{"1": {"fulltext": "MYGOODPOEHS\\nMH^\\nS^j\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2S\\nLTREb\\nFA1I\\nV", "height": "2951", "width": "1934", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.\\nps 3sTT\\nChap Copyright No\\nShelf -A\u00c2\u00b1A M\\n9^ 1\\nUNITED STATES OF AMERICA.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "My Good Poems\\nBY\\nA. FAIRHURST\\nAUTHOR OF\\nOrganic Evolution Considered, Etc.\\nST. LOUIS\\nCHRISTIAN PUBLISHING COMPANY.\\n1899.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "25382\\n^781\\nLibr\u00c2\u00bb\u00c2\u00bbry of\\nTwo Copies Rt.\\nJUL 23 1900\\nCony right entry\\nH,/9**\\nSECOND COPY.\\nDeliver**! to\\nORDER DIVISION,\\nAUG 3 1900\\nCopyrighted, 1899,\\nBy CHRISTIAN PUBLISHING COMPANY.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "K\u00c2\u00bb x V V A*\\nDEDICATION.\\nTO MY BELOVED COMPANION, WHO HAS LIVED\\nWITH ME DURING MANY YEARS AND MANAGED\\nME WITH A GOOD DEGREE OF SUCCESS; TO\\nTHE BEAUTIFUL AND HEROIC WOMEN OF KEN-\\nTUCKY, WHO ARE FAMOUS IN EVERY LAND; TO\\nTHE GOOD AND NOBLE WOMEN EVERYWHERE,\\nOF THE PRESENT AND OF ALL FUTURE AGES\\nESPECIALLY OF THE YOUNGER AGES AND\\nTO THE CAUSE OF HUMANITY, AND OF TRUTH,\\nTHIS VOLUME IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "PREFACE NO. I.\\nIn the; summer of the year 1898, two martins built\\ntheir nest and reared their young on top of the metallic\\ncovering of an incandescent lamp which hung in front of\\nmy house over the middle of the street.\\nWith mnch interest I watched the birds from day to\\nday, and I wondered that the nest was not destroyed by\\nthe hard rains and strong winds which frequently\\noccurred. At last, after many narrow escapes, the birds\\nwere full-fledged and strong enough to make their flight.\\nWhile I sat on my veranda late one afternoon, the\\nmother-bird, together with other martins, which seemed\\nto have come for the special purpose, held a noisy coun-\\ncil on the wires near the nest. While engaged in\\nthis the mother-bird approached the dome on which was\\nstanding a young martin which had not yet used its\\nwings in flight. With a sudden thrust of her body the\\nmother forced the young bird over the edge of the dome,\\nand as it started to fall it seized some straws which hung\\nover from the nest, from which it hung suspended for\\na few moments, after which it lost its grasp and began to\\nfall. At this critical moment all of the martins which\\nwere sitting on the wires dashed suddenly downward\\npast the falling bird, with wild cries, in order to encour-\\nage it to use its wings in flight. In a moment more they\\nall rapidly ascended, wheeling round and round and\\ngoing higher and higher in larger circles, twittering\\nwith delight as they ascended.\\nThe witnessing of these incidents so impressed me\\nthat I was led to write the first poem in this volume,\\nentitled The Martins. Previous to that time I had\\n5", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "6 PREFACE.\\nhad no desire whatever to write verses. The forcing of\\nthe young bird off of the dome, its attempt to prevent its\\nfall by seizing the hanging straws with its feet, its failure\\nand fall and subsequent flight, to these incidents espe-\\ncially may he attributed the origin of the present\\nvolume.\\nThe second poem written, entitled The Robin, grew\\nout of the song of a robin near my window on a stormy\\nmorning, at dawn, in the preceding April.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "PREFACE NO. II.\\nThis preface is written to inform you that I am\\nalready an author of world-wide reputation. It has fre-\\nquently been said that no author s poems, however good,\\ncan be pushed into the market successfully unless the\\nauthor has at least a national reputation. I agree that\\nthis is right. The dear, sweet public must be protected at\\nall hazards by the publishers, from incompetent rhym-\\nsters, and, even if an author has merit, it is well for all\\nconcerned to keep him on the anxious seat for a reason-\\nable length of time.