The Little Home

The little house is not too small

To shelter friends who come to call.

Though low the roof and small its space

It holds the Lord's abounding grace,

And every simple room may be

Endowed with happy memory.

The little house, severely plain,

A wealth of beauty may contain.

Within it those who dwell may find

High faith which makes for peace of mind,

And that sweet understanding which

Can make the poorest cottage rich.

The little house can hold all things

From which the soul's contentment springs.

'Tis not too small for love to grow,

For all the joys that mortals know,

For mirth and song and that delight

Which make the humblest dwelling bright.

                                          By Edgar A. Guest

As You Go Through Life

Don’t look for the flaws as you go through life;

      And even when you find them,

   It is wise and kind to be somewhat blind,

      And look for the virtue behind them;

   For the cloudiest night has a hint of light

      Somewhere in its shadows hiding;

   It’s better by far to hunt for a star,

      Than the spots on the sun abiding.

   The current of life runs ever away

      To the bosom of God’s great ocean.

   Don’t set your force ’gainst the river’s course,

      And think to alter its motion.

   Don’t waste a curse on the universe,

      Remember, it lived before you;

   Don’t butt at the storm with your puny form,

      But bend and let it go o’er you.

   The world will never adjust itself

      To suit your whims to the letter,

   Some things must go wrong your whole life long,

      And the sooner you know it the better.

   It is folly to fight with the Infinite,

      And go under at last in the wrestle.

   The wiser man shapes into God’s plan,

      As water shapes into a vessel.

                                         by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Colors

Colors

Your living is determined not so much by

What life brings to you,

As by the attitude you bring to life…

Not so much by what happens to you,

As by the way your mind looks at what happens.

Circumstances and situations do color life.

But you have been given the mind to choose

What the color should be.

                                                    By John Miller

You expect success, you will succeed. If you expect failure, you will fail. It is as simple as that. Negative thinking is s learned habit. We can condition our minds to think positively by replacing negative thoughts with positive ones … hour by hour, day by day. We can't control all of the circumstances of our lives, but we can control our attitude toward them.

Positive mental attitude means having the appropriate attitude under the circumstances.

The Past

   Fling my past behind me, like a robe

   Worn threadbare in the seams, and out of date.

   I have outgrown it.  Wherefore should I weep

   And dwell up on its beauty, and its dyes

   Of Oriental splendour, or complain

   That I must needs discard it?  I can weave

   Upon the shuttles of the future years

   A fabric far more durable.  Subdued,

   It may be, in the blending of its hues,

   Where sombre shades commingle, yet the gleam

   Of golden warp shall shoot it through and through,

   While over all a fadeless lustre lies,

   And starred with gems made out of crystalled tears,

   My new robe shall be richer than the old.

                                                                                            by E W Wilcox

Worth While

A little boy whom his mother had rebuked for not turning a deaf ear to temptation protested,with tears, that he had no deaf ear. But temptation, even when heard, must somehow be resisted. Yea, especially when heard! We deserve no credit for resisting it unless it comes to our ears like the voice of the siren.

  
 It is easy enough to be pleasant

      When life flows by like a song,

   But the man worth while is the one who will smile

      When everything goes dead wrong.

   For the test of the heart is trouble,

      And it always comes with the years,

   And the smile that is worth the praises of earth

      Is the smile that shines through tears.

   It is easy enough to be prudent

      When nothing tempts you to stray,

   When without or within no voice of sin

      Is luring your soul away;

   But it’s only a negative virtue

      Until it is tried by fire,

   And the life that is worth the honour on earth

      Is the one that resists desire.

   By the cynic, the sad, the fallen,

      Who had no strength for the strife,

   The world’s highway is cumbered to-day—

      They make up the sum of life;

   But the virtue that conquers passion,

      And the sorrow that hides in a smile—

   It is these that are worth the homage on earth,

      For we find them but once in a while.

