\n To gain one triumph over wrong,\n One moment of reward.\n We move upon the mighty screen\n From dawn to set of sun\n To make one little perfect scene\n Before our part is done.\n\n\n\n\n The Creator (1923)\n\n I looked in the face of a rose\n As it nodded in springtime and smiled.\n I saw where eternity glows\n In the sweet, tender eyes of a child.\n I looked in a sunbeam in air.\n They each bore an image divine.\n The Creator was everywhere.\n\n I looked at the set of the sun,\n And the crag that reflected its light.\n I thought on the day that was done,\n And I pondered the stars of the night.\n And I looked in the eyes of a man\n Who had stumbled through sinning to prayer.\n God\u2019s fingerprints there I could scan.\n He awaited me everywhere.\n\n\n\n\n Electricity (1923)\n\n Mankind\u2019s great servant I,\n   A servant long unknown\n And still unseen, save in the sky\n   When I illume its zone.\n I sweep around the stars,\n   Ascend through spaces dim.\n I light my lamps where night unbars\n   Above the mountains grim.\n\n But still my chief delight\n   Is not to rock the deep,\n And flash my fires across the night\n   Where angry tempests sweep.\n It is to drive the keel,\n   Bear words from place to place,\n To swing the beam, and turn the wheel,\n   And serve the human race.\n\n[Illustration of a stormy night. Foreground fills bottom third of the\nframe with wind-swept grass. Pine tree fills the frame and is\nilluminated by a single lightning bolt. Behind the tree whiteness fills\nthe middle third of the frame; its rounded top together with its\njuxtaposition with the rounded foreground gives it a crescent shape\n(the moon?). A few stars are visible.]\n\n\n\n\n An Electric Personality (1923)\n\n A most _electric_ gentleman\n He was his whole life through.\n Down busy ways his _current_ ran,\n As all his friends well knew.\n He was _live wire_, so to say,\n He liked to see things go,\n _Magnetic_ in most every way\n --_A human dynamo_.\n\n One day a blue coat collared him\n When on some mischief bent,\n And in a jail cell dark and dim\n His next few days were spent.\n What was the _charge_ against him? Yes\n \u2019Twas natural, you see,\n So much so you could really guess\n --Assault and _Battery_.\n\n\n\n\n The End of the Trail (1923)\n\n I must travel the miles till the journey is done,\n   Whatsoever the turn of the way.\n I shall bring up at last at the set of the sun,\n   And shall rest at the close of the day.\n Let me deal as I journey with foeman and friends\n   In a way that no man can assail,\n And find nothing but peace at the roadway\u2019s last bend,\n   When I come to the end of the trail.\n\n We are brothers who travel a great, common road,\n   And the journey is easy for none.\n We must succor the weary and lift on the load\n   Of the pilgrim whose courage is done.\n Let me deal with them each on my way to the West\n   With a mercy that never shall fail,\n And lie down to my dreams with a conscience at rest\n   When I come to the end of the trail.\n\n\n\n\n\n If Christ Is Not Divine (1923)\n\n If Christ is not divine,\n Then lay the Book away,\n And every blessed faith resign\n That has so long been yours and mine,\n Through many a trying day;\n Forget the place of bended knee;\n And dream no more of worlds to be.\n\n If Christ is not divine,\n Go seal again the tomb;\n Take down the Cross, Redemption\u2019s sign;\n Quench all the stars of hope that shine;\n Forget the upper room;\n And let us turn and travel on\n Across the night that knows no dawn.\n\n\n\n\n The Making of Home (1923)\n\n God took a hearth-fire, warm and bright,\n   And planted love beside it;\n Spun happy laughter through its light,\n   So gay no gloom could hide it.\n He wove a golden thread of song\n   Among the flick\u2019ring shadows,\n Like that where days are bright and long\n   Upon the summer meadows.\n\n He made a sanctuary fair\n   With His own presence gifted.\n He built a holy altar there\n   Where hearts should oft be lifted.\n With His watch-care perennial\n   He wrapped it \u2019round and framed it.\n He flung a roof above it all,\n   And Home was what He named it.\n\n\n\n\n No Room in the Inn (1923)\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n The stars in the heavens were gleaming\n On mountains, and meadows, and rills.\n The song of the angels was streaming\n While shepherds kept watch on the hills.\n The wise men bent low by a manger,\n Apart from Earth\u2019s striving and din,\n To welcome the Heavenly Stranger,\n For there was no room in the inn.\n\n The years have not halted their sweeping,\n It is Christmas again on the earth.\n Again the glad season we\u2019re keeping,\n Recounting the tale of His birth.\n Let not our hearts be, as He sees us,\n So crowded with pleasure and sin\n They can offer no welcome to Jesus.\n Lord, let there be room in the inn.\n\n\n\n\n Our Hearts Forget (1923)\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n Our hearts forget,\n Amid the daily round of toil and fret.\n They are so weak, so prone to lose their hold\n On dreams of yesterday, and treasures old.\n The thoughts that thrilled them in a vanished day,\n Forgotten now, are cold in ashes gray.\n Life brings us wondrous days and hours, but yet\n\n Our hearts forget\n The times of joy and vision we have met,\n The binding vows we once so bravely made,\n The fond petitions that we trembling laid\n Before the Great, White, Shining Throne above,\n The tender, wistful, clinging bonds of love,\n Contrition\u2019s anguished and tear-washed regret\n Our hearts forget.\n\n\n\n\n A Prayer (1923)\n\n We thank Thee, Father, for the care\n   That did not come to try us,\n The burden that we did not bear,\n   The trouble that passed by us,\n The task we did not fail to do,\n   The hurt we did not cherish,\n The friend who did not prove untrue,\n   The joy that did not perish.\n\n We thank Thee for the blinding storm\n   That did not loose its swelling,\n And for the sudden blight of harm\n   That came not nigh our dwelling.\n We thank Thee for the dart unsped,\n   The bitter word unspoken,\n The grave unmade, the tear unshed,\n   The heart-tie still unbroken.\n\n\n\n\n The Second Wind (1923)\n\n When \u201cLizzie\u201d starts to climb a hill\n   Too hard to make \u201con high,\u201d\n She goes it very well until\n   Her power begins to die.\n Then, shifting to another gear,\n   She leaves the slope behind,\n And hustles on without a fear\n   Upon her second wind.\n\n I notice it is so with men.\n   They start out with a will,\n They go it well awhile, and then,\n   Slow down midway the hill.\n But, seeing that their strength is run,\n   They change their gear, and find\n The world\u2019s best work is often done\n   On people\u2019s second wind.\n\n\n\n\n The Serving Giant (1923)\n\n The mighty giant of the air,\n More ancient than the sun\n Whose power is vibrant everywhere\n That restless force may run\n Shakes the foundation of the hill,\n Or rends the ground in twain,\n Or blasts the forest at his will\n And levels all again.\n\n And yet he stoops to hold the light\n That aged eyes may see.\n He warms the baby\u2019s feet at night,\n And cooks for company.\n He does a thousand little things\n To help the world along.\n He who the most of service brings\n Is strongest of the strong.\n\n\n\n\n The Teacher v1923\n\n HE NEVER wandered far from his own town,\n   The little hamlet where he lived and died,\n And yet his pupils traveled up and down\n   The whole wide world of town and countryside.\n He sought no honor to adorn his name\n   Nor dreamed of crowns that tarnish and grow dim;\n But those he taught achieved undying fame\n   And in their triumph hour remembered him.\n\n He had no time to mold the wide world\u2019s life\n   Or take a hand in the affairs of state;\n But others did he send into the strife\n   And through them helped to shape his people\u2019s fate.\n He won no earthly riches for himself.\n   He had no time to waste in seeking gold\n But every day bestowed on him a pelf\n   Of love whose value never could be told.\n\n[Poem is on cover page with the following additional text: The Sunday\nSchool Journal, September 1923. The cover has an illustration of a\nrural scene. Bottom third is landscape. A dirt road in the foreground\ngradually descends into a town having a church on its outskirts. The\nroad is lined with bushes. Fields extend from the bushes. A large oak\ntree in the foreground frames the scene\u2019s left side and top half.]\n\n\n\n\n Transforming Love (1923)\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n Love transforms all things.\n Lone days are touched with light,\n And trying moments lose their stings,\n And vexing things come right.\n Love\u2019s ointment to our eyes applied,\n We see with vision glorified.\n\n Love transforms all things--\n Worn faces, hardened hands.\n To the poor hovel glory clings,\n For Love\u2019s heart understands.\n Whatever it beholds is fair;\n It sees each hidden beauty there.\n\n\n\n\n The Window of Dreams (1923)\n\n There is a little window.\n   \u2019Tis called, I think, a screen.\n Thru it the strangest people\n   And fairest things are seen.\n Calm valleys, silent woodlands,\n   Tall summits, shining streams,\n Long roads and busy cities\n   Are in this world of dreams.\n\n There weary hearts may travel,\n   Each to its wonted place;\n And lonely ones may revel\n   In pictured act and face.\n There to our hidden longings\n   The waiting answer gleams\n The while our thoughts inhabit\n   This pictured world of dreams.\n\n\n\n\n Brotherhood (1924)\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n Let black be black and white be white,\n   As they were meant to be;\n But let the hearts of men be right\n   On every land and sea.\n Let brown and yellow boast their race,\n   Their blood no taint e\u2019er tell;\n But let them each possess the grace\n   To wish a neighbor well.\n\n Let us forget our foolish strife,\n   And all our groundless hate.\n We needs must live a common life,\n   And share a common fate.\n Whatever troubles we must stem,\n   Whate\u2019er our place or name,\n Beneath the crust that covers them\n   Our hearts are all the same.\n\n\n\n\n The Builder v1924\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n The builder of the future\n   Is not the trader keen,\n The driver of the turbine,\n   Nor any swift machine;\n Not he who rides in triumph\n   Through the admiring town,\n Fawning for public praises\n   And seeking for renown.\n\n The builder of the future\n   Sits not upon a throne.\n He toils among the shadows,\n   His struggles oft unknown.\n He is the one who kindles\n   And keeps the fires of truth,\n The teacher who is molding\n   The plastic heart of youth.\n\n\n\n\n Childhood on the Farm (1924)\n\n In many a crowded city\n   Where moves the human tide,\n Eyes look with eager longing\n   To some old countryside.\n Hearts that have long been sated\n   With earth recall the charm\n Of life\u2019s morning splendor\n   In childhood on the farm.\n\n From many a path of glory\n   And many a throne of power\n Is still recalled the wonder\n   Of some dear, distant hour.\n Men look through years of toiling,\n   Of sorrow, strife, and harm,\n And treasures unforgotten\n   Their childhood on the farm.\n\n\n\n\n The Clock (1924)\n\n WHAT is the matter with our clock\n I cannot understand.\n It sounds its steady old tick-tock\n With mien and manner grand.\n To look at its great open face\n You\u2019d think it truthful quite.\n I\u2019m sorry such is not the case.\n It\u2019s hardly ever right.\n\n Just yesterday when I was blue\n Because Tom didn\u2019t call\n To play with me when work was through,\n Its hands scarce moved at all.\n When I went to his house today\n To spend an hour or so,\n We\u2019d scarce got started at our play\n Till it was time to go.\n\n\n\n\n The Dream (1924)\n\n I had a dream the other night,\n   Too sweet for word of tongue,\n Of days when, beautiful and bright,\n   The children all were young.\n I saw them playing on the floor\n   And \u2019mongst the dooryard flowers.\n Soft baby voices came once more\n   From unforgotten hours.\n\n I came from work when eve was late\n   And all the sky was gold.\n They ran to meet me at the gate\n   With greetings as of old.\n I helped to tuck them in at night\n   With prayers of happiness,\n But my arms ached when dawn was bright\n   With a great emptiness.\n\n\n\n\n  An Easter Vision (1924)\n\n Whene\u2019er I hear the Easter Bells\n Ring out their carols gay,\n The graves from all the hills and dells\n Dissolve from sight away.\n I see the mighty planet left\n Without a marble stone\n To tell of death, or one bereft\n Who comes to weep alone.\n\n Dear hands, long folded to their rest,\n Return to touch my own,\n And voices memory has blessed\n In each familiar tone\n Speak as in other days to me;\n While on the springtime\u2019s breath\n Is borne to every land and sea\n The news: \u201cThere is no death.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n The Electric Spark (1924)\n\n SEE this snappy little spark\n Flashing pertly in the dark;\n Coming with its sudden gleam\n Out from nowhere, it would seem;\n Glowing here against the shade,\n Fire unkindled, light unmade,\n Brother to the bolt\u2019s fierce blow\n And the driving dynamo.\n\n Here is hid the mystery,\n Mayhap, of the land and sea.\n All creation\u2019s story may\n Hide within this flashing ray.\n Light, and heat, and force it holds;\n Boundless energy unfolds;\n Tells the secret, if we find it,\n Of the God who stands behind it.\n\n\n\n\n Fade-Outs (1924)\n\n Faces, like stars, rise on our little ken;\n   Shine on our souls with warm and cheering ray.\n Then, like the stars, they pass from us again,\n   Leaving the dreary world of yesterday.\n Friends slip into our little world awhile.\n   Joys come to thrill us with their rapture keen.\n The friends go trudging on their winding mile\n   The joys fade as a picture on the screen.\n\n Altho unseen, they are not wholly gone.\n   A friendship once established cannot die.\n A joy once tasted sweetly lingers on,\n   A perfumed presence never seen but nigh.\n In the great drama of the fleeting years\n   They come upon the stage and play their part.\n Then, tho each wondrous vision disappears,\n   It leaves its deathless image on the heart.\n\n\n\n\n  Film Judgment (1924)\n\n The man who reads the titles,\n   The man who tramps our toes,\n The man who holds the end seat\n   Whatever comes and goes,\n The man who laughs so loudly\n   That all the house can hear,\n The man who with his snoring\n   Outrages every ear.\n\n All died, and took their journey\n   Where the unseen begins,\n And stood before the judgment\n   To answer for their sins.\n They got a common sentence.\n   Each one was ordered flat\n To sit and fume forever\n   Behind a picture hat.\n\n\n\n\n Finding God (1924)\n\n I found Him in the whisp\u2019ring pines,\n   And in the beauty of the rose;\n I found Him where the first star shines,\n   Above the Summer day\u2019s soft close;\n I found Him where the storms grew wild;\n   I found Him in the happy face\n And manner of a little child,\n   Revealing loveliness and grace.\n\n I found Him in the swinging suns\n   That wheel their way through endless space,\n And in the humblest path that runs\n   To love\u2019s sequestered dwelling place;\n I found Him where the violets dwell,\n   And where the bluebirds wheel and dart;\n But never really knew Him well\n   Until I found Him in my heart.\n\n\n\n\n The Firefly (1924)\n\n We\u2019ve never gotten to it,\n With all our learning keen.\n We simply cannot do it\n With any fine machine.\n Old Nature\u2019s lanterns greet us\n When dusk succeeds the sun.\n A thousand miles they beat us\n On all we\u2019ve ever done.\n\n In spite of shining crescent\n And starbeam\u2019s boasted light,\n The firefly\u2019s incandescent\n Most glorifies the night.\n Across the meadows flying\n Cold light it generates.\n We, too, have long been trying,\n But Time still stands and waits.\n\n\n\n\n The God of the Beginning (1924)\n\n IN the beginning was God. Beyond Time\u2019s threshold he hovered,\n Back of the earliest dawn or the flush of the first fair spring.\n Farther than eye has disclosed or the keenest thought has discovered,\n Moved in the silences vast the Maker of everything.\n Back of the first heart-ties and the first warm heart-fires lighted,\n Back of gleaming sky, the sea, and the shining sod,\n Back of the first fond dream that a hopeful heart e\u2019er sighted,\n Lingered the Soul Divine and brooded the Love of God.\n\n IN the beginning was God. O\u2019er struggle and strife diurnal,\n The void, and the mist, and the darkness, the mire, and the slime, and the clay,\n Through the long course of the ages has watched the Spirit Eternal\n Seeking for men the dawn of a better and kindlier day.\n Brooding, watching, and hoping--but, withal, ever beseeching,\n Over the track of time a saving shade it has cast,\n And into the distant future as far as the years are reaching.\n In the beginning was God, and God shall be at the last.\n\n\n\n\n Jove\u2019s Plaint (1924)\n\n The good old days have vanished,\n And I suppose forever.