Chapter I: WANT a deep mine where the gold knows no measure,

A house with the widest and rarest of rooms, Replete with the objects of beauty and pleasure, With tapestries done on the finest of looms. I want a great fleet that will compass the ocean, And bring me the choicest of all the world’s store. I want a cortege, with the deepest devotion Performing my bidding, my wishes--and more.

I want a position of pow’r and of splendor,
An empire to rule with the will of a king.
I want the rich tribute that vassals can render,
The praise that the lips of the loyal can bring.
I want earth’s delights without limit or curbing,
The richest that skill can conceive or design.
One question alone is a little disturbing--
Just what shall I do with them when they are mine?

The Lucky Man (1928)

He struggled on and upward,
Impelled by high ambition.
He bent his strongest efforts
To better his condition.
He paid the price of labor,
As others had before him.
A rich and bounteous harvest
His earnest efforts bore him.

Two loafers were exchanging
Their shallow talk one morning,
Their conversation ranging
From filthiness to scorning.
He passed. One said: “There’s Sweezy.
My way was always rocky.
But some folks have it easy.
That fellow sure is lucky.”

Success and Failure (1928)

Whoever builds a mighty name And fills the country with his fame, Who seeks and uses earthly power To make a stately triumph hour, Who rears a mansion rich and high To frown against the kindly sky, If he has not found happiness Is still a failure none the less.

Whoever dwells in humble walls Where only toilsome care befalls, Who plans when dear ones are in bed Where shall be found to-morrow’s bread, To cheer whose heart Life only brings The humble joy of simple things, If happiness has crowned his name, He is successful just the same.

The Trouble with the Movies (1928) [Transcriber’s note: All verses are italicized.]

The trouble with the movies, As it appears to me, Is not what the wise people About me seem to see. But I do raise objection In accents bold and high To one outstanding evil The waste of custard pie.

If all that precious pastry Thrown with such ready grace, Such technique and precision, At some poor fellow’s face, Were gathered all together For my convenience, I Would just retire from labor And live on custard pie.

Walking with God (1928)

WHO walks with God must take his way Across far distances and gray To goals that others do not see, Where others do not care to be. Who walks with God must have no fear When danger and defeat appear, Nor stop when every hope seems gone, For God, our God, moves ever on.

Who walks with God must press ahead When sun or cloud is overhead, When all the waiting thousands cheer, Or when they only stop to sneer; When all the challenge leaves the hours And naught is left but jaded powers. But he will some day reach the dawn, For God, our God, moves ever on.

Wander Lust (1928)

“I want to go away somewhere,” Cries every human heart of care. “I want to go across the sea, And find a place where hearts are free. I want to look at bluer skies, And stand where higher mountains rise. To tropic scene, to arctic snow, I want to go, I want to go.”

And so we take our varied ways Across the miles and through the days. We see the wonders of the earth. We share its sorrow and its mirth. Time sends its snows upon our hair. We stumble with our loads of care. Then one day sounds a broken cry: “Please, won’t you take me home to die?”

The Divine Image (1929)

Something within me makes me love the roses;
Something within me makes me search the sky;
Something within me makes me roam the meadows;
The woodlands where the trees are still and high.
Something within me makes me sit at twilight
Enraptured with the starlight on the sod;
Something within me thrills at lovely music,
That something in me makes me kin to God.

Something within me makes me like the brothers
Who share with me the path that I must tread;
Something within me wakens hope and longing
To struggle on to summits far ahead.
Something within me keeps me ever dreaming
Of heavenly things amid the thorn and clod;
Something within me speaks of light and beauty,
That something in me makes me kin to God.

Domsie (1929)

Simple his habit, plain his wonted ration, Humble the roof that sheltered him at night. He sought no preferment of rank or station, Save but to be a bearer of the light. He dreamed out futures for the boys before him, And led them ever onward toward the goal. The heights they won the choicest gladness bore him Whose faces were enshrined within his soul.

In many a countryside and distant city Were lived strong lives to which the light he gave. Strong hearts beat and strong hands were reached in pity He taught to bless, to brighten, and to save. Upon a quiet hillside he is sleeping, Content to rest, the final school day o’er, But everywhere his boys the faith are keeping. They hold his torch aloft forevermore.

The Happy Ending (1929)