\\nTo speak the truth briefly and modestly truth is\\nalways modest I inform you that my Drab Book, pub-\\nlished two years ago under the title of Organic Evolu-\\ntion Considered, is known all over the world. I know\\nthis to be true from the numerous reports of my agents\\nwho have traveled everywhere.\\nIt has taken father Adam s fame six thousand years,\\nHomer s nearly three thousand, the fame of Socrates,\\nPlato and Aristotle more than two thousand years to\\nreach us, but the fame of the author of my Drab Book\\nand My Good Poems has flashed all over the world in\\na single year. This is indeed most marvelous.\\nMore than a year ago my leading agent among the\\nHottentots, that great Philosophic Nation of South\\nAfrica, reported to me that all the people of that great\\nnation had adopted by a universal vote, in which they\\nhad a fair count, my Drab Book as an antidote against\\nwitchcraft and all other evils prevalent in that region.\\nThe common method of using the book in that coun-\\ntry is to support it in the split end of a stick which has\\n7", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "8 PREFACE.\\nbeen driven into the ground for that purpose near the\\nfront door of each family mansion. With this pre-\\nventive all the inhabitants sleep soundly aud without\\nfear, only a few watchmen being needed for patrol and to\\narouse the inhabitants at the proper time to resume their\\ndaily and honorable occupations.\\nThe Wild Man of Borneo, who is my agent plenipo-\\ntentiary in Borneo, reports that last summer while he was\\nreading my Drab Book to an immense audience of the\\nmost intelligent natives, who had assembled for the sole\\npurpose of hearing the book read, suddenly the entire\\naudience passed peacefully into a comatose condition\\nbefore he had finished reading the first page. He rightly\\nattributes this incident to the fact that their minds were\\nsuddenly exhausted by the gigantic thoughts with which\\nthey were called on to wrestle. It has been suggested by\\nan enemy of mine that this large audience had fallen\\nasleep, but I have been convinced by my agent that their\\nunconsciousness was much more profound than that\\nwhich exists in the deepest slumber, for it lasted two\\nwhole days and nights, during which time it was impos-\\nsible to arouse any member of the audience. It was,\\ntherefore, a case of true and honorable coma.\\nThe Wild Man of Borneo further reports that the King\\nof Borneo, King Dang-Bang-Weo-Hang, who is an ele-\\ngant and noble specimen of the untutored and uncon-\\ntaminated man of nature, made what seemed to him a sin-\\ngular but a wholly legitimate use of my Drab Book.\\nMy agent had presented to the noble King, i. to King\\nDang-Bang-Weo-Hang, a copy of my Drab Book bound\\nin elegant rhinoceros rawhide.\\nOn the occasion at hand the King, His Royal High-\\nness, King Dang-Bang-Weo-Hang, had partaken of a\\nsuperfluous quantity of raw crocodile beefsteak at an\\nevening feast, in consequence of which he suffered acute\\npains in and about his gastric region. My agent found", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "PREFACE. 9\\nhim in this condition late at night, lying on the front\\nporch of his principal palace, while his chief medicine\\nman was severely flagellating him, i. e., His Royal High-\\nness, King Dang-Bang-Weo-Hang, with the aforesaid\\ncopy of my Drab Book, applying the volume liberally,\\nalternately, successively and successfully to the gastric,\\nepigastric, hypogastric, antegastric, postgastric, digastric\\nand polygastric regions of His Majesty s corpus.