\n My thunderbolt once quivered\n O\u2019er mountain, plain and river.\n But now they have it captured,\n These humans so audacious.\n They dole it out through cables,\n To serve their plans rapacious.\n\n They sell it through a meter,\n Howe\u2019er the gods may scoff it.\n They send a monthly statement,\n And make a profit off it.\n Alas, my bolt of thunder\n (And what worse could befall it?)\n Is hopelessly commercialized.\n \u201cJuice\u201d now I think they call it.\n\n\n\n\n The Land of Heart\u2019s Desire (1924)\n\n There is a land of wonder\n With fields and towers agleam.\n I often see it yonder\n Beyond the Hills of Dream,\n Touched by the glow of morning,\n Lit by the sunset\u2019s fire,\n Or with starbeams adorning--\n The Land of Heart\u2019s Desire.\n\n Along the road of duty\n We daily struggle on;\n But e\u2019er we touch its beauty,\n Eluding us, \u2019tis gone.\n Yet through the clinging shadows,\n The brambles, and the mire,\n It lures us toward its meadows--\n The Land of Heart\u2019s Desire.\n\n\n\n\n Minds (1924)\n\n SOME minds are flaming rockets\n That flit among the stars;\n And some are gaily nickeled\n And painted motor cars;\n And some are lumbering wagons\n That slowly make their way,\n With nothing keen to offer\n And nothing fine to say.\n\n THE swiftly flaming rocket\n Loses its brilliancy.\n The fine car is supplanted\n By one more fair to see.\n But the slow-moving wagon\n That lumbers down the road\n Is certain of arrival\n And bears the heavy load.\n\n\n\n\n Miracle (1924)\n\n Whoever saw a garden grow,\n   Or watched a robin build her nest,\n Or lingered in the flaming glow\n   Of sunset blazing in the West;\n Whoever walked the fruitful plain,\n   And saw the green stalks reach, and swell,\n And ripen to a field of grain\n   Knows earth is full of miracle.\n\n Whoever wandered in the wood,\n   And rambled down its aisle of dreams,\n Or sought the orchard path, or stood\n   Where falls the murmur of a stream;\n Whoever watched a cloudland wild,\n   Or sensed the twilight\u2019s gentle spell,\n Or prattled with a little child\n   Knows life is full of miracle.\n\n\n\n\n The Picture\u2019s Lament (1924)\n\n They take great liberties with me,\n Nor ever ask me yea or nay.\n I\u2019m just as weary as can be\n From prancing on a screen all day.\n I\u2019ve dug, and climbed, and laughed, and wept,\n Loitered, and danced to make a show;\n And not a moment have I slept.\n They keep me always on the go.\n\n No choice is mine. I needs must move,\n Swiftly, obedient, silently.\n No fields of freedom do I rove.\n My course is parceled out for me.\n But this I cannot quite forget\n --If I can wake some old refrain\n Or still a rush of wild regret,\n I shall not then have toiled in vain.\n\n\n\n\n Prayer for Normal Men (1924)\n\n For every poor, defective soul that wanders\n In the dark shades of subjectivity,\n For each deluded mind that glibly flounders\n In the foul mire of abnormality,\n Give us a host who cheerful laughter scatter,\n Whose willing hands toil on in love\u2019s sweet right,\n Who plant the roses, guide the feet that patter\n Around the hearth of happiness at night.\n\n Give us, O God, a race of normal people\n Who walk no paths of morbidness apart;\n Who dwell not in the bog, nor yet the steeple,\n But in the dusty way, the busy mart;\n Who like their work, care for the folks about them,\n And make each day a thing of joy and song.\n This world of our\u2019s could never do without them.\n They are the men who make it move along.\n\n\n\n\n The Railroad (1924)\n\n WHERE do they go, these shining rails\n That ramble so far away\n That seem to reach where the twilight pales\n At the beautiful gates of day?\u201d\n \u201cThey run to the wider world, my boy,\n Of dreaming, and strife, and again,\n With its mingling of weariness and joy,\n To the city--and back again.\n\n Out of the valley and o\u2019er the hill\n Where childhood has had its day,\n Out of the hamlet so small and still\n And into the far away,\n On, on to the world of toil, my lad,\n With its struggle of brawn and brain,\n Some of it good and some of it bad,\n To the city--and back again.\n\n\n\n\n Shadows on the Wall (1924)\n\n Coming, going, thru the play,\n Flashing on the screen,\n Do the actors take their way.\n Briefly each is seen.\n What are they--these shapes that move,\n Forms that rise and fall,\n Urged by hope, or fear, or love?\n Shadows on the wall.\n\n In the daily strain and strife\n Shift and change appear.\n On the larger stage of life\n Mingle smile and tear.\n Here our little race we run,\n Then are vanished all.\n What are we when all is done?\n Shadows on the wall.\n\n\n\n\n Sorrow (1924)\n\n God sometimes drops the shadows o\u2019er us,\n   And leaves them for a space,\n That we may clearly see before us\n The image of the love he bore us\n   Reflected on his face.\n\n He sometimes sends us hours of grieving,\n   That we may slip away\n From sounds and voices so deceiving,\n And once again in faith believing\n   Kneel at his throne and pray.\n\n He sometimes leaves us to our weeping,\n   Though bitter seem our tears,\n That briny drops from we eyes creeping\n May wake some happiness long sleeping\n   For gladder, sweeter years.\n\n\n\n\n The Things That I Believe (1924)\n\n The things that I believe\n   --These things are life to me.\n Some all the senses might deceive,\n   For some I cannot see;\n But in the tempest fierce and old\n   I feel their strong truth grip and hold.\n\n The things that I believe\n   --I cannot let them go;\n And empty-hearted grope and grieve\n   In darkness and in woe.\n So, God, I thank my every star\n   They are no fewer than they are.\n\n\n\n\n Today and Tomorrow (1924)\n\n Could something only make today\n   As lovely as tomorrow,\n As free from care and shadows gray,\n   As void of tears and sorrow,\n The world would be a perfect place,\n   Without a woe to blight it.\n Earth would be rich in every grace,\n   With happiness to light it.\n\n Yet day is day, and life is life.\n   Time e\u2019er repeats its story.\n Each morning brings its toil and strife,\n   Likewise its gleam of glory.\n Each brings its mingled shine and shade,\n   Its mingled joy and sorrow,\n For each today God ever made\n   Was wrought from a tomorrow.\n\n\n\n\n The Tree (1924)\n\n It stood upon a meadow fair,\n A green and leafy tree.\n Gaily it met the breezes there,\n Lovely it was to see.\n One night a storm of wind and rain\n Rent it from earth apart.\n The reason then was very plain.\n Decay was at its heart.\n\n He was a youth of promise fine,\n The strongest of the crowd.\n His features wore the stamp divine,\n His eye was clear and proud.\n He could have lived to purpose high\n And played a noble part.\n But no, he fell. The reason why?\n Decay was at his heart.\n\n\n\n\n The Unknown Soldier (1924)\n\n The guns are silent in the valley now.\n The river creeps serenely on its way.\n Still clings the ivy to the rugged brow;\n Of yonder hill, and roses grace the day.\n No grave was heaped. No word of prayer was said.\n No stone was reared against the pitying sky.\n None ever knew where rests the silent dead\n As unrevealing years go drifting by.\n\n And yet he is not lost. This quiet sod;\n Can rest him quite as well as anywhere,\n Beneath the gentle, sleepless eye of God,\n Whose robins sing for him when Spring is fair.\n His life is wrought into the victory.\n Glory is his. He need not urge his claim.\n He lives on in the better age to be,\n Though sleeping in a grave without a name.\n\n\n\n\n What Does It Matter? (1924)\n\n What does it matter if here or there\n Is a strand of joy or a thread of care,\n If when the web has been finished all\n The final pattern is beautiful?\n The One who weaves on the world\u2019s great loom\n Must make His fabric of shine and gloom.\n It takes the gold and the somber hue\n To make it lovely when He is through.\n\n What does it matter if there or here\n Is a song of joy or a falling tear,\n If at the hour of the setting sun\n A lovely product is held forth done?\n The One who orders the passing hours\n With ceaseless cycle of sun and showers\n Fashions the color and rare design\n Of a growing tapestry divine.\n\n\n\n\n Why We Are Here (1924)\n\n OUR minds were made to search the deeps\n   Of Truth\u2019s clear-flowing stream;\n Our feet to scale the rugged steeps\n   Of faith and hope and dream;\n Our hands to toil and serve and lift,\n   To help and heal and bless;\n Our hearts to bring the priceless gift\n   Of love and tenderness.\n\n Our lives were made to struggle on,\n   The upward path to plod;\n Our souls to catch the glint of dawn\n   From the white throne of God;\n Our lips the helpful word to speak,\n   The tender song to sing;\n Our eyes to search the world and seek\n   The good in everything.\n\n\n\n\n The Age of a Heart (1925)\n\n SO LONG as stars are bright and fair\n And skies are blue and clear;\n So long as joy is in the air\n And Dreamland hovers near;\n So long as roses blossom gay\n And song is on the tongue--\n Tho brow be lined and hair be gray\n That long the heart is young.\n\n But when the sky grows dull and sere\n And roses fade and die;\n When song no longer holds the ear\n Nor Dreamland hovers nigh;\n When passing days no wonder bring,\n No great adventure hold--\n In spite of time or anything\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: Last line is missing from source.]\n\n\n\n\n The Children v1925\n\n The dear little children that climb on the knee,\n The promise and hope of the morrows to be\n --Their song is unfailing; their spirits are bright;\n Their hearts are courageous from morning till night,\n How helpless they are! On our mercy they wait.\n The hands of their elders must fashion their fate.\n They are frail little barks to be launched on the sea\n --These dear little children that climb on the knee.\n\n Oh guide them with hands that are tender and true.\n The voyage is long and the lighthouses few.\n What struggles await them! What conflicts and fears!\n What dream castles shattered! What heartaches and tears!\n Their skies will have clouds, and the clouds will bring rain.\n Then all will give way to the sunshine again.\n Bound upon their souls are the ages to be\n --These dear little children that climb on the knee.\n\n\n\n\n Credo (1925)\n\n Lord, I believe\n That thou hast made the earth, the sky, the sea,\n And all the members of immensity,\n The rose that blooms beside the traveled way;\n That thou didst weave\n The fabric of the dawn and close of day.\n\n Lord, I believe\n That thou hast fashioned me to be thine own,\n Hast made my human heart to be thy throne,\n Hast made this voice of mine that it should sing\n From morn till eve,\n These hands the precious gift of love to bring.\n\n Lord, I believe\n That yonder, past the valley\u2019s shaded rim,\n The lifting crest that seems so cold and dim\n Is but the outlines of another shore\n That doth receive\n The loved and lost of earth forevermore.\n\n\n\n\n The Fabulous City (1925)\n\n There rises in the distance\n Across the Vale of Dreams\n A fair and lovely city,\n Built on get-rich-quick schemes.\n Its towers are bright and shining.\n Its streets are paved with gold,\n Paid for by mine promotions\n And stock sales bad and bold.\n Wondrous that shining city\n Before our vision stands,\n But when we come to touch it\n It crumbles \u2019neath our hands.\n Ethereal its fabric,\n Intangible its soil.\n \u2019Twas builded with the fortunes\n We never made in oil.\n\n\n\n\n Home v1925\n\n Standing beside a quiet path they found it.\n   A humble little house it was, and low.\n With patient hands they planted flowers around it,\n   And flung its windows to the sun\u2019s warm glow.\n They laid an open book upon the table,\n   And hung a simple picture on the wall.\n They trained a vining rose around the gable.\n   They built a throne and crowned love Lord of all.\n\n They kindled on the hearth a fair flame gleaming,\n   And set a row of chairs before its light\n Where happy eyes should cast their cheerful beaming\n   With rest and song that come with falling night.\n They reared with loving hands a fireside altar\n   Where hungry hearts in reverence might come,\n Where trembling lips might their petitions falter\n   Before the Throne of Grace, and lo, \u2019twas HOME.\n\n\n\n\n Palm Sunday v1925\n\n Adown the ringing street he came,\n The Lord of all the years.\n A thousand voices of acclaim\n Were ringing in his ears.\n Silent was he who knew his way\n Of mingled joy and loss\n Began where Bartimaeus lay,\n And ended at a cross.\n\n And ever it has been as then.\n The path of triumph trod\n Amid the loud acclaim of men,\n Beneath the smile of God,\n Begins where need holds forth its hands,\n And pleads with weary eyes,\n And ends where, grim and silent, stands\n The Hill of Sacrifice.\n\n\n\n\n Roads v1925\n\n There is a road to happiness;\n   There is a road to pain;\n A road to failure and success;\n   A road to loss and gain;\n A road to meadows gay with flowers;\n   A road to evenfall;\n A road to bright and shadowed hours--\n   God lets me tread them all.\n\n There is a quiet road that finds\n   The little singing streams;\n A road that reaches till it winds\n   Along the Hills of Dreams;\n A road to hope, to duty done,\n   And to that last clear call\n Across the gates of setting sun--\n   God lets me tread them all.\n\n\n\n\n The Teacher\u2019s Reward (1925)\n\n Who dwells with everlasting truth\n   And lets that truth possess his soul;\n Who has companionship with youth\n   To keep him young as swift years roll;\n Who writes his story on the page\n   Of history by labor hard;\n And builds his life into his age,\n   Has his reward.\n\n Who opens eyes that else were blind\n   Till they behold the earth and sky;\n Who wakens interest in the mind\n   That else were barren, dead, and dry;\n Who gently takes a weary hand\n   And lays it in the Palm that\u2019s scarred;\n Though others own the gold and land,\n   Has his reward.\n\n\n\n\n Via Dolorosa (1925)\n\n Out the Damascus Gate it ran,\n   A weary, cheerless road\n Along which stumbled once a Man,\n   A cross-tree for His load.\n The street was teeming with the throng.\n   The air was chill and gray,\n The hour when Jesus passed along\n   That Dolorosa Way.\n\n It wound a slope that flung its height\n   Against a sullen sky.\n Upon a summit--tragic sight--\n   Three crosses lifted high.\n But lo, beyond them, manifold\n   The lifting glow of day.\n It ended at the gates of gold,\n   That Dolorosa Way.\n\n\n\n\n The Chameleon (1926)\n\n Upon a green leaf he is green,\n Upon a red one ruddy.\n He suits his color to the scene--\n Blue, brown, or grey, or muddy.\n\n Wherever he may chance to go\n He meets the crowd\u2019s demanding.\n In Rome he does as Romans do,\n And so he keeps his standing.\n\n I know not his philosophy--\n Platonic or Aurelian.\n No matter. Who would want to be\n Reputed a chameleon?\n\n\n\n\n The City\u2019s Nerves (1926)\n\n Somewhere is closed a circuit,\n And miles and miles away\n A filament is lighted;\n A wheel goes into play;\n A thought is carried quickly,\n In clearest tones expressed,\n Because an impulse flashes\n North, South, or East, or West.\n\n And how? Beneath the pavement,\n Away from human gaze,\n Across the humid darkness\n Wires run in countless ways.\n In cables, ever-reaching\n Through subterranean curves,\n They carry thought and action.\n They are the city\u2019s nerves.\n\n[Illustration\u2019s upper half depicts an above-ground daytime view of a\ncityscape. The lower half depicts a below-ground view cast in darkness\nexcept for two unclothed men; bolts of electricity extend from their\nhands. The art is signed \u201cPancoast.\u201d]\n\n\n\n\n Doing It Well (1926)\n\n I SAW him do his act before a large and motley throng\n That sought relief and laughter in the house of dreams and song.\n Just who he was or whence he came of course I cannot tell.\n He only played a banjo, but he played the banjo well.\n\n I saw her washing dishes in a simple little cot.\n Her life was spent in toiling there upon the selfsame spot.\n Her face was furrowed, and each line a story had to tell.\n She only kept a household, but she kept the household well.\n\n I saw him fire an engine in a vast and grimy room,\n Though it was hard to see him in the still and dusty gloom.\n He watched each motion keenly as the pistons rose and fell.\n He only fired an engine, but he fired the engine well.\n\n I saw him digging ditches with the mud upon his hands,\n And with that steady motion that a digger understands.\n He claimed no fame nor fortune; only brawn he had to sell.\n He was but digging ditches, but he dug the ditches well.\n\n It matters rather little what task one may choose to do,\n So long as it is honest and his purposes are true.\n The years will ring his story far upon their golden bell,\n If he will only do the thing he may be doing well.\n\n\n\n\n Enslaved Lightning (1926)\n\n A nature worshipper, long dead,\n   Came back in ghostly form,\n To visit where, in ages sped,\n   He bowed before the storm.\n The city streets with radiance burned\n   Through every darkened hour,\n And every busy wheel was turned\n   By harnessed lightning power.