Chapter I: HEARD a tiny sound to-day

The flowers all had stopped to pray. Lily, and rose, and goldenrod And violet were thanking God. For what? The sun, and rain, and dew, That had not failed the season through, The soil, the winds with their caress; And simple daily happiness.

I blushed, whose thought had found no wings To thank God for the simple things. No sudden fortune had bestowed On me a rich and golden load. But I had known the rain, the sun, Shelter and rest when day was done, Raiment, and food, and happy hours. I was less thankful than the flowers.

“Whatever he may wish or plan” (1929)

Whatever he may wish or plan, Three things will make or break a man: The work to which he gives his hand, To make a living in the land. The friends to whom his heart gives toll, Whose shadows fall across his soul. The goal by which through toil and strife He gives direction to his life.

God and Spring (1930)

Though there were no hint of glory
In a pebble or in clod,
Though the circling of the planets
Gave no evidence of God,
Though the wisdom of the ages
Not a word of faith could bring,
How could one be unbelieving
Who had ever seen the Spring?

In the Spring God spreads the verdure
On a thousand hills and leas.
In the Spring he paints the roses,
Hangs the clouds, and builds the trees.
In the Spring he weaves the wonder
Of a flitting redbird’s wing.
How could one be unbelieving
Who had ever seen the Spring?

Illustration of a girl sitting under a tree that has a spiderweb hanging from its foliage; all elements are silhouetted. The girl’s hair is kept up with a bow, and she is slightly looking up at a spider hanging from the web. At her feet is a basket containing flora; its handle also has a bow. The tree foliage occupies the top of the portrait frame, the large web occupies the top half, and the girl occupies the bottom half. The artwork has the printed signature, “Nelson White.”

The Handicap (1930)

Whatever foe may meet me,
Whatever game I play,
I’d rather he’d defeat me
Than win a walkaway.
I do not want an inning
With never a mishap.
No game is worth the winning
Without a handicap.

So in the mighty contest
That runs across the years,
I’d rather wage my conquest
In toil and sweat and tears,
Than have success’s measure
Tossed lightly in my lap,
And win life’s golden treasure
Without a handicap.

The Mixture (1930)

A little bit of Saxon
And a little bit of Gaul,
A little bit of Latin
And a touch of Celtic small;
A little bit of Norman
And a dash of Scottish clan,
Mixed with a bit of Teuton,
Makes a good American.

The best of all the races--
Let us hope, without the worst--
Is mingled in his making
By the whole earth he was nursed.
So who is there beneath us?
Who is there we should ban,
When all the world is living
In a good American?

Sunsets For Sale (1930)

I heard a man in Paradise Say this to God: “Let’s advertise! You’ve got a proposition here On which you’d make a billion clear If I could manage things my way. My plan is this: Make earth-folks pay For what you give them, night and day. For instance, take the Milky Way; To see that glittering display I’d charge them fifty cents a night; To purchase tickets folks would fight. We’ll charge for flowers, and song of bird-- Why give them free? Why, it’s absurd! One dollar for each sunset view, The same for every sunrise, too. Fall landscapes will be costly sights, We’ll reap a sum from mountain heights. Green curving breakers will come high, And men will pay to hear winds sigh.” Then God replied, when he had done, “I charge for all these things, my son. And costly--costly is my fee: A heart of childlike purity!”

Thanksgiving v1930

_I thank Thee, Lord of earth and heaven, For all the blessings Thou hast given.

Some marched in such a shining line I knew their banner and their sign.

Some came to my bewildered eyes Dressed in a fanciful disguise.

Some came attired as Bitterness, But stayed to strengthen and to bless.

Some nameless came, and passed away, Unknown till after many a day.

Some came so silently that I Did not suspect that they were nigh.

Some were the blessings, strong and sure, Of things that I did not endure.

And so, however they befall, Dear Lord, I thank Thee for them all_.

Two Teachers

One peddled facts with learned air, Intoned with most impressive sound, His pupils timidly would bear Witness to scholarship most profound. In him. Time passed. They older grew. Still passed, and one day he was not. Then what became of all he knew So glibly once? It was forgot.

Another dreamed of life supreme, Sun-crowned and strong, for those he taught. The larger manhood was his scheme, Armed with the power of honest thought. He builded souls for service true, Wrought them of fabric real and sure. He also passed, as teachers do. But through the years his works endure.

Two Youths (1930)

One said, “Youth cometh but once to me,
So I shall play, and laugh, and sing;
I own no chains. I will be free,
None shall deny me anything.”
He had his fling, then worn and gray,
With weary soul and eyelids wet,
He tried to wash the tears away,
And stem the tide of vain regret.

One said, “My youth comes not again,
I must not spoil it as it goes.
I must not live a day in vain,
Nor stain a page, nor mar a rose.”
The future found him glad and strong,
Unbound by weariness and fears,
Treading his journey with a song,
Heir to the gladness of the years.

What Do You Know? (1930)