\\nA few minutes application of this royal remedy\\nplaced the monarch on his feet and at ease and ready for\\nthe transaction of business.\\nThis noble monarch, His Royal Highness, Dang-Bang-\\nWeo-Hang, has written to me with his own hand and\\nsealed the letter with his royal seal, asking me to send to\\nhis kingdom at the earliest practicable moment, a large\\nship-load of my Drab Books, all bound in rawhide rhi-\\nnoceros binding, to be used as aforesaid in the case of\\nHis Royal Highness.\\nI could easily relate enough such incidents to fill a\\nlarge volume, with regard to the fame of my Drab\\nBook in all parts of the world, but this is unnecessary,\\nsince my only object in writing this preface is to inform\\nyou that I am already an author of world-wide reputation\\nand fame.\\nThis being true, you will be perfectly safe in reading\\nthe present volume and in expressing your unqualified\\nadmiration for its contents without fear of molestation\\nfrom obnoxious critics. In approving this volume the\\nexcellence of your taste and the soundness of your liter-\\nary judgment will never be called in question. You may,\\ntherefore, read the volume in peace and enjoy it to the\\nutmost of your capacity.\\nNor need you hie away into some dark corner in order\\nto read it, but you may sit up boldly in the glaring sun-\\nlight at your front window, and there drink in the beau-\\nties and sublimities of this volume without subjecting", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "10 PREFACE.\\nyourself to criticism or feeling under any obligation to\\napologize to the public.\\nJust read it and enjoy it on your own responsibility,\\nknowing that all the other inhabitants of the world whose\\nopinions are of any value to you will soon be engaged in\\nthe same occupation, and that they will be in perfect\\naccord with all that you feel and think.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "PREFACE NO. III.\\nIt may seem to some members of the dear, sweet pub-\\nlic, that the author of My Good Poems is somewhat\\nvain and entirely too self-conscious in applying the word\\nGood to his poems.\\nNot so. I have used the mildest term possible to con-\\nvey any part of the truth. If I had called the volume\\nBetter or Best Poems, this would have been to insti-\\ntute the odious comparison. If I had called the\\nvolume simply Poems, this would have been to\\nacknowledge that they were destitute of good qualities.\\nI compliment my unnecessary modesty therefore by the\\nuse of Good.\\nI talk to you plainly. I hold nothing back. I wish\\nto take the dear, sweet public into my confidence and to\\nlet you know what is for your own best interest. If\\nauthors would always be frank and truthful with you it\\nwould prevent many heart-burnings and save a deal of\\ntrouble to all concerned.\\nI know better than anyone else what I have writ-\\nten and its value.\\nGo in peace. Farewell;\\nA. Fairhurst.\\nI/EXINGTON, K.Y., NOV. 4, 1899.\\nII", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS.\\nPage.\\nThe Martins 15\\nWho Paints the Flowers 19\\nLife s Battle 22\\nThe Virginia Creeper 36\\nA Sunday Morning in May 38\\nHis Kerricter 41\\nThe Soul s a Harp 43\\nThe Ocean 44\\nHuman Life 47\\nSunrise 48\\nCatching Fleas 49\\nCome Sail With Me 52\\nOld Kentucky 54\\nGod s March 55\\nThe Tides of Life 57\\nThose Good Old Times 59\\nGive My Heart One Day of Freedom 65\\nThere s a Song 66\\nA Storm Will Arise 66\\nThe Ages 67\\nThe Springs of God 69\\nA Leaf 70\\nThe Hen and Her Egg 71\\nSailing 74\\nGod s Greatness 76\\nThe Honey Eee 78\\nThe Old Man 82\\nThe King Decree 84\\nTo the Latter-Day Sage 86\\nA Thousand Million Human Souls 91\\nPolitics is Hell 93\\nThe Migrating Rail 95\\n12", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS. 13\\nPage.