\n\n \u201cAh me,\u201d he said, \u201cThe times do change.\n   This is a different ball.\n So altered everything, so strange,\n   I\u2019m not at home at all.\n These moderns have audacious wills;\n   The gods we served aright,\n They\u2019ve put to work to turn their mills\n   And light their streets at night.\u201d\n\n[Illustration of a window view of a city\u2019s downtown on a stormy night.\nA generator is in the foreground next to the window. The window frames\na skyscraper, other buildings, and street lights; they are all filled\nwith light. A bolt of lightning extends from the sky to the generator.\nThe art piece is signed \u201cA Sturges\u201d and below it the caption reads,\n\u201cDecoration by A Sturges.\u201d]\n\n\n\n\n Flowers Are Thoughts of God (1926)\n\n The flowers are the thoughts of God.\n They bloom in sun and shadow,\n By traveled path, or virgin sod,\n In every lovely meadow;\n In dooryards where the children play,\n And hours are swiftly winging;\n And Love comes at the close of day,\n Its selfless tribute bringing.\n\n Silent they grow, each in its place,\n With cheer for all who love them,\n Breathing their perfume in the face\n Of all who bend above them.\n They blossom where the weary plod\n Their ways of toil and duty.\n The flowers are the thoughts of God;\n His love speaks in their beauty.\n\n\n\n\n A Grace for Meals (1926)\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n Thou who doest hold all things at Thy command\n   The blessing of the sunshine and the rain,\n Thou never hast withheld Thy kindly hand\n   From giving us the fruitage of the plain.\n Long hast Thou sheltered us from every storm.\n   Long hast Thou seen that we were duly fed.\n Long hast Thou kept our fireside bright and warm.\n   And so we thank Thee for our daily bread.\n\n As we assemble at our simple board\n   In all the gladness that is ours today,\n We thank Thee for Thy presence with us, Lord,\n   And ask that Thou wilt be our guest alway.\n May all Thy children, wheresoe\u2019er they be,\n   Share in Thy bounty, by Thy hand be led,\n And lift their hearts from every land and sea,\n   With us, to thank Thee for their daily bread.\n\n\n\n\n The Grey Host (1926)\n\n From the silent Southern river,\n   From the reaching Western plain,\n From the quaint New England hillside\n   Comes a host to march again.\n From Manila and El Caney,\n   From the depths of many a sea,\n From the flow\u2019ring fields of Flanders,\n   Come the sons of Liberty.\n\n Who are these that tread the silence?\n   They are our departed brave,\n Who, despite their years of dreaming,\n   Still are troubled in the grave.\n See, they bear a flaming banner,\n   These who died for us of yore.\n This the message that it flashes:\n   \u201cBrothers, dream of war no more.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n Heart Gates (1926)\n\n There is a wondrous country,\n   A city built foursquare.\n And each and all are welcome\n   To find a dwelling there.\n The nations gather homeward,\n   Peoples from far and wide.\n Directions do not matter\n   With gates on every side.\n\n And is not this the mission\n   That God to us has given--\n To make the world we live in\n   Seem more and more like heaven?\n Shall we not seek the friendship\n   Of peoples far and wide,\n And let the heart\u2019s fair city\n   Have gates on every side?\n\n\n\n\n The High Tension Line (1926)\n\n It has no boast to make at all.\n   Patient it holds unto its task\n Summer and Winter, Spring and Fall,\n   With naught to tell and naught to ask.\n\n Humble and steady, sure and true,\n   Seeking no change of work or place,\n It has its given work to do,\n   And does it with a changeless grace.\n\n In its deep channel underground\n   It serves its purpose day by day,\n Without a stir, without a sound,\n   Though days be fair, though days be gray.\n\n And yet what power is carried down\n   The conduit through which it runs\n To turn the factories of the town,\n   And flood its streets with blazing suns.\n\n I know some men who are the same.\n   They make no boast with foolish lips,\n But all their spirits are aflame.\n   Power tingles to their finger tips.\n\n\n\n\n \u201cI am not eloquent\u201d (1926)\n\n \u201cI am not eloquent,\u201d he said.\n \u201cI cannot spin of thought\u2019s fine gold\n   A sentence lovely to be read,\n   A story wondrous to be told.\u201d\n   Thus did he answer God one day\n   Upon a new Tiberian shore.\n   And God said, \u201cNo, but you can say\n   The word of love. I ask no more.\u201d\n   And so across the hurried years,\n   Across the mighty land and sea,\n   Through calm and tempest, joy and tears,\n   He bore the message faithfully.\n   He bore it till the set of sun,\n   Until his time and strength were spent.\n   Today the service he has done,\n   Beyond all speech, is eloquent.\n\n\n\n\n Knocking (1926)\n\n THERE\u2019S a sign that always thrills me\n When its pounding threat I hear,\n One that always rudely thrills me\n With the clutching grip of fear.\n Though the thought of it be shocking,\n And the homeward journey long,\n When I hear the engine knocking\n I am certain something\u2019s wrong.\n\n I have known a lot of people,\n High and low, and near and far,\n On the street, beneath the steeple,\n Who were like a motor car.\n Though successes may come flocking,\n And though he be going strong,\n When I hear a person knocking\n I am certain something\u2019s wrong.\n\n\n\n\n Life (1926)\n\n I said to God: \u201cLife is a wine-cup,\n   A thing to be drained while we may;\n And those who can drink it most deeply\n   And emptiest cast it away.\n The ones who have claimed the full measure\n   Of all the joy it can give,\n Are those who have learned most completely\n   What it means to be conscious and live.\u201d\n\n But God said: \u201cNo, life is a picture,\n   A thing you may paint as you will.\n Your colors are of your own choosing,\n   And yours is the measure of skill.\n You may paint, and the curse or the blessing\n   With all of their burden or worth,\n When your brush has been dropped will be treasured\n   As your gift to the children of earth.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n The Question v1926\n\n THE women are cutting their tresses\n To look just the same as the men.\n They have thrown away skirts, and have taken to shirts,\n And collars, and neckties; and then\n The men have begun wearing knickers,\n With hose of elaborate art.\n They radiate bliss, but the problem is this:\n How are we to tell them apart?\n\n One day when I saw a young lady\n Drop a handkerchief, quickly I ran\n And returned it to her with my heart all astir,\n But lo, when I spoke, \u2019twas a man.\n Then I slapped a young man on the shoulder,\n And he turned with a manner most tart.\n \u2019Twas a lady attired as the fashion required.\n Say, how do you tell them apart?\n\n\n\n\n The Rooster (1926)\n\n HE RISES at the break of day,\n Sometimes a little bit before it,\n To tell us that the dawn is gray\n And he is proudly gloating o\u2019er it.\n He makes his boast that nothing\u2019s wrong\n About him or his constitution.\n His voice proclaims with accent strong\n That he\u2019s a going institution.\n\n He has been whipped a hundred times,\n A hundred times run helter-skelter,\n But still his raucous challenge chimes\n As though he\u2019d never sought for shelter.\n He has the courage to arise,\n And sally forth, and be a booster,\n Though gray or sunny be the skies.\n Here\u2019s to the spirit of the rooster.\n\n\n\n\n The Rulers of the Earth (1926)\n\n Jim Jones with a will undivided\n   Toiled on with his reaper and plow.\n He brought up his brood, and provided\n   For them by the sweat of his brow.\n Whenever some plan was in question,\n   In kindly and old-fashioned way\n He gave this unchanging suggestion:\n   \u201cWhatever the women folks say.\u201d\n\n The world with its strife and its glory\n   Goes seeking for treasure and charm.\n The tale of its years is the story\n   Of Jim Jones who toiled on the farm.\n The men wield the shovel and hammer,\n   But if we should ask them the way\n The world should be run, they would stammer:\n   \u201cWhatever the women folks say.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n Sing a Little Song (1926)\n\n When the heart is weary\n And the road is long;\n When the day is dreary,\n Sing a little song.\n Sing it in the spirit;\n Let joy linger near it;\n And your heart will hear it,\n Hear it and be strong.\n\n When your hope is paling,\n When your plans go wrong,\n When your dreams are failing,\n Sing a little song.\n Send it thrilling, winging,\n Sunshine with its bringing.\n It will wake to singing\n Others in the throng.\n\n\n\n\n Team-work (1926)\n\n I take my horses out to plow,\n Or sow, or run the mower.\n One pulls away right down the row,\n One goes a little slower.\n They\u2019ve often taught me in the past,\n Pulling in double leather,\n They only get along as fast\n As both can go together.\n\n In every human progress we\n Together do the striving.\n And toward the better day to be\n Together we are driving.\n By team-work we must win at last,\n Whatever be the weather.\n We only get along as fast\n As all can go together.\n\n[Illustration of a farming scene. Bottom third of frame is landscape.\nThe foreground features a farmer walking behind and controlling a plow\nbeing pulled by two horses. Middle ground has gently rolling hills and\na group of trees. Background has mountains. Upper two-thirds of frame is\nsky with white, billowing clouds. Art piece is signed \u201cMcV\u201d (stands for\nG. R. McVicker).]\n\n\n\n\n Their First Meal (1926)\n\n The ham was cold. The milk was blue,\n   The biscuits all were hard.\n The eggs and the potatoes, too,\n   Were strong with rancid lard.\n Life leaned upon a slender staff\n   In that first offering,\n But never banquet tasted half\n   So pleasant to a king.\n\n The years went by. They played the game,\n   And soon amassed a hoard.\n The richest dainties skill could frame\n   Were found upon their board.\n With choicest viands did they greet\n   The great who chose to come,\n But never did they taste so sweet\n   As that first meal at home.\n\n[The first letter of the poem\u2019s title overlays an illustration of a\nhouse with a front porch.]\n\n\n\n\n The Umbrella Mender (1926)\n\n \u201cHave you any umbrellas to mend?\u201d\n   He cries down the echoing street.\n He travels the town to its end--\n   The city of hurrying feet.\n Why so, when the broad heavens wear\n   No cloud and no shadow of gray?\n Because, when the weather is fair,\n   We must think of the rainy day.\n\n For the rainy season will come,\n   As it has since the world began.\n And some will be ready, and some\n   Will have left it out of their plan.\n When it comes, it is always too late\n   To appeal to our patient old friend.\n We shall not hear his cry at the gate:\n   \u201cHave you any umbrellas to mend?\u201d\n\n\n\n\n The Cross v1927\n Luke 22:42. \u201cNevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.\u201d\n\n Upon some fateful hour and day\n Each comes to roads that cross.\n Blossoms and sunshine seems one way,\n The other care and loss.\n The spirit will be willing there\n To take the road that\u2019s best.\n The flesh will weaken, and despair,\n And falter in the test.\n\n Somewhere along the life we live\n Each finds his Calvary.\n There with himself each one must strive,\n And win his victory.\n How blessed is the pathway trod\n When flesh \u2019neath spirit fails;\n When cross the ways of self and God,\n And God\u2019s good way prevails.\n\n\n\n\n Cupid\u2019s Lament (1927)\n\n The coal oil lamp is now no more,\n With flame to dimness fingered.\n A gleaming chandelier is o\u2019er\n The spot where lovers lingered.\n Where all is bright they will not go.\n No one can change or doubt it.\n They want to sit where lights are low.\n What can I do about it?\n\n It was much easier for me\n In days that now are olden,\n When prying people could not see.\n Then all love\u2019s dreams were golden.\n They sought a corner that the night\n Had curtained--you have seen them;\n But now the dusk-destroying light,\n Alas, has come between them.\n\n\n\n\n A Day at a Time (1927)\n\n A day at a time the world moves on;\n A day at a time is our toiling done;\n A day at a time do we have the dawn,\n And come to the setting of the sun;\n A day at a time our fate appears;\n A day at a time do we build the years.\n A day at a time is the only way;\n Whatever we do must be done to-day.\n\n A day at a time is lifetime sent;\n A day at a time we must be content.\n However distant our dream may glow,\n A day at a time is all we go.\n A day at a time the stones are brought,\n And life\u2019s great mosaic grandly wrought.\n A day at a time--but when all are past\n We shall reach the goal of our dreams at last.\n\n\n\n\n The Future (1927)\n\n A tyrant called, as tyrants used to do,\n An artist, skilled in form, and tint, and line.\n He bade him: \u201cPaint for me a picture true\n Of the tomorrow of this calm of mine.\n Unfold for me the future\u2019s portals wide.\n Unlock the gateway of the years to be.\n Whatever weal or woe they may betide\n Return again and prophesy to me.\u201d\n\n The painter went and sought the open street.\n He lingered there through many a watchful day\n Where sons of wealth and ragged urchins meet\n To talk, and laugh, and sing, and dream, and play.\n Then once again the tyrant\u2019s room he sought,\n Unveiled for him the finished task, and smiled.\n Lo, on the canvas he had deftly wrought\n The pictured features of a little child.\n\n\n\n\n God\u2019s Manners (1927)\n\n If you would learn God\u2019s manners,\n Fare forth some summer morn,\n And see the roses cover\n The sharpness of the thorn.\n See the sun shining brightly,\n Chasing the clouds away,\n And hear the words of gladness\n The little people say.\n\n Look at the green crops growing\n Up through the dewy air,\n And see the love and beauty\n Around you everywhere.\n No ugliness or evil\n Appears in sky or clod.\n Ask any summer morning,\n If you would learn of God.\n\n\n\n\n The Great Adventure (1927)\n\n The great adventure is not death,\n   \u2019Tis life.\n It is to feel the pulsing round of breath,\n   To take a place and hold it in the strife.\n To hope, and plan, and feel, and love, and dream,\n   To look and climb\n To the far, rugged heights where visions gleam\n   Of things sublime.\n Let us not live because we must,\n   But live\n To feel the mighty challenge of a trust,\n   To have a work to do, a gift to give.\n The pay may not be great in shining gold,\n   But may be had\n Enough of satisfactions manifold\n   To make us glad.\n\n\n\n\n The Heart of a Child (1927)\n\n Whatever you write on the heart of a child,\n No waters can wash it away.\n The sands may be shifted when billows are wild\n And the efforts of time may decay.\n Some stories may perish, some songs be forgot;\n But this ingraven record, Time changes it not.\n\n Whatever you write on the heart of a child,\n A story of gladness or care\n That Heaven has blessed, or that Earth has defiled,\n Will linger unchangeably there.\n Who writes it has sealed it forever and aye.\n He must answer to God on the Great Judgement Day.\n\n\n\n\n How It Started (1927)\n\n WHEN Thales of Miletus\n Went to the store one day\n And bought a bit of amber,\n In a real human way\n He got a piece of woolen\n To rub it up a bit,\n And lo, the lint and dust grains\n Were drawn at once to it.\n\n \u201cHa,\u201d said old Thales, \u201c\u2019tis certain,\n A man half blind could see,\n This friction has begotten\n Some unseen energy.\u201d\n To-day that power is doing\n The labor of the earth.\n How much were Thales\u2019s amber\n And piece of woolen worth?\n\n\n\n\n In Conference (1927)\n\n JOHN JONES was head executive of a big city firm,\n And countless times had set his heel on some poor human worm.\n His office force was duly trained. Each knew just what to do\n To turn the nonelect away, and let the chosen through.\n\n People with honest errands there, tired women, busy men,\n Were told he was in conference, and couldn\u2019t see them then.\n \u201cCome back a little later on,\u201d the office girl would call,\n And John would manage not to see the most of them at all.\n\n He passed away in course of time, as even rich men do,\n And came up to the pearly gates as though to hurry through.\n But lo, the way was firmly barred, and, sitting in a chair,\n He saw a white-robed office girl who asked his errand there.\n\n \u201cI hoped,\u201d said he, \u201cSaint Peter would be here and let me by.\u201d\n In standard office language she delivered this reply:\n \u201cSaint Peter is in conference. How long? I do not know.\n Come back a little later--say a million years or so.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n Inventive Genius (1927)\n\n I\u2019VE listed the inventions\n Since ages far away,\n And noted the discoveries\n Down to the present day.\n One little thing I\u2019ve noticed,\n Thus far, of every one.\n It\u2019s really very simple\n --When you see how it is done.