Pain's victory
Shall be an empty one! Whate'er my lot,
My banner, ragged, but nailed to the mast,
Shall fly triumphant to the very last!

Others so much worse off than I have fought;
Have smiled--have met defeat with unbent head
They shame me into following where they led.
Can I ignore the lesson they have taught?
Strike hands with me! Dark is the way we go,
But souls-courageous line it--that I know!

_Everard Jack Appleton._

From "The Quiet Courage."

IF

If I were fire I'd burn the world away.
If I were wind I'd turn my storms thereon,
If I were water I'd soon let it drown.

_Cecco Angolieri._

If I were fire I'd seek the frozen North
And warm it till it blossomed fairly forth
And in the sweetness of its smiling mien
Resembled some soft southern garden scene.
And when the winter came again I'd seek
The chilling homes of lowly ones and meek
And do my small but most efficient part
To bring a wealth of comfort to the heart.

If I were wind I'd turn my breath upon
The calm-bound mariner until, anon,
The eager craft on which he sailed should find
The harbor blest towards which it hath inclined.
And in the city streets, when summer's days
Were withering the souls with scorching rays,
I'd seek the fevered brow and aching eyes
And take to them a touch of Paradise.

If I were water it would be my whim
To seek out all earth's desert places grim,
And turn each arid acre to a fair
Lush home of flowers and oasis rare.
Resolved in dew, I'd nestle in the rose.
As summer rain I'd ease the harvest woes,
And where a tear to pain would be relief,
A tear I'd be to kill the sting of grief.

If I were gold, I'd seek the poor man's purse.
I'd try to win my way into the verse
Of some grand singer of Man's Brotherhood,
And prove myself so pure, so fraught with good.
That all the world would bless me for the cup
Of happiness I'd brought for all to sup.
And when at last my work of joy was o'er
I'd be content to die, and be no more!

_John Kendrick Bangs._

From "Songs of Cheer."

THE GIFTS OF GOD

Why are we never entirely satisfied? Why are we never at absolute peace
or rest? Many are the answers that have been made to this question. The
answer here given by the poet is that so richly is man endowed with
qualities and attributes that if contentment were added to them, he
would be satisfied