\\nThe Whippoorwill 96\\nThe Lost Pup 98\\nMigration of the Fur Seal 99\\nRum 101\\nThe Man in the Moon 105\\nInfinity 109\\nThe Silk Worm 112\\nThe Old Gate 114\\nToil 116\\nOctober 117\\nOld Bill 119\\nI Cannot Answer To-day 124\\nThe Soul and Infinity 125\\nThe Sparrow 126\\nThe Universe 127\\nIn the Woods 129\\nThe Weak are Devoured by the Strong 133\\nThe Lord s Feast 135\\nThe Toad 139\\nThe Old Mill 141\\nThe Rabbit .143\\nOnly a Slum Boy 145\\nTalk With Your Fyes, My Love .149\\nThe Whirlpool 150\\nSome Day 151\\nMy Girl in Dixie 152\\nSing Not of That Which Fadeth 153\\nGod Over All 154\\nFor What Do You Live 156\\nLife s Jumble 158\\nWords Fail 159\\nThe Old Farmer Has Moved to Town 160\\nMammon 166\\nThe Robin 168\\nConceit 171\\nFalling in Love 172", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "14 CONTENTS.\\nPage.\\nLook Unto Him 173\\nThe Worth of Great Men 174\\nA Man of Dignity 176\\nA Limpy Lame Boy 177\\nHow I Caught Him 179\\nA Letter 181\\nThe Lord Careth 182\\nThe Skeeter 183\\nThere s a Light .185\\nThe Golden Goddess 1S6\\nIn June 190\\nWar 191\\nTo the Great Sea 193\\nIgnorance and Unbelief 194\\nHe Ever Worketh 195\\nThat Somebody Would Live the Gospel 197\\nThe Beautiful 198\\n1 Overheard Him Say 199\\nWastefulness 199\\nThe Sunset 201\\nA Mutual Understanden 204\\nPride 207\\nEvolution of Man 211\\nLivingstone 222\\nA Dream 225\\nWinter 226\\nSpring 226\\nFrom Far Away 229\\nI Would Know 230\\nMan s Power 231\\nHelplessness 232\\nThe Locomotive 234\\nArise 239\\nWhat and Whence Our Thoughts 240", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "MY GOOD POEMS.\\nTHE MARTINS.\\nTwo maetins, late from southern skies,\\nSought where to build, and rear their young.\\nThey circled round and counseled much,\\nAnd many a melody they sung,\\nUntil at last, with one accord,\\nThey built their nest high in mid air,\\nUpon the dome o er the electric light,\\nAnd there they watched with constant care.\\nThe mother brooded o er the eggs,\\nAnd with her bosom kept them warm,\\nAnd when the young at last appeared,\\nShe shielded them from summer s storm.\\nShe circled widely o er the land\\nAnd gathered food that they might grow;\\nFrom early morn till close of day\\nOn busy wing she e er did go.\\nAt last they ve grown to bird s estate,\\nTheir plumage is all new and bright,\\nTheir voices echo through the air,\\nTheir wings are fledged for speedy flight.\\n(15)", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "16 MY GOOD POEMS\\nTheir world has been a twelve-inch dome,\\nThey have not seen the great beyond,\\nThey know not why their spirits yearn\\nFor that which they have not yet found.\\nThey know not yet their power of flight,\\nThey know not yet what beauteous sight\\nShall greet their eyes when they shall soar\\nHigh in the shining vault of light.\\nTo dwell upon that dome is death,\\nFor food will fail, and winter kill.\\nThe mother-bird and neighbors wise\\nHold council and decide with skill\\nThat full-grown birds must take their flight;\\nThe mother, with beseeching heart,\\nDraws near the young, and, with her wing,\\nEssays to give the needed start.\\nWith gentle thrust she forces off\\nThe full-fledged nestling from its dome,\\nAnd, as it fell, it grasped the straws\\nThat issued from its narrow home.\\nA moment in suspense it held,\\nAnd tried to gain its little world\\nBut soon the feeble straws gave way\\nAnd downward it was swiftly hurled.\\nThe mother and attendant birds,\\nWho watched upon the neighboring wire,\\nWith song of cheer and lightning wings\\nDashed wildly downward through the air;", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "THE MARTINS. 17\\nWhich, when the nestling saw and heard,\\nIts fainting heart inspired with hope,\\nIts unused wings, flung open wide,\\nBegan the downward power to cope.