\n\n Somebody finds a secret\n That no one else has seen,\n Harnesses laws familiar,\n And makes a new machine.\n There\u2019s not a task among them\n Requiring so much wit,\n But that I could have done it\n --Had I but thought of it.\n\n\n\n\n Morning Prayer (1927)\n\n Father, grant to keep and guide me\n Through the moments of the day.\n Let me know Thou art beside me,\n That no evil can betide me\n In my work or play.\n\n Teach my hands some good endeavor\n While the golden hours shall run,\n Something that will last forever\n Let me bring to Thee, the Giver,\n E\u2019er the day is done.\n\n When at last the sun is wending\n Down the sloping West,\n And the evening shades descending\n Tell the world the day is ending,\n Watch above my rest.\n\n\n\n\n Old-Fashioned Pictures (1927)\n\n The old plush-covered album\n Upon the parlor stand\n Is but a distant country,\n A half-forgotten land\n Inhabited by people\n Strong as the sturdy oaks,\n Firm as the hills they conquered,\n --The dear old-fashioned folks.\n\n Look at the honest faces,\n The quaint and homely dress,\n The strained and studied postures\n That once spelled loveliness.\n Look at the solemn features.\n They put away their jokes\n To have their pictures taken\n --The dear old-fashioned folks.\n\n They carved trails through the forests.\n They seeded down the soil.\n They built the busy cities\n By unremitting toil.\n They laid the firm foundations,\n By honest, manly strokes,\n On which we build the future.\n --The dear old-fashioned folks.\n\n\n\n\n The Problem (1927)\n\n THOU God of little children,\n And Parent of us all,\n Who knowest all our struggles,\n And hearest every call,\n Disclose to us the secret,\n And tell us what to do\n To keep our children little\n And have them grow up, too.\n\n We treasure the devotion,\n The little velvet hands,\n The tender little greetings\n Love always understands;\n And yet we want them coming\n To strength and prospects new.\n How can we keep them little\n And have them grow up, too?\n\n[Illustration of a young girl looking at a distant castle. She\u2019s\nstanding next to a tree that frames the right and top. Her feet, in\nheels, stand in the midst of scattered leaves. Her skirt and scarf wave\nin the breeze coming from the castle\u2019s direction. The middle ground is\nrolling hills. The sky behind the castle has billowing clouds. Art\npiece is signed \u201cHarvey Fuller.\u201d]\n\n\n\n\n The Pupil (1927)\n\n A father\u2019s highest vision,\n A mother\u2019s fondest prayer\n Are centered in the future\n Of that wee fellow there.\n They roused him from his slumber,\n And dressed him in his best.\n They sent him out, and trusted\n That you would do the rest.\n\n The weary planet needs him,\n And patiently will wait\n For him to bring his service\n Down to the future\u2019s gate.\n He is the hope it treasures.\n It wants him strong and true.\n It sends him to your classroom,\n And leaves the rest to you.\n\n\n\n\n Requisition (1927)\n\n Give me a quiet road to take\n Where roses deign to grow.\n Where sunbeams fall, and robins wake,\n And trees their shadows throw.\n\n Give me a little place to try\n To do my human part,\n And make my work as days go by\n A picture of my heart.\n\n Give me a hearth where I may be\n When twilight shrouds the West,\n With dear ones there to sit with me,\n And you may have the rest.\n\n\n\n\n Sanctuary (1927)\n\n GOD has a place, and it is never far,\n   Where reach vast arches over golden gates,\n Where quiet aisles and vaulted ceilings are,\n   And where a spacious altar always waits;\n A place where weary souls may freely come,\n   Hearts torn by earth\u2019s sharp thorns a refuge find,\n Sad, lonely spirits feel again at home,\n   And all find rest and balm for heart and mind.\n\n It is a house of walls not made with hands.\n   None sees it save the broken child of care.\n In every place of woe and need it stands,\n   Wherever sorrow dares to breathe a prayer.\n The weakest, poorest, farthest spirit, tried\n   By grim pursuers of defeat and pain,\n May claim its shelter. Then when tears are dried\n   It waits in silence till they fall again.\n\n\n\n\n The Secret (1927)\n\n OLD Uncle John is a success,\n And all his efforts have not hit it.\n One day we asked him to confess,\n To all of us just how he did it.\n \u201cI hardly know, myself,\u201d said he,\n \u201cBut my conviction still is growing,\n That there\u2019s no fancy recipe.\n You just begin--and keep on going.\u201d\n\n \u201cDon\u2019t wait for things to come just right,\n For very seldom do they do it.\n Select a road, then day and night,\n Through storm and sunshine, still pursue it.\n Don\u2019t stand debating what is best.\n The sands of life are swiftly flowing.\n Most any worthy course is blest,\n If you begin--and keep on going.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n Sight and Faith (1927)\n\n I WALKED by sight along the sunlit way,\n Through pleasant fields and where the flow\u2019rs were fair.\n By quiet streams, through restful vales it lay,\n And loveliness and joy were everywhere.\n I walked by sight, so confident my soul,\n Nor dreamed that it would ever diff\u2019rent be,\n As I moved onward to the shining goal\n That through the distance seemed so clear to me.\n\n But lo, there came the hour when dusk increased,\n And sunset slowly faded into night,\n As hour by hour the strength of vision ceased,\n And I no more could make my way by sight.\n But when the day had failed to shadows dim,\n Without a star to lend a flickering ray,\n I took God\u2019s hand and travelled on with Him,\n And sudden glory flooded all my way.\n\n\n\n\n Starting Things (1927)\n\n THE ghost of Father Gutenberg\n Came back upon a visit.\n He saw a modern printing press,\n And cried, \u201cGood sakes, what is it?\u201d\n He saw a linotype at work\n On endless composition,\n And said, \u201cIt must be that my mind\n Is not in good condition.\u201d\n\n He heard the newsboys hawk their wares,\n And saw the bookstores busy,\n Found magazines on every stand\n Until it made him dizzy.\n He said, \u201cWhoever could have thought\n All this I was imparting?\n One never guesses, after all,\n How much he may be starting.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n Success (1927)\n\n SUCCESS is not the garnering of gold\n Wrung from the failing grasp of nerveless hands,\n Nor grim advantage where are bought and sold\n The cargoes of the fleets from distant lands.\n It is not deafness to the anguished cry\n Of blighting poverty or bitter need,\n Nor a triumphal march to victory\n Over pale lips and human hearts that bleed.\n\n Success is living to the full each hour,\n Finding the richness of the joy it brings,\n Leaving unheard no song, unseen no flower,\n Unfelt no throbbing loveliness of things.\n Success is soothing human hearts that ache\n Breathing new hope into despairing ears,\n Serving with willing hands for love\u2019s dear sake,\n And sowing happiness across the years.\n\n\n\n\n The Bantams (1928)\n\n We have got a bantam rooster with a funny little face,\n And he tells us by his swagger that he thinks he owns the place.\n He will lord it o\u2019er the chickens with a mien and manner high,\n And the strangest thing about it is he generally gets by.\n We have Brahams, Rocks, and Cochins--big and strong and robust, all;\n But they let this bantam run the place because he has the gall.\n Big and lazy and good-natured, they seek out a shady spot,\n Nor dispute the bold assumption of his right to rule the lot.\n\n And sometimes I think the whole world is a barnyard, wide and vast.\n With the selfsame situation, as the ages hurry past.\n People big and strong and able take the smooth and easy way,\n While the fussy little fellows feather in and win the day.\n Singular, at least, I call it that so oft the crown is worn.\n By some self-elected demagogue, so oft the scepter borne,\n Not by some one with the vision a commanding swath to cut,\n But some cocky little bantam who was born to preen and strut.\n\n\n\n\n Charge Account (1928)\n\n YOU may think you are getting by. You may get by awhile.\n But do not snap your fingers in the face of Fate and smile.\n Although she may not now demand of you the full amount,\n Some day you will discover that she keeps a charge account.\n\n She never quarrels with us nor bestows unseemly looks,\n But no one ever yet has found an error in her books.\n She writes down every item very quietly, but still\n There certainly will come a day when she presents her bill.\n\n She asks no more than is her due, for Fate is always square.\n No tradesman yet in all the world has ever been more fair.\n Good business methods, that is all. There is no other way.\n You may get by awhile, my friend, but some day you will pay.\n\n\n\n\n The Close-Up (1928)\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n There are many angel faces,\n Viewed from places far away,\n Which, upon a near vision,\n Very quickly turn to clay.\n There are many matchless heroes\n Who can hold us in their spell,\n But who fade away to weakness\n When we really know them well.\n\n There are many hissing villians\n Who, on closer view, are found\n To possess a kindly spirit\n And an honor quite profound.\n So it runs throughout the picture,\n As it probably is best,\n That the close-up tells the story\n Whether one can meet the test.\n\n\n\n\n Coming and Going (1928)\n\n I GO down when the train comes in,\n   No matter what the day,\n Where some arrive amid the din,\n   And others go away.\n\n I see glad faces looking down\n   The track that rambles on\n Far from the quiet little town,\n   Impatient to be gone.\n\n But oh, the eyes most full of mirth\n   I see upon the train\n Have seen the wonders of the earth\n   And then come home again.\n\n Blest is the road that leads away\n   Where restless ones may roam;\n But each loves best of all, one day,\n   The road that leads back home.\n\n Ambition makes us all to dare\n   The far, intriguing track;\n But when we\u2019ve had enough of care\n   The heart will bring us back.\n\n\n\n\n The Day\u2019s Success (1928)\n\n When sunset falls upon your day\n   And fades from out the West.\n When business cares are put away\n   And you lie down to rest,\n The measures of the day\u2019s success\n   Or failure will be told\n In terms of human happiness\n   And not in terms of gold.\n\n Is there beside some hearth tonight\n   More joy because you wrought?\n Does someone face the bitter strife\n   With courage you have taught?\n Is something added to the store\n   Of human happiness?\n If so, the day that now is o\u2019er\n   Has been a real success.\n\n\n\n\n The Earth\u2019s Plaint (1928)\n\n From ages immemorial they\u2019ve scratched my patient face\n With plow, and pick, and shovel, in all confidence and grace.\n They\u2019ve dug their springs, and sunk their wells, and made their post holes, too,\n Wherever it has pleased their passing fancy so to do.\n But here of late they seem to feel that more is wrong with me\n Than to the specialists who came at first there seemed to be.\n They\u2019ve stopped the minor surgery--it seemed to be too light\n --And started on a major scale to set my system right.\n\n They sink a shaft a solid mile through rock, and sand, and clay.\n They go right into it with drills and bore the livelong day.\n They cut a tunnel through a hill, and make the two ends fit.\n They chop away as though they thought it didn\u2019t hurt a bit.\n They change the course of rivers and the shape of waterfalls.\n They dig deep excavations for their bridges and their walls.\n A major operation of some kind has come to be\n A kind of daily diet, in these latter days, with me.\n\n[Poem is surrounded by photos of earth-working equipment in action\naround the world (clockwise from top-right corner): Egypt, New Zealand,\nFormosa, Chile, Rhodesia, Sicily, Dutch East Indies, Honduras, Ireland,\nNigeria, India, and U.S.A.]\n\n\n\n\n Evolution (1928)\n\n A shining automobile\n   Was standing at the curb.\n A glib and crafty salesman\n   Was handing out his blurb.\n A bicycle was leaning\n   Its well-worn handle bar\n Against a post--the early\n   Ancestor of the car.\n\n Then, snorting down the pavement,\n   A motorcycle flew,\n Pausing between the cycle\n   And car so bright and new.\n \u201cAha,\u201d the auto whispered,\n   \u201cI have evolved, I think,\n From that bicycle yonder,\n   And here\u2019s the missing link.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n Faith v1928\n\n If you cast out\n   Into the outer darkness of your mind\n All about which you can conceive a doubt,\n Or find some strange and vain excuse to flout,\n   Or charge to ages credulous and blind,\n All about which the whole world is not sure,\n My friend, you will be pitifully poor.\n\n If your faith clings\n   To all the good, and beautiful, and right,\n That the experience of ages brings,\n And offers as the necessary things\n   That stand forever by truth\u2019s simple might,\n Believing each till it is found untrue,\n The heart\u2019s unmeasured riches are for you.\n\n\n\n\n Freedom v1928\n\n Freedom to make the sturdy climb\n From sodden depths to heights sublime;\n Freedom to seek Truth\u2019s ready aid\n In mastering a chosen trade;\n Freedom to play an honest part,\n And make some worthy work an art;\n Freedom to struggle with a smile--\n That is the freedom worth the while.\n\n Freedom to keep a heart that sings\n Amid the fret and drive of things;\n Freedom to serve with heart, and mind,\n And hand, the races of mankind;\n Freedom to meet the fiercest test\n Knowing that one has done his best;\n Freedom to trudge the upward mile--\n That is the freedom worth the while.\n\n\n\n\n The Harness (1928)\n\n \u201cWhat means all this mass of wiring?\u201d\n Asked the visitor from Mars.\n \u201cWe have nothing that is like it\n In our section of the stars.\n All these conduits and cables,\n This machinery that sings\n With its whirring wheels and motors\n --What have they to do with things?\u201d\n\n \u201cVery much,\u201d the earth-child answered.\n \u201cWe\u2019ve a giant, all unseen,\n Who serves every little household,\n Every factory and machine,\n Does our work, transports our people,\n Friendship\u2019s kindly message bears.\n All this wiring you have noted\n Is the harness that he wears.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n His Great Hour (1928)\n\n He headed the procession\n On many a parade.\n He heard the ringing echoes\n Where loud applause was made.\n But naught has ever equalled\n The time in early youth\n When first his folks discovered\n That he had cut a tooth.\n\n He published learned volumes\n And speeches made galore.\n He traveled and was feted\n The land and ocean o\u2019er.\n But never was the hero\n So praised and sung, forsooth,\n As on that vanished midnight\n When first he cut a tooth.\n\n[Illustration of a heart overlaid with a young child. The child sits\nwith legs straight out in front, right hand near mouth, and left hand\nholding what appears to be a rattle.]\n\n\n\n\n \u201cI held a sea shell to my ears\u201d (1928)\n\n I held a sea shell to my ears\n A little while today,\n And heard the echo of the years\n Sounding from far away.\n I heard ten thousand soft good-byes\n To hearts that needs must roam,\n Ten thousand weekly muffled cries\n For ships that came not home.\n\n I heard the story of the dreams\n Of those who journeyed far,\n But brought not back Wealth\u2019s shining gleams\n To the home harbor bar.\n I heard the story of the brave\n Who Freedom\u2019s burdens bore,\n Who fought their battles on the wave\n But struggle now no more.\n\n\n\n\n Imminence (1928)\n\n Like to the circuit of a bright day\u2019s glory,\n   Like to a shadow moving on the grass,\n Like to the telling of an evening story,\n   God\u2019s purposes all shortly come to pass.\n\n Like to the nearness of a dewdrop\u2019s brushing,\n   Like to the nearness of a breath of May,\n Like to the nearness of a wind uprushing,\n   God\u2019s promised kingdom is not far away.\n\n Like to the vastness of the stars\u2019 swift motion,\n   Like to the vastness of the course they swing,\n Like to the vastness of a shoreless ocean,\n   God\u2019s love is here enfolding everything.\n\n\n\n\n Iron (1928)\n\n A piece of iron was refined\n By highest skill of hand and mind,\n To steel that formed the keenest blade,\n Or instruments of wonder made,\n Or strings awaking symphonies\n From far across the centuries.\n\n Another piece lay dull and dead\n As days of hope and wonder sped.\n It felt no prompting of desire\n For the refiner\u2019s purging fire.\n Passive it lay, nor ever wist\n The thrill and gladness it had missed.\n\n I speak no word of praise or blame.\n I only say it is a shame\n That metal, made for wondrous things,\n Keen instruments, responsive strings,\n Should be, its aspiration spent,\n Arrested in development.\n\n\n\n\n I Want (1928)\n\n I WANT a deep mine where the gold knows no measure,\n   A house with the widest and rarest of rooms,\n Replete with the objects of beauty and pleasure,\n   With tapestries done on the finest of looms.\n I want a great fleet that will compass the ocean,\n   And bring me the choicest of all the world\u2019s store.