                                                    by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

The Apartment House

     

  

                                               

    Severe against the pleasant arc of sky

      The great stone box is cruelly displayed.

      The street becomes more dreary from its shade,

     And vagrant breezes touch its walls and die.

     Here sullen convicts in their chains might lie,

      Or slaves toil dumbly at some dreary trade.

      How worse than folly is their labor made

     Who cleft the rocks that this might rise on high!

     Yet, as I look, I see a woman's face

      Gleam from a window far above the street.

     This is a house of homes, a sacred place,

      By human passion made divinely sweet.

     How all the building thrills with sudden grace

      Beneath the magic of Love's golden feet!

                                                   

                                                           by Joyce Kilmer

Myself

I have to live with myself, and so,

I want to be fit for myself to know;

I want to be able as days go by,

Always to look myself straight in the eye;

I don't want to stand with the setting sun

And hate myself for the things I've done.

I don't want to keep on a closet shelf

A lot of secrets about myself,

And fool myself as I come and go

Into thinking that nobody else will know

The kind of man I really am;

I don't want to dress myself up in sham.

I want to go out with my head erect,

I want to deserve all men's respect;

But here in this struggle for fame and pelf,

I want to be able to like myself.

I don't want to think as I come and go

That I'm bluster and bluff and empty show.

I never can hide myself from me,

I see what others may never see,

I know what others may never know,

I never can fool myself- and so,

Whatever happens, I want to be

Self-respecting and conscience free.

                                     by By E. A. Guest

Qualifications

I went around to Thompson's store and asked him if he'd give me

work--for Thompson, in the Daily Roar, was advertising for a clerk.  He

looked me over long and well, and then inquired: "What can you do?  Do

you in anything excel?  If you've strong points, just name a few."  His

manner dashed my sunny smile, I seemed to feel my courage fall; I had

to ponder for a while my strongest features to recall.

"Well, I a motor boat can sail, and I a 4-horse team can tool; and I

can tell a funny tale and play a splendid game of pool.  I'm good at

going into debt and counting chicks before they hatch, and I can roll a

cigarette or referee a wrestling match.

"There was a time," the merchant said, "when qualities like those were

fine; alas, those good old days are dead!  The mixer's fallen out of

line!  The business houses turn him down, and customers no longer sigh

for one to show them through the town, and open pints of Extra Dry!

The salesman of these modern days must study things he wants to sell,

instead of haunting Great White Ways and painting cities wildly well.

He must be sober as a judge, he must be genial and polite, from

virtue's path he'll never budge, he'll keep his record snowy white.

Into the world of commerce go and mark the ways of business men; forget

the list of things you know and then come here and try again."

In his remarks there was no bile; with sympathy he gently laughed, and

dropped me, with a kindly smile, adown the elevator shaft.
                                                                               
                                                                                            by Walt Mason

The Things That Haven't Been Done Before

The things that haven't been done before,

Those are the things to try;

Columbus dreamed of an unknown shore

At the rim of the far-flung sky,

And his heart was bold and his faith was strong

As he ventured in dangers new,

And he paid no heed to the jeering throng

Or the fears of the doubting crew.

The many will follow the beaten track

With guideposts on the way.

They live and have lived for ages back

With a chart for every day.

Someone has told them it's safe to go

On the road he has traveled o'er,

And all that they ever strive to know

Are the things that were known before.

A few strike out without map or chart,

Where never a man has been,

From the beaten path they draw apart

To see what no man has seen.

There are deeds they hunger alone to do;

Though battered and bruised and sore,

They blaze the path for the many, who

Do nothing not done before.

The things that haven't been done before

Are the tasks worthwhile today;

Are you one of the flock that follows, or

Are you one that shall lead the way?

Are you one of the timid souls that quail

At the jeers of a doubting crew,

Or dare you, whether you win or fail,

Strike out for a goal that's new?

                                       by Edgar Guest