\\nWith flashing wings it cleft the air,\\nIn chorus loud it joined the choir;\\nIn circles wide they mounted higher,\\nTheir hearts all filled with holy fire.\\nIn widening sweeps they upward rise\\nInto the clean cerulean sky;\\nAnd, as they go, they pour their song\\nFrom out the happy world on high.\\nI watched the birds with straining eyes,\\nI listened with beseeching ears\\nBut ears grew dull and failed to hear,\\nAnd eyes grew dim and full of tears.\\nThe birds have flown to a fairer clime,\\nTheir wings have borne them far away\\nFrom their narrow home to a wider world,\\nThrough the evening dim to the light of day.\\nTheir song still rings within my heart,\\nTheir faith and hope fresh courage give;\\nTheir strength of wing to rise and fly\\nTells of a larger world on high.\\nWho taught the martin how to fly?\\nWho guides her in her homeward flight?\\nWho tells her how to build her nest?\\nWho shields her through the stormy night?", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "18 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nTis He who hears the raven s cry,\\nTis He who sees the sparrow s fall;\\nHe watches all by night and day,\\nHe hears the weak and feeble call.\\nWhen the eve ning shades are longer grown,\\nWhen the sun hangs low in the circled dome,\\nWhen we sit intent at the end of day,\\nAnd question about another liome,\\nWhile still wrapped up in our clod of clay,\\nStriving to know the higher birth,\\nThe Lord will come at even-tide,\\nAnd gently push us from this earth.\\nLike the trembling bird, we may fear to go,\\nBut the Lord in mercy will hear our cry;\\nHis power will bear us on wings of faith,\\nForever upward to worlds on high.\\nAnd when we reach the infinite height,\\nAnd when we see, with undimmed sight,\\nThe untold glories that meet us there,\\nIn the happy world that knows no night,\\nThe growing wonder will ever be,\\nThat we clung to the earth so narrow and dim,\\nThat our faith was ever so little and weak,\\nThat we did not joyfully trust in Him.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "WHO PAINTS THE FLOWEES?\\nT have often inquired,\\nTo find out if I could,\\nWho paints the sweet flowers\\nThat bloom in the wood.\\nOne evening in May,\\nIn the dim twilight,\\nI sat in the wood\\nTo await the dark night.\\nThe sun had gone down,\\nBlack darkness came on,\\nI sat all alone\\nWrapped up in the gloom.\\nThe stillness of death\\nWas reigning supreme,\\nI listened in silence\\nAs if in a dream.\\nI stared with my eyes\\nOut into the dark,\\nWhen down near my feet\\nI saw a bright spark.\\nI listened intently\\nAnd heard a sweet sound\\nWhich seemed to come up\\nFrom out of the ground.\\nAnd then of a sudden\\nThe ground seemed ablaze\\n19", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "20 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nWith sparks of brightness\\nThat caused me amaze.\\nFrom out of the sparks\\nCame a chorus of song\\nRinging out sweetly\\nAs the sparks moved along.\\nTen thousand bright flowers\\nWere springing from earth;\\nThe spirit of spring\\nWas giving them birth.\\nThe sparks in great haste\\nSought the hearts of the flowers,\\nAnd there they close nestled\\nAs if in choice bowers.\\nI drew on my glasses,\\nDetermined to see\\nWhat the sparks and the singing\\nMight happen to be.\\nWhen, lo and behold!\\nI saw the sweet choirs,\\nThe angels of light,\\nWere painting the flowers.\\nThe sparks were the lamps\\nWhich the angels did swing,\\nAnd the sounds were the songs\\nWhich the angels did sing.\\nEach angel of light\\nSat in a sweet flower,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "WHO PAINTS THE FLOWERS? 21\\nAnd swiftly he painted\\nWith all of his power.\\nWith a wisp of his hair\\nWhich he used for a brush,\\nDipped in his bright paint\\nHe first gave it a flush.