\n I want a cortege, with the deepest devotion\n   Performing my bidding, my wishes--and more.\n\n I want a position of pow\u2019r and of splendor,\n   An empire to rule with the will of a king.\n I want the rich tribute that vassals can render,\n   The praise that the lips of the loyal can bring.\n I want earth\u2019s delights without limit or curbing,\n   The richest that skill can conceive or design.\n One question alone is a little disturbing--\n   Just what shall I do with them when they are mine?\n\n\n\n\n The Lucky Man (1928)\n\n He struggled on and upward,\n    Impelled by high ambition.\n He bent his strongest efforts\n    To better his condition.\n He paid the price of labor,\n    As others had before him.\n A rich and bounteous harvest\n    His earnest efforts bore him.\n\n Two loafers were exchanging\n    Their shallow talk one morning,\n Their conversation ranging\n    From filthiness to scorning.\n He passed. One said: \u201cThere\u2019s Sweezy.\n    My way was always rocky.\n But some folks have it easy.\n    That fellow sure is lucky.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n Success and Failure (1928)\n\n Whoever builds a mighty name\n And fills the country with his fame,\n Who seeks and uses earthly power\n To make a stately triumph hour,\n Who rears a mansion rich and high\n To frown against the kindly sky,\n If he has not found happiness\n Is still a failure none the less.\n\n Whoever dwells in humble walls\n Where only toilsome care befalls,\n Who plans when dear ones are in bed\n Where shall be found to-morrow\u2019s bread,\n To cheer whose heart Life only brings\n The humble joy of simple things,\n If happiness has crowned his name,\n He is successful just the same.\n\n\n\n\n The Trouble with the Movies (1928)\n [Transcriber\u2019s note: All verses are italicized.]\n\n The trouble with the movies,\n As it appears to me,\n Is not what the wise people\n About me seem to see.\n But I do raise objection\n In accents bold and high\n To one outstanding evil\n The waste of custard pie.\n\n If all that precious pastry\n Thrown with such ready grace,\n Such technique and precision,\n At some poor fellow\u2019s face,\n Were gathered all together\n For my convenience, I\n Would just retire from labor\n And live on custard pie.\n\n\n\n\n Walking with God (1928)\n\n WHO walks with God must take his way\n Across far distances and gray\n To goals that others do not see,\n Where others do not care to be.\n Who walks with God must have no fear\n When danger and defeat appear,\n Nor stop when every hope seems gone,\n For God, our God, moves ever on.\n\n Who walks with God must press ahead\n When sun or cloud is overhead,\n When all the waiting thousands cheer,\n Or when they only stop to sneer;\n When all the challenge leaves the hours\n And naught is left but jaded powers.\n But he will some day reach the dawn,\n For God, our God, moves ever on.\n\n\n\n\n Wander Lust (1928)\n\n \u201cI want to go away somewhere,\u201d\n Cries every human heart of care.\n \u201cI want to go across the sea,\n And find a place where hearts are free.\n I want to look at bluer skies,\n And stand where higher mountains rise.\n To tropic scene, to arctic snow,\n I want to go, I want to go.\u201d\n\n And so we take our varied ways\n Across the miles and through the days.\n We see the wonders of the earth.\n We share its sorrow and its mirth.\n Time sends its snows upon our hair.\n We stumble with our loads of care.\n Then one day sounds a broken cry:\n \u201cPlease, won\u2019t you take me home to die?\u201d\n\n\n\n\n The Divine Image (1929)\n\n Something within me makes me love the roses;\n   Something within me makes me search the sky;\n Something within me makes me roam the meadows;\n   The woodlands where the trees are still and high.\n Something within me makes me sit at twilight\n   Enraptured with the starlight on the sod;\n Something within me thrills at lovely music,\n   That something in me makes me kin to God.\n\n Something within me makes me like the brothers\n   Who share with me the path that I must tread;\n Something within me wakens hope and longing\n   To struggle on to summits far ahead.\n Something within me keeps me ever dreaming\n   Of heavenly things amid the thorn and clod;\n Something within me speaks of light and beauty,\n   That something in me makes me kin to God.\n\n\n\n\n Domsie (1929)\n\n Simple his habit, plain his wonted ration,\n Humble the roof that sheltered him at night.\n He sought no preferment of rank or station,\n Save but to be a bearer of the light.\n He dreamed out futures for the boys before him,\n And led them ever onward toward the goal.\n The heights they won the choicest gladness bore him\n Whose faces were enshrined within his soul.\n\n In many a countryside and distant city\n Were lived strong lives to which the light he gave.\n Strong hearts beat and strong hands were reached in pity\n He taught to bless, to brighten, and to save.\n Upon a quiet hillside he is sleeping,\n Content to rest, the final school day o\u2019er,\n But everywhere his boys the faith are keeping.\n They hold his torch aloft forevermore.\n\n\n\n\n The Happy Ending (1929)\n\n I LIKE to read a stirring tale of peril and of action.\n I follow every character with heartfelt satisfaction.\n If, truth and error, right and wrong, defeat and triumph blending,\n The story rambles steadily toward a happy ending.\n\n No matter what vicissitudes the hero strong engages,\n No matter how the conflict runs across the crowded pages,\n If at the close all comes out right, with every wrong defeated,\n Each happy dream at last come true, each worthy task completed.\n\n They tell me it is not the style in these days so to write it.\n The proper thing, they say, is with a smirch of wrong to blight it,\n To leave the tears unwiped, the wrong unrighted, and the error\n Unbanished in the general reign of trouble and of terror.\n\n But I still have the faith to cling to childhood\u2019s deep conviction\n That somehow justice does get done in life as well as fiction,\n That there is more of right than wrong, of pleasure than of weeping,\n And that a kindly Providence still has us in its keeping.\n\n I think when all the years are through the world\u2019s heart will be singing,\n That bells of bounding happiness will everywhere be ringing,\n And the great Author of the tale of life, His mercy lending,\n Will bring the story of the world down to a happy ending.\n\n[Illustration of an armored knight riding a galloping horse and holding\na woman seated in front of him. The knight\u2019s right hand holds a long\nstaff tipped with a small flag, while his left hand secures the woman.\nHis cape flaps in the wind. The horse is dressed with coverings from\nhead to hind quarters. They are centered in the frame with a billowing\ncloud rising behind them. The lower-right part of the frame has nearby\nvegetation. The upper-left part has a castle on a hill a small distance\naway. The artwork has a printed signature, but the stylized last letter\nof the last name is uncertain; an \u201cR\u201d would complete the name \u201cStanley\nHunter.\u201d]\n\n\n\n\n Have You Tried? (1929)\n\n Are you sure you cannot do it?\n Are you really satisfied\n That you never can go through it?\n Have you tried?\n\n Do a thousand doubts assail you\n With their darts from every side\n Till your hope and courage fail you?\n Have you tried?\n\n Have you ceased to dream of winning?\n Have your expectations died?\n Have you really had your inning?\n Have you tried?\n\n\n\n\n Memorial Day v1929\n Exodus 12:14. \u201cAnd this day shall be unto you for a memorial.\u201d\n\n Their drums are still. Their banners all are furled.\n   They feel no more the battle\u2019s fiery breath.\n Theirs is the vastest army in the world,\n   Encamped upon the silent fields of death.\n\n Of peace and happiness they paid the price.\n   Their Via Dolorosa did they tread.\n They climbed the Calvary of sacrifice,\n   And found a place among the mighty dead.\n\n The years roll on, but as they pass away\n   Let not this tender memory grow old.\n By the sweet, smiling blossoms of the May\n   Let their fair story be forever told.\n\n\n\n\n The Modern Pupil (1929)\n\n I\u2019ve had a new school teacher\n Now for a week or two.\n She seems to be quite clever,\n And knows her subject, too.\n She\u2019s pleasant and attractive,\n As far as I can tell.\n There\u2019s just one trouble with her.\n She doesn\u2019t mind me well.\n\n In fact, she has a notion,\n Saved from a former day,\n That things about the schoolroom\n Should go the other way.\n And so the one objection\n That any one could find\n Is insubordination.\n I cannot make her mind.\n\n\n\n\n My Little Fire (1929)\n\n My little fire is cheerful,\n Unchanging in its grace.\n Whatever be the weather,\n It keeps a shining face.\n\n It always has a welcome\n For such as seek its hearth,\n Afar from all the struggles\n And strivings of the earth.\n\n It seems so understanding.\n When ill has gone the day\n And I recount my troubles,\n It laughs them all away.\n\n So I forget the fever\n Of false and vain desire,\n And find that life is blessed\n Beside my little fire.\n\n[Illustration of a man seated in front of hearth. He\u2019s dressed in suit\nand tie, smiling, and bent forward resting his elbows on his thighs.\nThe left hand holds long tongs pointed at the fire, and his chin rests\nin his right hand. The hearth\u2019s grate has two owl-shaped decorations,\nand a log carrier with extra logs sits nearby. A plant is on the\nmantle. The background has a window--drape open--decorated with a\nwreath. A candelabrum with five lit candles is in front of the window,\nand both ends are flanked by a candlestick with a lit candle. The\nartist\u2019s cursive signature makes the name uncertain.]\n\n\n\n\n Thankfulness (1929)\n\n I HEARD a tiny sound to-day.\n The flowers all had stopped to pray.\n Lily, and rose, and goldenrod\n And violet were thanking God.\n For what? The sun, and rain, and dew,\n That had not failed the season through,\n The soil, the winds with their caress;\n And simple daily happiness.\n\n I blushed, whose thought had found no wings\n To thank God for the simple things.\n No sudden fortune had bestowed\n On me a rich and golden load.\n But I had known the rain, the sun,\n Shelter and rest when day was done,\n Raiment, and food, and happy hours.\n I was less thankful than the flowers.\n\n\n\n\n \u201cWhatever he may wish or plan\u201d (1929)\n\n Whatever he may wish or plan,\n Three things will make or break a man:\n The work to which he gives his hand,\n To make a living in the land.\n The friends to whom his heart gives toll,\n Whose shadows fall across his soul.\n The goal by which through toil and strife\n He gives direction to his life.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX 1: BYLINES, BIBLIOGRAPHY, NOTES\n\n\nAfter-Images. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion Picture\n    Magazine_. Vol. 23 No. 6. Jamaica, NY: Brewster Publications, Inc.,\n    Jul 1922. p. 7. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nThe Age of a Heart. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal\n    Efficiency_. Vol. 15 No. 1. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University,\n    Jan 1925. p. 37. Note: Illustrated dropped initial in first verse\n    normalized for e-readers.\n\nAlmost. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Princeton, Ind. Source: _The\n    Christian Advocate_. Vol. 97 No. 39. New York: The Methodist Book\n    Concern, Sep 28, 1922. p. 1211\n\nAlong the Road. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Miami Daily\n    Metropolis_. Vol. 27 No. 161. Miami, FL: Metropolis Publishing Co.,\n    Jun 17, 1922. p. 6\n\nThe Bantams. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Northwest Poultry\n    Journal_. Vol. 33 No. 6. Salem, OR: Northwest Poultry Journal\n    Publishing Co., Jun 1928. p. 15. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from\n    all caps.\n\nBattle Hymn. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Western Christian\n    Advocate_. Vol. 80 No. 17. Cincinnati: Methodist Book Concern,\n    Apr 29, 1914. p. 524\n\nBrotherhood. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Boys\u2019 World_.\n    Vol. 23 No. 12. Elgin, IL: David C. Cook Publishing Co., Mar 22,\n    1924. p. 4. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps and its period\n    removed.\n\nThe Builder v1924. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Juvenile\n    Instructor_. Vol. 59 No. 8. Salt Lake City: Deseret Sunday School\n    Union, Aug 1924. p. 411. Note: Stanzas\u2019 original layout of \n    side-by-side is presented in this compilation as follows: left\n    stanza as first stanza, right as second.\n\nThe Builders. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Sunday School\n    Journal_. Vol. 53 No. 8. Cincinnati: The Methodist Book Concern,\n    Aug 1921. Cover page\n\nThe Chameleon. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Commonweal_.\n    Vol. 5 No. 4. New York: Calvert Publishing Corp., Dec 1, 1926.\n    p. 105\n\nCharge Account. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal\n    Efficiency_. Vol. 18 No. 1. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University,\n    Jan 1928. p. 7. Note: Dropped initial in first verse normalized\n    for e-readers.\n\nChildhood on the Farm. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Hoard\u2019s\n    Dairyman_. Vol. 67 No. 9. Fort Atkinson, WI: W. D. Hoard & Sons Co.,\n    Mar 14, 1924. p. 332\n\nThe Children v1921. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Christian\n    Herald_. Vol. 44 No. 32. New York: Christian Herald, Aug 6, 1921.\n    p. 546. Notes: 1) Dropped initial in first verse normalized for\n    e-readers, 2) Extra spaces in body of poem were deleted.\n\nThe Children v1925. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The\n    Pathfinder_. Vol. 32 No. 1668. Washington D.C.: Pathfinder\n    Publishing Co., Dec 19, 1925. p. 21. Note: Title\u2019s case changed\n    from all caps.\n\nChild\u2019s Prayer. Byline: Clarence Edwin Flynn. Richmond, Ind. Source:\n    _The Epworth Era. _Vol. 17 No. 32. Chicago: Jennings & Graham,\n    Jan 5, 1907. p. 830. Note: Stanzas\u2019 original layout of 2x2 is\n    presented in this compilation as follows: top-left stanza as first\n    stanza, bottom-left as second, top-right as third and bottom-right\n    as fourth.\n\nThe City\u2019s Nerves. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Edison\n    Monthly_. Vol. 18 No. 6. New York: The New York Edison Co.,\n    Jun 1926. p. 143\n\nClimaxes v1921. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion Picture\n    Magazine_. Vol. 22 No. 11. Jamaica, NY: Brewster Publications, Inc.,\n    Dec 1921. p. 93. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nClimaxes v1923. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion Picture\n    Magazine_. Vol. 26 No. 1. Jamaica, NY: Brewster Publications, Inc.,\n    Aug 1923. pp. 41, 86. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nThe Clock. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Beacon_. Vol. 14\n    No. 26. Boston: The Beacon Press, Inc., Mar 30, 1924. p. 111. Note:\n    Dropped initial in first verse normalized for e-readers.\n\nThe Close-Up. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Movie Makers_. Vol. 3\n    No. 6. New York: Amateur Cinema League, Inc., Jun 1928. p. 397.\n    Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps and its period removed.\n\nComing and Going. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _New York Central\n    Lines Magazine_. Vol. 9 No. 3. New York: New York Central Lines,\n    Jun 1928. p. 14. Note: Dropped initial in first verse normalized\n    for e-readers.\n\nCompensation. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Princeton, Ind. Source:\n    _The Christian Advocate_. Vol. 97 No. 41. New York: The Methodist\n    Book Concern, Oct 12, 1922. p. 1273\n\nThe Creator. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Sedalia Democrat_.\n    Vol. 17 No. 40. Sedalia, MO: Sedalia Democrat Co., Feb 15, 1923.\n    p. 2. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps and its\n    period removed.\n\nCredo. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _North Carolina Christian\n    Advocate_. Vol. 70 No. 46. Greensboro, NC: Nov 12, 1925. p. 8.\n    Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nA Creed. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Christian Century_.\n    Vol. 39 No. 7. Chicago: Disciples Publication Society, Feb 16 1922.\n    p.200\n\nThe Cross v1927. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Expositor_.\n    Vol. 28 No. 6. Cleveland: F. M. Barton Co., Mar 1927. p. 710.\n    Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nThe Cry of a Human. Byline: Clarence Flynn. Source: _Richmond Daily\n    Palladium_. Richmond, IN: Palladium Printing Co., Mar 5, 1906. p. 3.\n    Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps and its period removed.\n\nCupid\u2019s Lament. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Edison\n    Monthly_. Vol. 19 No. 5. New York: The New York Edison Co.,\n    May 1927. p. 105. Note: Stanzas\u2019 original layout of side-by-side is\n    presented in this compilation as follows: left stanza as first\n    stanza, right as second.\n\nA Day at a Time. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Sanford\n    Herald_. Vol. 17 No. 20. Sanford, FL: Apr 7, 1927. p. 4. Note:\n    Duplicate \u201cat\u201d (A day at at time) in second verse replaced\n    with \u201ca\u201d.\n\nThe Day\u2019s Success. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Carp\n    Review_. Vol. 24 No. 30. Carp, Ontario: James A. Evoy, Aug 16, 1928.\n    p. 8. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps and its period\n    removed, 2) Apostrophe removed from \u201cmeasure\u2019s\u201d in fifth verse,\n    3) Comma removed after \u201cfailure\u201d in sixth verse.\n\nThe Divine Image. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Grade\n    Teacher_. Vol. 46 No. 9. Boston: Educational Publishing Corp.,\n    May 1929. p. 745\n\nDoing It Well. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Child Welfare\n    Magazine_. Vol. 20 No. 7. Philadelphia: The Child Welfare Co., Inc.,\n    Mar 1926. p. 438. Notes: 1) Dropped initial in first verse\n    normalized for e-readers, 2) E-readers might not correctly present\n    \u201csaw\u201d in first verse with small caps, which is used for emphasis.\n\nDomsie. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The American School Board\n    Journal_. Vol. 78 No. 2. Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing Co., Feb 1929.\n    p. 174. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps, 2) The poem\n    might be referring to a character in Ian Maclaren\u2019s _Beside the\n    Bonnie Brier Bush_ (1894).\n\nThe Dream. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Bloomington, Ind. Source:\n    _Christian Advocate_. Vol. 85 No. 44. Nashville: Lamar & Barton,\n    Oct 31, 1924. p. 1388. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps and\n    its period removed.\n\nThe Earth\u2019s Plaint. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Excavating\n    Engineer_. Vol. 22 No. 6. Milwaukee: The Excavating Engineer\n    Publishing Co., Jun 1928. p. 212. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from\n    all caps.\n\nAn Easter Vision. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Sedalia\n    Democrat_. Vol. 17 No. 98. Sedalia, MO: Sedalia Democrat Co.,\n    Apr 23, 1924. p. 2. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps\n    and its period removed, 2) Two-space indentation of second stanza\u2019s\n    first verse was deleted.\n\nElectricity. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Edison Monthly_.\n    Vol. 15 No. 5. New York: The New York Edison Co., May 1923. p. 107\n\nAn Electric Personality. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Edison\n    Monthly_. Vol. 15 No. 7. New York: The New York Edison Co.,\n    Jul 1923. p. 148\n\nThe Electric Spark. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Beacon_.\n    Vol. 14 No. 23. Boston: The Beacon Press, Inc., Mar 9, 1924. p. 99.\n    Note: Dropped initial in first verse normalized for e-readers.\n\nThe End of the Trail. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Liahona: The\n    Elders\u2019 Journal_. Vol. 21 No. 3. Independence, MO: Zion\u2019s Printing\n    and Publishing Co., Jul 31, 1923. p. 49. [Published earlier in\n    _Oakland Tribune_ (May 31, 1923) but without a title and partly\n    illegible.] Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps and its\n    period removed.\n\nThe Engineer. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _New York Central\n    Lines Magazine_. Vol. 3 No. 9. New York: New York Central Lines Co.,\n    Dec 1922. p. 55. Note: Dropped initial in first verse normalized\n    for e-readers.\n\nEnslaved Lightning. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Edison\n    Monthly_. Vol. 18 No. 7. New York: The New York Edison Co.,\n    Jul 1926. p. 167\n\nEvolution. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _American Motorcyclist\n    and Bicyclist_. Vol. 24 No. 11. New York City: The Cycling Press\n    Inc., Nov 1928. p. 27. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nThe Fabulous City. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Commercial Law\n    League Journal_. Vol. 30 No. 1. Chicago: Commercial Law League of\n    America, Jan 1925. p. 29. Notes: 1) Editor prefaces the poem under\n    the section title, \u201cFORTUNES MADE IN OIL\u201d: \u201cThe arrest, trial,\n    conviction and commitment to the penitentiary of the super oil\n    swindler, Leo Koretz, calls to our mind the following poem:\u201d,\n    2) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nFade-Outs. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion Picture\n    Magazine_. Vol. 26 No. 6. Jamaica, NY: Brewster Publications, Inc.,\n    Jan 1924. p. 84. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nFaith v1928. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Congregationalist_.\n    Vol. 113 No. 5. Boston: Congregational Publishing Society, Feb 2,\n    1928. p. 142\n\nFilm Judgment. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion Picture\n    Magazine_. Vol. 27 No. 5. Jamaica, NY: Brewster Publications, Inc.,\n    Jun 1924. p. 109. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nFinding God. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Freeman\u2019s Journal_.\n    Vol. 74. Sydney, Australia: Herbert Daniel Polin, Oct 2, 1924. p. 3.\n    Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps and its period removed.\n\nThe Firefly. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Boys\u2019 World_.\n    Vol. 23 No. 23. Elgin, IL: David C. Cook Publishing Co., Jun 7,\n    1924. p. 8. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps and its\n    period removed.\n\nThe Flag at Sea. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Our Navy_. Vol. 16\n    No. 13. Washington D. C.: Men o\u2019 Warsmen Inc., Oct 14, 1922. p. 2.\n    Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nFlowers Are Thoughts of God. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The\n    Progressive Farmer_. Raleigh, NC: The Progressive Farmer Co.,\n    Jul 3, 1926. p. 733. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nFreedom v1928. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal\n    Efficiency_. Vol. 18 No. 10. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University,\n    Oct 1928. p. 230\n\nThe Future. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The \n    Kindergarten-Primary Magazine_. Vol. 39 No. 3. Manistee, MI: \n    J. H. Shults Co., Jan\u2013Feb 1927. p. 69. Note: Title\u2019s case changed\n    from all caps.\n\nThe Gateway of the Kingdom. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The\n    Sunday School Times_. Vol. 57 No. 29. Philadelphia: The Sunday\n    School Times Co., Jul 17, 1915. p. 1. Note: Dropped initial in\n    first verse normalized for e-readers.\n\nThe Gift of the Farm. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Farm Life_.\n    Vol. 41 No. 5. Spencer, IN: Farm Life Publishing Co., May 1922.\n    p. 25\n\nThe Gifts of the Church. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Princeton, India.\n    Source: _The Congregationalist_. Vol. 107 No. 49. Boston:\n    Congregational Publishing Society, Dec 7, 1922. p. 736. Note:\n    Stanzas\u2019 original layout of side-by-side is presented in this\n    compilation as follows: left stanza as first stanza,\n    right as second.\n\nThe God of the Beginning. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The\n    Church School_. Vol. 5 No. 11. New York: The Church School Press,\n    Aug 1924. p. 491. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps,\n    2) Stanzas\u2019 original layout of side-by-side is presented in this\n    compilation as follows: left stanza as first stanza, right as\n    second, 3) Dropped initial in first verse of both stanzas\n    normalized for e-readers.\n\nGod of To-Day. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Sunday School\n    Journal_. Vol. 54 No. 11. Cincinnati: The Methodist Book Concern,\n    Nov 1922. p. 656. Note: Dropped initial in first verse normalized\n    for e-readers.\n\nGod\u2019s Garden. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Sunday School\n    Journal_. Vol. 52 No. 7. Cincinnati: Methodist Book Concern,\n    Jul 1920. p. 407\n\nGod\u2019s Manners. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Baptist Record_.\n    Vol. 49 (old series) 29 (new series) No. 9. Jackson, MS: Mississippi\n    Baptist Convention Board, Mar 3, 1927. p. 11. Note: Title\u2019s case\n    changed from all caps.\n\nA Grace for Meals. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Girls\u2019\n    Companion_. Vol. 25 No. 28. Elgin, IL: David C. Cook Publishing Co.,\n    Jul 10, 1926. p. 7. Note: Title\u2019s period removed.\n\nThe Great Adventure. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Uplift_.\n    Vol. 15 No. 4. Concord, NC: Stonewall Jackson Manual Training and\n    Industrial School, Jan 8, 1927. p. 17. Note: Title\u2019s case changed\n    from all caps and its period removed.\n\nThe Grey Host. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The\n    Congregationalist_. Vol. 111 No. 44. Boston: Congregational\n    Publishing Society, Nov 4, 1926. p. 589\n\nHagar\u2019s Song. Byline: Clarence Flynn. Bloomfield, Ind. Source: _Western\n    Christian Advocate_. Vol. 72 No. 11. Cincinnati: Western Methodist\n    Book Concern, Mar 14, 1906. p. 13. Note: For context see\n    Genesis 16, 21:1\u201320.\n\nThe Happy Ending. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Youth_. Vol. 3\n    No. 8. Kansas City, MO: Unity School of Christianity, Aug 1929.\n    pp. 14\u201315. Note: Dropped initial in first verse normalized\n    for e-readers.\n\nThe Harness. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Edison Monthly_.\n    Vol. 20 No. 11. New York: The New York Edison Co., Nov 1928. p. 260\n\nHave You Tried? Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal\n    Efficiency_. Vol. 19 No. 11. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University,\n    Nov 1929. p. 251\n\nHeart Gates. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Herald of Gospel\n    Liberty_. Vol. 118 No. 43. Dayton, OH: The Christian Publishing\n    Association, Oct 28, 1926. p. 1018. Note: For context of first\n    stanza consider Revelation 21:9\u201327.\n\nThe Heart of a Child. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The\n    Kindergarten-Primary Magazine_. Vol. 39 No. 3. Manistee, MI: J. H.\n    Shults Co., Jan\u2013Feb 1927. p. 72. Note: Title\u2019s case changed\n    from all caps.\n\nThe Heart of a Child Is a Scroll. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source:\n    _The Sunday School Journal_. Vol. 54 No. 8. Cincinnati: The\n    Methodist Book Concern, Aug 1922. p. 473. Note: Dropped initial in\n    first verse normalized for e-readers.\n\nThe High Tension Line. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Edison\n    Monthly_. Vol. 18 No. 4. New York: The New York Edison Co.,\n    Apr 1926. p. 92. Note: For examples of context of last stanza\n    consider Mark 16:14\u201318 and Acts 3:1\u201310.\n\nHis Epitaph. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Our Dumb Animals_.\n    Vol. 55 No. 3. Norwood, MA: Massachusetts Society for the Prevention\n    of Cruelty to Animals, Aug 1922. p. 45. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case\n    changed from all caps, 2) Dropped initial in first verse normalized\n    for e-readers.\n\nHis Great Hour. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Oral Hygiene_.\n    Vol. 18 No. 11. Pittsburgh: Nov 1928. p. 2122\n\nHome v1921. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _American Messenger_.\n    Vol. 79 No. 9. New York: American Tract Society, Oct 1921. p. 172\n\nHome v1925. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _South Florida\n    Developer_. Vol. 5 No. 33. Stuart, FL: South Florida Developer,\n    Inc., May 12, 1925. p. 6. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nHope. Byline: Clarence Edwin Flynn. Greencastle, Ind. Source: _The\n    Christian Advocate_. Vol. 84 No. 43. New York: Eaton & Mains,\n    Oct 28, 1909. p. 1706\n\nHow It Started. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal\n    Efficiency_. Vol. 17 No. 12. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University,\n    Dec 1927. p. 277. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps,\n    2) Dropped initial in first verse normalized for e-readers.\n\n\u201cI am not eloquent\u201d. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The\n    Expositor_. Vol. 28 No. 3. Cleveland: F. M. Barton Co., Dec 1926.\n    p. 360. Note: For context see Moses in Exodus 4:10.\n\nIf Christ Is Not Divine. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _America_.\n    Vol. 29 No. 13. New York: The America Press, Jul 14, 1923. p. 306.\n    Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps, 2) For context see\n    1 Corinthians 15:12\u201319.\n\n\u201cI held a sea shell to my ears\u201d. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source:\n    _North Carolina Christian Advocate_. Vol. 73 No. 36. Greensboro, NC:\n    Sep 6, 1928. p. 20.\n\nImminence. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _New Orleans Christian\n    Advocate_. Vol. 75 No. 40. New Orleans: Publishing Committee for the\n    Louisiana, Mississippi, and North Mississippi Conferences,\n    Methodist Episcopal Church, South. Oct 4, 1928. p. 11. Note:\n    Title\u2019s case changed from all caps and its period removed.\n\nIn Conference. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal\n    Efficiency_. Vol. 17 No. 9. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University,\n    Sep 1927. p.214. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps,\n    2) Dropped initial in first verse normalized for e-readers.\n\nInventive Genius. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal\n    Efficiency_. Vol. 17 No. 2. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University,\n    Feb 1927. p. 34. Notes: 1) Dropped initial in first verse\n    normalized for e-readers, 2) Stanzas\u2019 original layout of\n    side-by-side is presented in this compilation as follows: \n    left stanza as first stanza, right as second.\n\nIron. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal Efficiency_. Vol. 18\n    No. 12. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University, Dec 1928. p. 286\n\nI Want. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Youth_. Vol. 2 No. 1. Kansas\n    City: Unity School of Christianity, Jan 1928. p. 22. Notes:\n    1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps, 2) Dropped initial in first\n    verse normalized for e-readers.\n\nJim. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Youth\u2019s Companion_. Vol. 93\n    No. 44. Boston: Perry Mason Co., Oct 30, 1919. p. 612. Note:\n    Stanzas\u2019 original layout of 1-over-2 is presented in this\n    compilation as follows: top stanza as first stanza, bottom-left as\n    second and bottom-right as third.\n\nJove\u2019s Plaint. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Edison\n    Monthly_. Vol. 16 No. 6. New York: The New York Edison Co.,\n    Jun 1924. p. 129\n\nThe King. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. De Pauw, \u201910. Source: _The Phi\n    Gamma Delta_. Vol. 31 No. 4. Indianapolis: Phi Gamma Delta\n    Fraternity, Feb 1909. p. 362. Notes: 1) He ended up graduating from\n    DePauw in 1911, 2) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nKnocking. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal Efficiency_.\n    Vol. 16 No. 7. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University, Jul 1926.\n    p. 436. Note: Illustrated dropped initial in first verse normalized\n    for e-readers.\n\nThe Land of Heart\u2019s Desire. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Santa\n    Ana Register_. Vol. 19 No. 153. Santa Ana, CA: Register Publishing\n    Co., May 26, 1924. p. 18. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nThe Lens. Byline: C. E. Flynn. Source: _Photoplay Magazine_. Vol. 22\n    No. 4. Chicago: Photoplay Publishing Co., Sep 1922. p. 109\n\nLet Us Be Right. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Christian\n    Sun_. Vol. 71 No. 38. Burlington, NC: Sep 17, 1919. Cover page.\n    Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nLife. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Congregationalist_.\n    Vol. 111 No. 41. Boston: Congregational Publishing Society, Oct 14,\n    1926. p. 504. Notes: 1) Removed comma at end of third verse,\n    2) Replaced comma with period at end of fourth verse.\n\nLight and Shadow. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Photoplay\n    Magazine_. Vol. 16 No. 2. Chicago: Photoplay Publishing Co.,\n    Jul 1919. p. 104. Note: Dropped initial in first verse normalized\n    for e-readers.\n\nThe Lucky Man. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal\n    Efficiency_. Vol. 18 No. 11. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University,\n    Nov 1928. p. 248\n\nMagi and Shepherd. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Indianapolis, Ind.\n    Source: _The Christian Advocate_. Vol. 90 No. 51. New York:\n    Methodist Book Concern, Dec 23, 1915. p. 1734\n\nThe Magic Gateway. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Princeton, Ind. Source:\n    _The Christian Advocate_. Vol. 96 No. 48. New York: The Methodist\n    Book Concern, Dec 1, 1921. p. 1506\n\nThe Magic of the Screen. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Photoplay\n    Magazine_. Vol. 21 No. 2. Chicago: Photoplay Publishing Co.,\n    Jan 1922. p. 62. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps MAGIC\n    and SCREEN, 2) Dropped initial in first verse of both stanzas\n    normalized for e-readers.\n\nThe Making of Heaven. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Christian\n    Century_. Vol. 39 No. 24. Chicago: Disciples Publication Society,\n    Jun 15, 1922. p. 745\n\nThe Making of Home. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Box 97, Bloomington,\n    Ind. Source: _The Railway Maintenance of Way Employes Journal_.\n    Vol. 32 No. 10. Detroit: Oct 1923. p. 11. Note: \u201cEmployes\u201d in\n    publication title is as printed.\n\nThe Man Who Knows. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Princeton, Ind. Source:\n    _The Christian Advocate_. Vol. 97 No. 36. New York: The Methodist\n    Book Concern, Sep 7, 1922. p. 1110\n\nThe Marine. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Our Navy_. Vol. 16\n    No. 17. Washington D. C.: Men o\u2019 Warsmen Inc., Dec 15, 1922. p. 2.\n    Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nThe Measure of Life. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Indiana\n    Farmer\u2019s Guide_. Vol. 34 No. 25. Huntington, IN: The Guide\n    Publishing Co., Jun 24, 1922. p. 658. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case\n    changed from all caps and its period removed, 2) Liberty was taken\n    with several end-of-line punctuation marks due to source\u2019s\n    poor legibility.\n\nMemorial Day v1929. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Expositor_.\n    Cleveland: F. M. Barton Co. Inc., May 1929. p. 924. Note: Title\u2019s\n    case changed from all caps.\n\nMinds. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal Efficiency_. Vol. 14\n    No. 2. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University, Feb 1924. p. 73.\n    Note: Illustrated dropped initial in each stanza\u2019s first verse\n    normalized for e-readers.\n\nMiracle. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Los Angeles Times_.\n    Vol. 43. Los Angeles: The Times-Mirror Co., Jul 13, 1924. p. 37.\n    Note: Changes made to punctuation in second stanza for consistency\n    with first stanza: comma added to end of first verse, and period\n    changed to comma at end of sixth verse.\n\nThe Modern Pupil. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The American\n    School Board Journal_. Vol. 78 No. 1. Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing\n    Co., Jan 1929. p. 198. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nMonuments. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Textile Worker_.\n    Vol. 10 No. 9. New York: United Textile Workers of America,\n    Dec 1922. p. 559. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nMorning Prayer. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The \n    Kindergarten-Primary Magazine_. Vol. 39 No. 3. Manistee, MI: \n    J. H. Shults Co., Jan\u2013Feb 1927. p. 80. Note: Title\u2019s case \n    changed from all caps.\n\nMy Father\u2019s House. Byline: Clarence Edwin Flynn. Source: _Western\n    Christian Advocate_. Vol. 74 No. 17. Cincinnati: Western Methodist\n    Book Concern, Apr 22, 1908. p. 12\n\nMy Little Fire. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _American Mutual\n    Magazine_. Vol. 9 No. 4. Boston: American Mutual Liability Insurance\n    Co., Dec 1929. Back cover. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from\n    all caps.\n\nMy Riches. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Our Navy_. Vol. 16\n    No. 18. Washington D. C.: Men o\u2019 Warsmen Inc., Dec 30, 1922. p. 2.\n    Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nThe New Day. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Sunday School\n    Journal_. Vol. 51 No. 3. Cincinnati: The Methodist Book Concern,\n    Mar 23, 1919. Cover page. Notes: Title\u2019s case changed from\n    all caps.\n\nThe New Year. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _American Messenger_.\n    Vol. 77 No. 1. New York: American Tract Society, Jan 1919. p. 6\n\nNo Room in the Inn. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Beacon_.\n    Vol. 14 No. 12. Boston: The Beacon Press, Inc., Dec 23, 1923. p. 56.\n    Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nOld-Fashioned Pictures. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Farm Life_.\n    Vol. 46 No. 3. Spencer, IN: Farm Life Publishing Co., Mar 1927. p. 62\n\nThe Open Soul. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _American Messenger_.\n    Vol. 78 No. 6. New York: American Tract Society, Jun 1920. p. 86.\n    Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nThe Open Tomb. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Sunday School\n    Journal_. Vol. 47 No. 4. Cincinnati: Methodist Book Concern,\n    Apr 1915. title page. Note: Stanzas\u2019 original layout of 2-over-1\n    is presented in this compilation as follows: top-left stanza as\n    first stanza, top-right as second and bottom as third.\n\nOur Hearts Forget. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _American\n    Messenger_. Vol. 81 No. 3. New York: The American Tract Society,\n    Mar 1923. p. 40\n\nThe Outcome. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion Picture\n    Classic_. Vol. 9 No. 5. Bayshore, NY: M. P. Publishing Co.,\n    Jan 1920. p. 90. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nPalm Sunday v1925. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The\n    Congregationalist_. Vol. 110 No. 13. Boston: Congregational\n    Publishing Society, Mar 26, 1925. p. 398. Notes: 1) Stanzas\u2019\n    original layout of side-by-side is presented in this compilation as\n    follows: left stanza as first stanza, right as second, 2) Jesus\n    healed Bartimaeus of blindness (Mark 10:46\u201352).\n\nA Parents\u2019 Prayer v1922. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Herald\n    of Gospel Liberty_. Vol. 114 No. 16. Dayton, OH: The Christian\n    Publishing Association, Apr 20, 1922. p. 372. Note: The sixth\n    verse\u2019s lack of indentation (half a space) was not replicated.\n\nPatchwork. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion Picture\n    Magazine_. Vol. 24 No. 7. Jamaica, NY: Brewster Publications, Inc.,\n    Aug 1922. p. 121. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nA Perfect Day. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Princeton, Ind. Source: _The\n    Epworth Era_. Vol. 29 No. 2. Nashville: Lamar & Barton, Oct 1922.\n    p. 63. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s period removed, 2) Stanzas\u2019 original\n    layout of side-by-side is presented in this compilation as follows:\n    left stanza as first stanza, right as second, 3) E-readers might\n    not correctly present \u201cperfect\u201d in first verse with small caps,\n    which is used for emphasis.\n\nPicture Books. Byline: C. E. Flynn. Source: _Photoplay Magazine_.\n    Vol. 22 No. 2. Chicago: Photoplay Publishing Co., Jul 1922. p. 101.\n    Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps, 2) Dropped initial in\n    first verse normalized for e-readers, 3) Stanzas\u2019 original layout\n    of side-by-side is presented in this compilation as follows: left\n    stanza as first stanza, right as second.\n\nPictures. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Photoplay Magazine_.\n    Vol. 15 No. 1. Chicago: Photoplay Publishing Co., Dec 1918. p. 40.\n    Notes: 1) Stanzas\u2019 original layout of 2-over-2-over-1 is presented\n    in this compilation as follows: top-left stanza as first stanza,\n    middle-left as second, top-right as third, middle-right as fourth\n    and bottom as fifth, 2) The fourth stanza\u2019s second verse\u2019s\n    indentation by one space was deleted.\n\nThe Picture\u2019s Lament. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion\n    Picture Magazine_. Vol. 27 No. 3. Jamaica, NY: Brewster\n    Publications, Inc., Apr 1924. p. 102. Note: Title\u2019s case changed\n    from all caps.\n\nPicture Writing. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion Picture\n    Magazine_. Vol. 24 No. 8. Jamaica, NY: Brewster Publications, Inc.,\n    Sep 1922. p. 109. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nA Prayer. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Warsaw Daily Times_.\n    Warsaw, IN: Reub. Williams & Sons, Nov 29, 1923. p. 6. Note:\n    Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nPrayer for Normal Men. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Princeton, Ind.\n    Source: _The Congregationalist_. Vol. 109 No. 4. Boston:\n    Congregational Publishing Society, Jan 24, 1924. p. 118\n\nA Prayer for Thanksgiving. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _American\n    Messenger_. Vol. 80 No. 11. New York: The American Tract Society,\n    Nov 1922. p. 179\n\nA Price Unpaid. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Northwestern\n    Christian Advocate_. Vol. 63 No. 41. Chicago: Methodist Book\n    Concern, Oct 6, 1915. p. 969\n\nThe Problem. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The American \n    Tyler-Keystone_. Vol. 41 No. 9. Mount Morris, IL: Tyler\n    Publishing Co., Sep 1927. p. 194. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed\n    from all caps, 2) Dropped initial in first verse normalized for\n    e-readers.\n\nA Psalm of the Movies. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion\n    Picture Magazine_. Vol. 23 No. 5. Jamaica, NY: Brewster\n    Publications, Inc., Jun 1922. p. 105. Note: Title\u2019s case changed\n    from all caps.\n\nThe Pupil. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Kindergarten-Primary\n    Magazine_. Vol. 39 No. 3. Manistee, MI: J. H. Shults Co.,\n    Jan\u2013Feb 1927. p. 87. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nThe Question. v1926 Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal\n    Efficiency_. Vol. 16 No. 12. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University,\n    Dec 1926. p. 715. Notes: 1) Stanzas\u2019 original layout of side-by-side\n    is presented in this compilation as follows: left stanza as\n    first stanza, right as second, 2) Dropped initial in first verse\n    normalized for e-readers.\n\nThe Radio Neighborhood. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The\n    Wireless Age_. Vol. 9 No. 11. New York: Wireless Press Inc.,\n    Aug 1922. p. 90\n\nThe Railroad. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _New York Central\n    Lines Magazine_. Vol. 4 No. 11. New York: New York Central Lines,\n    Feb 1924. p. 25. Note: Dropped initial in first verse normalized\n    for e-readers.\n\nRequisition. Byline: Clarence F. Flynn. Source: _The Summary_. Vol. 45\n    No. 46. Elmira, NY: New York State Reformatory, Nov 12, 1927. p. 3.\n    Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps, 2) Byline\u2019s middle\n    initial is as printed.\n\nRoads v1925. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Presbyterian\n    Standard_. Vol. 66 No. 9. Charlotte: Presbyterian Standard\n    Publishing Co., Mar 4, 1925. p. 9. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case\n    changed from all caps, 2) Indentation given to sixth verse of\n    second stanza.\n\nThe Rooster. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal Efficiency_.\n    Vol. 16 No. 7. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University, Jul 1926.\n    p. 436. Note: Illustrated dropped initial in each stanza\u2019s first\n    verse normalized for e-readers.\n\nThe Rulers of the Earth. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Pacific\n    Rural Press_. Vol. 111 No. 9. San Francisco: Pacific Rural Press\n    Co., Feb 27, 1926. p. 289. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all\n    caps and its period removed.\n\nSanctuary. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Ave Maria_. Vol. 26\n    No. 21. Notre Dame, IN: Nov 19, 1927. p. 648. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s\n    period removed, 2) Illustrated dropped initial in first verse\n    normalized for e-readers.\n\nThe Second Wind. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Railway\n    Maintenance of Way Employes Journal_. Vol. 32 No. 7. Detroit:\n    Jul 1923. p. 39. Notes: 1) For context of first stanza consider\n    Jennifer Rosenberg\u2019s article, \u201cWhy the Model T Is Called the Tin\n    Lizzie.\u201d //www.thoughtco.com/nickname-tin-lizzie-3976121 (accessed\n    May 25, 2025), 2) \u201cEmployes\u201d in publication title is as printed.\n\nThe Secret. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal Efficiency_.\n    Vol. 17 No. 1. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University, Jan 1927.\n    p.21. Note: Dropped initial in first verse normalized\n    for e-readers.\n\nThe Section Foreman. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _New York\n    Central Lines Magazine_. Vol. 2 No. 12. New York: New York Central\n    Railroad Co., Mar 1922. p. 44. Notes: 1) First stanza\u2019s opening\n    quotation mark was corrected from being upside down, 2) Closing\n    quotation mark added to end of first stanza for consistency with\n    second stanza, 3) Dropped initial in first verse normalized\n    for e-readers.\n\nThe Serving Giant. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Edison\n    Monthly_. Vol. 15 No. 2. New York: The New York Edison Co.,\n    Feb 1923. p. 34\n\nShadows v1921. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion Picture\n    Magazine_. Vol. 22 No. 11. Jamaica, NY: Brewster Publications, Inc.,\n    Dec 1921. p. 114. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nShadows on the Wall. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion Picture\n    Magazine_. Vol. 27 No. 2. Jamaica, NY: Brewster Publications, Inc.,\n    Mar 1924. p. 98. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nThe Shadow World. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion Picture\n    Magazine_. Vol. 22 No. 12. Jamaica, NY: Brewster Publications, Inc.,\n    Jan 1922. p. 108. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nSight and Faith. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Catholic\n    World_. Vol. 126 No. 751. New York: The Paulist Fathers, Oct 1927.\n    p. 84. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps and its period\n    removed, 2) E-readers might not correctly present \u201cwalked\u201d in first\n    verse with small caps, which is used for emphasis.\n\nSi Gidders. Byline: Clarence Flynn. Bloomfield, Ind. Source: _The\n    Indianapolis Journal: The Sunday Journal_, morning ed. Vol. 52\n    No. 306. Indianapolis: Journal Newspaper Co., Nov 2, 1902.\n    p. 10 of Part 2. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s period removed, 2) In response\n    to an editor\u2019s request for biographical information, Mr. Flynn\n    responded, \u201cMy first work was published in a little farm paper in\n    1901. By 1902 I got into the old _Indianapolis Journal_....\u201d\n    (_American Astrology Magazine_. Vol. 13 No. 6. New York: Clancy\n    Publications, Inc., Aug 1945. p. 16).\n\nThe Silent Drama. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion Picture\n    Classic_. Vol. 9 No. 5. Bayshore, NY: M. P. Publishing Co.,\n    Jan 1920. p. 79. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nSing a Little Song. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Stepping\n    Stones_. Vol. 14 No. 3. Independence, MO: Herald Publishing House,\n    Jan 17, 1926. p. 20\n\nSong of the Dove. Byline: Clarence Edwin Flynn, \u201909. Source: _Earlham\n    Verse_. Richmond, IN: John Dougan Rea, 1914. p. 38. Notes: 1) He\n    attended Earlham during 1905\u20131907 (_The Earlham College Bulletin:\n    The Directory_. Vol. 13 No. 5. Richmond, IN: Earlham College,\n    Aug 1916. p. 58), 2) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps,\n    3) Dropped initial in first verse normalized for e-readers.\n\nSorrow. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Continent_. Vol. 55\n    No. 44. Chicago: McCormick Publishing Co., Oct 30, 1924. p. 1331\n\nThe Stars and Stripes for Me. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source:\n    _Education_. Vol. 43 No. 3. Boston: The Palmer Co., Nov 1922.\n    p. 147. Note: Commas preceding em dashes were removed.\n\nStarting Things. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal\n    Efficiency_. Vol. 17 No. 8. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University,\n    Aug 1927. p. 175. