Chapter I: GO down when the train comes in,

No matter what the day, Where some arrive amid the din, And others go away.

I see glad faces looking down
The track that rambles on
Far from the quiet little town,
Impatient to be gone.

But oh, the eyes most full of mirth
I see upon the train
Have seen the wonders of the earth
And then come home again.

Blest is the road that leads away
Where restless ones may roam;
But each loves best of all, one day,
The road that leads back home.

Ambition makes us all to dare
The far, intriguing track;
But when we’ve had enough of care
The heart will bring us back.

The Day’s Success (1928)

When sunset falls upon your day
And fades from out the West.
When business cares are put away
And you lie down to rest,
The measures of the day’s success
Or failure will be told
In terms of human happiness
And not in terms of gold.

Is there beside some hearth tonight
More joy because you wrought?
Does someone face the bitter strife
With courage you have taught?
Is something added to the store
Of human happiness?
If so, the day that now is o’er
Has been a real success.

The Earth’s Plaint (1928)

From ages immemorial they’ve scratched my patient face With plow, and pick, and shovel, in all confidence and grace. They’ve dug their springs, and sunk their wells, and made their post holes, too, Wherever it has pleased their passing fancy so to do. But here of late they seem to feel that more is wrong with me Than to the specialists who came at first there seemed to be. They’ve stopped the minor surgery--it seemed to be too light --And started on a major scale to set my system right.

They sink a shaft a solid mile through rock, and sand, and clay. They go right into it with drills and bore the livelong day. They cut a tunnel through a hill, and make the two ends fit. They chop away as though they thought it didn’t hurt a bit. They change the course of rivers and the shape of waterfalls. They dig deep excavations for their bridges and their walls. A major operation of some kind has come to be A kind of daily diet, in these latter days, with me.

[Poem is surrounded by photos of earth-working equipment in action around the world (clockwise from top-right corner): Egypt, New Zealand, Formosa, Chile, Rhodesia, Sicily, Dutch East Indies, Honduras, Ireland, Nigeria, India, and U.S.A.]

Evolution (1928)

A shining automobile
Was standing at the curb.
A glib and crafty salesman
Was handing out his blurb.
A bicycle was leaning
Its well-worn handle bar
Against a post--the early
Ancestor of the car.

Then, snorting down the pavement,
A motorcycle flew,
Pausing between the cycle
And car so bright and new.
“Aha,” the auto whispered,
“I have evolved, I think,
From that bicycle yonder,
And here’s the missing link.”

Faith v1928

If you cast out Into the outer darkness of your mind All about which you can conceive a doubt, Or find some strange and vain excuse to flout, Or charge to ages credulous and blind, All about which the whole world is not sure, My friend, you will be pitifully poor.

If your faith clings To all the good, and beautiful, and right, That the experience of ages brings, And offers as the necessary things That stand forever by truth’s simple might, Believing each till it is found untrue, The heart’s unmeasured riches are for you.

Freedom v1928

Freedom to make the sturdy climb From sodden depths to heights sublime; Freedom to seek Truth’s ready aid In mastering a chosen trade; Freedom to play an honest part, And make some worthy work an art; Freedom to struggle with a smile-- That is the freedom worth the while.

Freedom to keep a heart that sings Amid the fret and drive of things; Freedom to serve with heart, and mind, And hand, the races of mankind; Freedom to meet the fiercest test Knowing that one has done his best; Freedom to trudge the upward mile-- That is the freedom worth the while.

The Harness (1928)

“What means all this mass of wiring?” Asked the visitor from Mars. “We have nothing that is like it In our section of the stars. All these conduits and cables, This machinery that sings With its whirring wheels and motors --What have they to do with things?”

“Very much,” the earth-child answered. “We’ve a giant, all unseen, Who serves every little household, Every factory and machine, Does our work, transports our people, Friendship’s kindly message bears. All this wiring you have noted Is the harness that he wears.”

His Great Hour (1928)

He headed the procession On many a parade. He heard the ringing echoes Where loud applause was made. But naught has ever equalled The time in early youth When first his folks discovered That he had cut a tooth.

He published learned volumes And speeches made galore. He traveled and was feted The land and ocean o’er. But never was the hero So praised and sung, forsooth, As on that vanished midnight When first he cut a tooth.

“I held a sea shell to my ears” (1928)

I held a sea shell to my ears A little while today, And heard the echo of the years Sounding from far away. I heard ten thousand soft good-byes To hearts that needs must roam, Ten thousand weekly muffled cries For ships that came not home.

I heard the story of the dreams Of those who journeyed far, But brought not back Wealth’s shining gleams To the home harbor bar. I heard the story of the brave Who Freedom’s burdens bore, Who fought their battles on the wave But struggle now no more.

Imminence (1928)

Like to the circuit of a bright day’s glory,
Like to a shadow moving on the grass,
Like to the telling of an evening story,
God’s purposes all shortly come to pass.

Like to the nearness of a dewdrop’s brushing,
Like to the nearness of a breath of May,
Like to the nearness of a wind uprushing,
God’s promised kingdom is not far away.

Like to the vastness of the stars’ swift motion,
Like to the vastness of the course they swing,
Like to the vastness of a shoreless ocean,
God’s love is here enfolding everything.

Iron (1928)

A piece of iron was refined By highest skill of hand and mind, To steel that formed the keenest blade, Or instruments of wonder made, Or strings awaking symphonies From far across the centuries.

Another piece lay dull and dead As days of hope and wonder sped. It felt no prompting of desire For the refiner’s purging fire. Passive it lay, nor ever wist The thrill and gladness it had missed.

I speak no word of praise or blame. I only say it is a shame That metal, made for wondrous things, Keen instruments, responsive strings, Should be, its aspiration spent, Arrested in development.

I Want (1928)