\\nAnd then with paint blue,\\nMade up of blue sky,\\nMixed up with the dew,\\nHe dashed on the blue.\\nWhen, with angelic skill\\nThe painting complete\\nHe blew in his breath\\nTo make it smell sweet.\\nThey sang and painted\\nWith infinite skill\\nThey painted and sang\\nWith a hearty good will.\\nThe crocus they painted\\nWith gold and dew;\\nThe spring-beauty they streaked\\nWith a roseate hue,\\nWhich they had brought down\\nFrom the clouds at even,\\nWhen the angels above\\nHad painted the heavens.\\nTo the rose-bush they flocked,\\nSinging loud as they went,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "22 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAnd to each pink rose\\nTheir greatest skill lent.\\nAnd when it was garnished\\nAll flowers to defeat\\nAll the angels breathed in it\\nTo make it most sweet.\\nYes, I watched the angels\\nPainting the flowers.\\nI watched them gladly\\nThrough all of night s hours.\\nThey ceased not their song,\\nThey ceased not their work,\\nTill day-light had well-nigh\\nBanished the dark.\\nAnd now I have told you\\nWhat angels can do\\nHow to each sweet flower\\nThey give its bright hue.\\nLIFE S BATTLE.\\nThou weak and nimble spotted fawn,\\nRest thou in peace upon this lawn;\\nThou art most graceful in thy form,\\nThou lendest to this world a charm.\\nThy limbs are molded for fast flight,\\nFor thou art in the world s great fight;", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "life s battle. 23\\nAlthough thy life is free from harm,\\nThou must bound quickly at alarm.\\nThe wolves are now upon thy track,\\nFull swift they fly in baying pack,\\nTheir hungry mouths are seeking thee,\\nThy only hope is fast to flee.\\nNow lend thy limbs thy might and main,\\nGod speed thee swiftly o er the plain,\\nLest soon their cruel fang and claw,\\nShall rend thy flesh as food for maw.\\nI see thee bound in wild dismay;\\nThe yelping pack doth louder bay.\\nI hear thy loud and tender call,\\nAnd then kind death swift endeth all.\\nYou ask me why both wolf and fawn?\\nWhy not just fawn to graze on lawn?\\nHath savage wolf the right to live?\\nHow standeth he beside God s love?\\nDoth nature with her tooth and claw\\nServe only to feed death s great maw?\\nIf helpless innocence go down,\\nIs it because of God s own frown?\\nWithout the battle all were dead,\\nFor by the battle mouths are fed,\\nThe plant is battling with the dead\\nThe earth and air by which it s fed.\\nThe grass, by sunshine overhead,\\nLifts dead to life by which we re fed.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "24 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThe grass by fawn is laid full low,\\nWhilst other grass doth ever grow.\\nThe wolf doth chase the fawn in flight,\\nAnd overtakes her by his might\\nMan swaying sceptre over all\\nDoth conquer fawn and wolf and all\\nGod ruling well his own estate,\\nSubdues alike the small and great.\\nThus from the dead to life we rise\\nTo God who ruleth in the skies.\\nYou ask what mean the claw and fang?\\nWhy come the agony and pang?\\nIs God who ruleth only might?\\nAnd is it true that might makes right?\\nBehind the veil there is no wail,\\nAnd God s great love doth never fail.\\nWe bow, O God, in holy fear,\\nYet wonder why we shed the tear.\\nWe listen while our hearts stand still,\\nWe listen while our blood runs chill,\\nAnd then with doubly bated breath\\nWe listen even unto death,\\nTo hear a voice from out the dark,\\nAnd then we look to see a spark\\nThat leads along life s winding way\\nInto the light of one great day.\\nI know we stand on holy ground,\\nAnd though our ears may catch no sound,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "life s battle. 25\\nAnd though our eyes may fail to see,\\nYet sure it is God s wise decree.