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps,\n    2) Dropped initial in first verse normalized for e-readers.\n\nThe Station. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _New York Central Lines\n    Magazine_. Vol. 2 No. 12. New York: New York Central Railroad Co.,\n    Mar 1922. p. 46. Note: Dropped initial in first verse normalized\n    for e-readers.\n\nSuccess. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal Efficiency_.\n    Vol. 17 No. 2. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University, Feb 1927.\n    p. 47. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps, 2) Dropped\n    initial in first verse normalized for e-readers.\n\nSuccess and Failure. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal\n    Efficiency_. Vol. 18 No. 8. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University,\n    Aug 1928. p. 176\n\nThe Sunbeam and the Shadow. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion\n    Picture Magazine_. Vol. 22 No. 9. Jamaica, NY: Brewster\n    Publications, Inc., Oct 1921. p. 107. Note: Title\u2019s case changed\n    from all caps.\n\nThe Teacher v1921. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Sunday\n    School Journal_. Vol. 53 No. 11. Cincinnati: The Methodist Book\n    Concern, Nov 1921. p. 651. Note: Dropped initial in first verse\n    normalized for e-readers.\n\nThe Teacher v1922. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Sunday\n    School Journal_. Vol. 54 No. 8. Cincinnati: The Methodist Book\n    Concern, Aug 1922. Cover page\n\nThe Teacher v1923. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Sunday\n    School Journal_. Vol. 55 No. 9. Cincinnati: The Methodist Book\n    Concern, Sep 1923. Cover page. Note: Dropped initial in first verse\n    normalized for e-readers.\n\nThe Teacher\u2019s Reward. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Juvenile\n    Instructor_. Vol. 60 No. 4. Salt Lake City: Deseret Sunday School\n    Union, Apr 1925. p. 188\n\nTeam-work. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal Efficiency_.\n    Vol. 16 No. 9. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University, Sep 1926.\n    p. 567. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps, 2) Art piece\n    signature of \u201cMcV\u201d stands for G. R. McVicker.\n\nThe Temple. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Congregationalist_.\n    Vol. 107 No. 35. Boston: Congregational Publishing Society, Aug 31,\n    1922. p. 269\n\nThankfulness. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Ave Maria_.\n    Vol. 29 No. 25. Notre Dame, IN: Jun 22, 1929. p. 779. Notes:\n    1) Title\u2019s period removed, 2) Illustrated dropped initial in\n    first verse normalized for e-readers.\n\nTheir First Meal. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Own Your Own\n    Home_. Vol. 2 No. 4. Jamaica, NY: The Constructive Publishing Corp.,\n    Aug 1926. p. 7\n\nThe Things That I Believe. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source:\n    _America_. Vol. 32 No. 11. New York: The America Press, Dec 27,\n    1924. p. 258. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nToday and Tomorrow. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _American\n    Cookery_. Vol. 29 No. 1. Boston: The Boston Cooking School Magazine\n    Co., Jun\u2013Jul 1924. p. 21. Note: Stanzas\u2019 original layout of\n    side-by-side is presented in this compilation as follows: left\n    stanza as first stanza, right as second.\n\nTransforming Love. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _American\n    Messenger_. Vol. 81 No. 2. New York: The American Tract Society,\n    Feb 1923. p. 23\n\nThe Tree. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Personal Efficiency_.\n    Vol. 14 No. 6. Chicago: LaSalle Extension University, Jun 1924.\n    p. 424\n\nA Trouble Making World. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The\n    American Friend_. Vol. 27 (old series), Vol. 8 (new series) No. 17.\n    Richmond, IN: The Friends Publication Board, Fourth Month (Apr) 22,\n    1920. p. 385. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nThe Trouble with the Movies. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source:\n    _Amateur Movie Makers_. Vol. 3 No. 5. New York: Amateur Cinema\n    League, Inc., May 1928. p. 355. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from\n    all caps and its period removed, 2) Stanzas\u2019 original layout of\n    side-by-side is presented in this compilation as follows: left\n    stanza as first stanza, right as second.\n\nTrue Values. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Sunday School\n    Journal_. Vol. 48 No. 5. Cincinnati: The Methodist Book Concern,\n    May 1916. p. 337. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nTwo Princes. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Northwestern Christian\n    Advocate_. Vol. 63 No. 34. Chicago: Methodist Book Concern, Aug 18,\n    1915. p. 800. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nThe Umbrella Mender. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Christian\n    Register_. Vol. 105 No. 52. Boston: The Christian Register Inc.,\n    Dec 30, 1926. p. 1186\n\nThe Unknown Soldier. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Daughters of\n    the American Revolution Magazine_. Vol. 58 No. 3. Albany, NY: The\n    National Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution,\n    Mar 1924. p. 148. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nVia Dolorosa. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _America_. Vol. 32\n    No. 24. New York: The America Press, Mar 28, 1925. p. 570. Note:\n    Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nThe Voices of God. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Sunday\n    School Journal_. Vol. 47 No. 6. Cincinnati: Methodist Book Concern,\n    Jun 1915. p. 420. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s case changed from all caps,\n    2) E-readers might not correctly present \u201cthousand\u201d in first verse\n    with small caps, which is used for emphasis.\n\nVoices of the Dawn. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _American\n    Cookery_. Vol. 27 No. 2. Boston: The Boston Cooking School Magazine\n    Co., Aug\u2013Sep 1922. No page number\n\nThe Watchdog of the Sea. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Our Navy_.\n    Vol. 16 No. 17. Washington D. C.: Men o\u2019 Warsmen Inc., Dec 15, 1922.\n    p. 2. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nWalking with God. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Herald of\n    Gospel Liberty_. Vol. 120 No. 35. Dayton, OH: The Christian\n    Publishing Association, Aug 30, 1928. p. 807. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s\n    case changed from all caps, 2) Dropped initial in first verse\n    normalized for e-readers.\n\nWander Lust. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Farm Life_. Vol. 47\n    No. 5. Spencer, IN: Farm Life Publishing Co., May 1928. p. 34\n\nThe Wealth of Cheer. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Indianapolis, Ind.\n    Source: _Southwestern Christian Advocate_. Vol. 44 No. 27.\n    New Orleans: The Methodist Book Concern, Jul 8, 1915. p. 5.\n    Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nWhat Does It Matter? Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Bloomington, Ind.\n    Source: _Christian Advocate_. Vol. 85 No. 44. Nashville: Lamar &\n    Barton, Oct 31, 1924. p. 1387. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from\n    all caps.\n\n\u201cWhatever he may wish or plan\u201d. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The\n    Progressive Farmer_. Vol. 44 No. 8. Birmingham: The Progressive\n    Farmer Co., Feb 23, 1929. p. 19. Note: The poem appears in four\n    parts interspersed in a third-party sermon. Transcriber is\n    uncertain if they constitute the entire poem.\n\nWhen the Curtain Falls. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion\n    Picture Magazine_. Vol. 16 No. 9. Bayshore, NY: The M.P. Publishing\n    Co., Oct 1918. p. 123. Note: Title\u2019s case changed from all caps.\n\nWhere Is Heaven? Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _The Beacon_.\n    Vol. 13 No. 7. Boston: The Beacon Press, Inc., Nov 12, 1922. p. 26.\n    Note: Dropped initial in first verse normalized for e-readers.\n\nWhy We Are Here. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Princeton, Ind. Source:\n    _The Epworth Era_. Vol. 31 No. 3. Nashville: Lamar & Barton,\n    Nov 1924. p. 118. Notes: 1) Title\u2019s period removed, 2) Stanzas\u2019\n    original layout of side-by-side is presented in this compilation as\n    follows: left stanza as first stanza, right as second, 3) E-readers\n    might not correctly present the \u201cur\u201d of \u201cOur\u201d in first verse with\n    small caps, which is used for emphasis.\n\nThe Window of Dreams. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion\n    Picture Magazine_. Vol. 26 No. 5. Jamaica, NY: Brewster\n    Publications, Inc., Dec 1923. p. 126. Note: Title\u2019s case changed\n    from all caps.\n\nThe World\u2019s Drama. Byline: Clarence E. Flynn. Source: _Motion Picture\n    Magazine_. Vol. 15 No. 5. Bayshore, NY: The M.P. Publishing Co.,\n    Jun 1918. p. 99. Notes: 1) Stanzas\u2019 original layout of \n    1-over-2-over-2 is presented in this compilation as follows: top\n    stanza as first stanza, middle-left as second, bottom-left as\n    third, middle-right as fourth and bottom-right as fifth, \n    2) Illustrated dropped initial in first verse normalized for\n    e-readers.\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX 2: INDEX\n\n\nCategories are not mutually exclusive. Also, bracketed text indicates a\nhumorous (H) poem and/or offers additional information to facilitate\nsearches for a particular poem.\n\naccountability\n  Charge Account\n  The Section Foreman [train]\n\nancestors\n  Old-Fashioned Pictures\n\nattitude\n  A Perfect Day\n  Sing a Little Song\n  The Wealth of Cheer\n\nbehavior\n  The Fabulous City [speculation]\n  Film Judgment [H; theater]\n  Knocking [H; car]\n  The Modern Pupil [H; insubordination]\n  A Psalm of the Movies [H; theater]\n  The Umbrella Mender [procrastination]\n\ncharacter\n  Almost\n  The Bantams [H; animal]\n  The Chameleon [animal]\n  The Close-Up\n  Domsie\n  The End of the Trail\n  Freedom v1928\n  His Epitaph [compassion]\n  In Conference [H; haughtiness]\n  Iron [potential]\n  I Want [greed]\n  Jim\n  Prayer for Normal Men\n  The Tree [corruption, plant]\n  A Trouble Making World [self]\n  Two Princes\n\ncommunity\n  Along the Road [service]\n  The Gifts of the Church\n  Magi and Shepherd [equality]\n  The Radio Neighborhood [connection]\n  Team-work [farm, teamwork]\n\nconsolation\n  My Little Fire\n\nduty\n  Doing It Well\n  The Engineer [train]\n  The Lucky Man\n\nelectricity\n  The City\u2019s Nerves\n  Cupid\u2019s Lament [H]\n  Electricity\n  An Electric Personality [H; pun]\n  Enslaved Lightning [H]\n  The Harness [H]\n  The High Tension Line [miracle]\n  Jove\u2019s Plaint [H]\n  The Serving Giant [service]\n\nentertainment\n  After-Images [theater]\n  The Magic of the Screen [theater]\n  Picture Books [theater]\n  The Picture\u2019s Lament [H; theater]\n  The Shadow World [theater]\n  The Trouble with the Movies [H; theater]\n  The Window of Dreams [theater]\n\nevolution\n  The Electric Spark [creation]\n  Evolution [H; technology]\n  The Firefly [animal]\n  Picture Writing [theater]\n\nfaith\n  Credo\n  Faith v1928\n  The Gateway of the Kingdom\n  The Happy Ending\n  The Man Who Knows\n  Sight and Faith\n  The Things That I Believe\n\nfashion\n  The Question v1926 [H]\n\nfellowship\n  Brotherhood\n  Fade-Outs\n  Heart Gates\n\nfortitude\n  Climaxes v1923\n  The Cross v1927\n  Have You Tried?\n  The Rooster [H; animal]\n  The Second Wind [car]\n  Walking with God\n\nGod\n  The Creator [omnipresence]\n  Flowers Are Thoughts of God [plant]\n  The God of the Beginning [Providence]\n  God\u2019s Garden\n  God\u2019s Manners [nature]\n  Imminence [nature]\n  The Voices of God [nature]\n  What Does It Matter? [Providence]\n\ngrace\n  The Divine Image\n  The Open Soul\n\ngratitude\n  Childhood on the Farm\n  Compensation\n  The Cry of a Human\n  The Gift of the Farm\n  God of To-Day\n  A Grace for Meals\n  A Prayer\n  Thankfulness [plant]\n\nheart\n  The Age of a Heart\n  Finding God [nature]\n  The King\n  No Room in the Inn\n  Our Hearts Forget\n\nheaven\n  The Land of Heart\u2019s Desire\n  The Making of Heaven\n  My Father\u2019s House\n  Where Is Heaven?\n\nhome\n  Coming and Going [train]\n  Home v1921\n  Home v1925\n  The Making of Home\n  The Temple [reverence]\n  Their First Meal\n  Wander Lust\n\nhope\n  Climaxes v1921 [theater]\n  An Easter Vision\n  Hope\n  The New Year\n  The Open Tomb\n  The Outcome [theater]\n  Roads v1925\n  The Unknown Soldier [war]\n  Via Dolorosa\n\nlegacy\n  Life\n  Monuments [angel]\n\nlife\n  The Great Adventure\n  The Lens [theater]\n  Light and Shadow [theater]\n  Patchwork\n  Pictures\n  The Railroad [train]\n  Shadows v1921 [theater]\n  Shadows on the Wall [theater]\n  The Station [train]\n  The Sunbeam and the Shadow [theater]\n  Today and Tomorrow\n  Why We Are Here [purpose]\n\nlove\n  Palm Sunday v1925\n  Transforming Love\n\nmilitary\n  The Marine\n  The Watchdog of the Sea [navy]\n\nmortality\n  When the Curtain Falls [theater]\n  The World\u2019s Drama [theater]\n\nnature\n  The Earth\u2019s Plaint [technology]\n  Miracle\n  Song of the Dove [animal]\n  Voices of the Dawn\n\nparenting\n  The Children v1921\n  The Children v1925\n  The Heart of a Child\n  The Heart of a Child Is a Scroll\n  His Great Hour\n  A Parents\u2019 Prayer v1922\n  The Problem\n\npatriotism\n  The Flag at Sea\n  My Riches\n  The Stars and Stripes for Me\n\npeople\n  Gutenberg, Johannes\n    Starting Things [H]\n  Jesus Christ\n    An Easter Vision\n    If Christ Is Not Divine\n    The King\n    Magi and Shepherd\n    No Room in the Inn\n    The Open Tomb\n    The Outcome\n    Palm Sunday v1925\n    Two Princes\n    Via Dolorosa\n  Moses\n    \u201cI am not eloquent\u201d\n  Thales of Miletus\n    How It Started\n\nprayer\n  Child\u2019s Prayer [nighttime]\n  Credo\n  God of To-Day [gratitude]\n  A Grace for Meals\n  Hagar\u2019s Song [trust]\n  Morning Prayer [petition]\n  A Parents\u2019 Prayer v1922 [nighttime]\n  A Prayer [gratitude]\n  Prayer for Normal Men\n  A Prayer for Thanksgiving [mercy]\n  The Problem\n  Sanctuary\n\nsorrow\n  The Dream\n  \u201cI held a sea shell to my ears\u201d [sea]\n  Sorrow\n\nspecial occasions\n  birth of a child\n    The Children v1925 [parenting]\n    The Future [time]\n    The Heart of a Child [parenting]\n    The Heart of a Child Is a Scroll [parenting]\n  Earth Day\n    The Earth\u2019s Plaint [nature]\n    The Firefly [evolution]\n    God\u2019s Manners [God]\n    Miracle [nature]\n    Song of the Dove [nature]\n    Voices of the Dawn [nature]\n  Flag Day (see Patriotism)\n  funeral\n    The Making of Heaven [heaven]\n    Monuments [legacy]\n    Roads v1925 [hope]\n    Sorrow\n    When the Curtain Falls [mortality]\n  Independence Day (see Patriotism)\n  Labor Day (see Duty)\n  Martin Luther King Day\n    Team-work [teamwork]\n  Memorial Day\n    The Grey Host [war]\n    Memorial Day v1929\n    The Unknown Soldier [hope]\n  National Inventors\u2019 Day (Feb 11)\n    Inventive Genius [H; thought]\n    Starting Things [H; thought]\n  National Static Electricity Day (Jan 9)\n    How It Started [thought]\n  New Year\u2019s Day\n    The New Year [hope]\n  Thanksgiving (see Gratitude)\n  Valentine\u2019s Day\n    Cupid\u2019s Lament [H; electricity]\n  Veterans Day (see also Military)\n    Jim\n    The New Day\n\nsuccess\n  The Day\u2019s Success [positive impact]\n  The Secret [initiative and perseverance]\n  Success [joy and love]\n  Success and Failure [happiness]\n\ntalent\n  \u201cI am not eloquent\u201d\n  The Rulers of the Earth [farm]\n\nteaching\n  The Builder v1924\n  The Builders\n  The Pupil\n  The Teacher v1921\n  The Teacher v1922\n  The Teacher v1923\n  The Teacher\u2019s Reward\n\nthought\n  How It Started\n  Inventive Genius [H]\n  The Magic Gateway [books]\n  Minds\n  Si Gidders [H]\n  The Silent Drama [theater]\n  Starting Things [H]\n\ntime\n  The Clock [H]\n  A Day at a Time [hope]\n  The Future [children]\n\nvalues\n  A Creed\n  Let Us Be Right\n  The Measure of Life\n  Requisition\n  True Values\n  \u201cWhatever he may wish or plan\u201d\n\nwar\n  Battle Hymn\n  The Grey Host [peace]\n  The New Day [peace]\n  A Price Unpaid\n\n\n\n\nAPPENDIX 3: INACCESSIBLE POEMS\n\n\nThe collection of poetry may be incomplete for a couple of reasons.\nFirst, poems may be unknown to the transcriber. Second, publications\nfor known poems may be inaccessible. Poems in the latter category are\nlisted at the following website along with an e-mail address in case\nyou can help: //cefpoet.w3spaces.com/index.html.","title":"Collected poems of Clarence Edwin Flynn, first series : $b 1929 and earlier","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":32186}