\\nBow low thy heart in humble trust,\\nAnd thou shalt know that God is just.\\nThe veil that on thy heart abides\\nIs that which thee from God e er hides.\\nLift up thy veil, let God shine in,\\nIt is the thick black veil of sin,\\nAnd then thou canst more clearly see\\nThat all things are as they should be.\\nBut why the agony and pain\\nThat rise from all as they are slain?\\nIn truth there is but little pain\\nThat s known by beasts when they are slain.\\nTo them there is no fear of death,\\nThey know no life beyond their breath.\\nThe fawn while living eats its food,\\nAnd this is all it knows of good.\\nThe weaker fawns the sooner fall,\\nWhen the fierce wolf is pressing all.\\nThe better fawns will e er survive,\\nAs God doth ever onward drive.\\nGod doth e er seek a better fawn\\nTo graze upon his grassy lawn.\\nFrom good to better they do rise,\\nTill only best at last survive.\\nThe wolves, less fleet, e er lack for meat,\\nAnd so they cease to use their feet,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "26 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAnd thus it happens by this plan\\nThat they yet live who far outran.\\nMight makes not right, but might doth make\\nE er fleeter wolves which can o ertake,\\nAnd fleeter fawns which e er do graze\\nOn God s green pastures many days.\\nBut why not banish fangs and teeth,\\nBy which the fawns are brought to grief?\\nIf fawns alone, they d multiply,\\nSo most of them would surely die.\\nThe grass would fail, soil could not give\\nSufficient food for all to live.\\nFor food they would each other fight,\\nThe strong would conquer by their might.\\nThe strong the Aveak do e er assail,\\nAnd by their might the strong prevail.\\nThe strong e er stronger do become,\\nThe fleet e er fleeter, as they run.\\nGod pushes all to utmost speed,\\nHe strengthens all by greatest deed,\\nAll enter on life s feverish race,\\nThe weak do soonest lose their place.\\nIf strong go down and weak survive,\\nEight soon each kind will cease to live.\\nThose that would tread the upward road\\nMust ever feel the urging goad.\\nThis much I ve said of wolf and deer,\\nAnd of all beasts they have no fear,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "life s battle. 27\\nThey have no conscience and no dread\\nOf things that follow when they re dead.\\nThe power to suffer doth increase\\nWhere soul and conscience have a place.\\nThe grass feels not our heavy tread,\\nThe sponge scarce feels more than if dead.\\nThe oyster s numb, the worm is dull,\\nAnd thus with all that have no skull;\\nThus, rising on through bird and wolf,\\nWe then reach man by leaping gulf.\\nOn earth his sufferings are supreme,\\nFrom things that are and things that seem;\\nHis hopes and fears bring joy and tears,\\nHis conscience adds to joys and fears.\\nThe greatness of man s heart and soul\\nForever press towards some large goal;\\nThe higher flight, the greater fall,\\nDeath comes to him as darkest pall.\\nAs wolf and fawn, man s in the strife;\\nHe presseth hard to hold his life\\nWith mind and heart and cunning skill\\nHe driveth all before his will.\\nThe battle rageth loud and long;\\nThe weak go down before the strong;\\nWhat great, good purpose could it serve\\nIf from this rule God should e er swerve?\\nMight maketh never right at all,\\nBut in the race the weak first fall", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "28 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThus God e er buildeth larger men\\nOf greater soul and sharper ken.\\nBy goad of poverty and fear\\nMan presseth on as flying deer;\\nBy faith and hope he flieth fast,\\nThat he may reach the goal at last.\\nDrawn by the cords of boundless love,\\nHe hasteth towards his home above;\\nBy faith and hope and love and fear,\\nMan ever counteth life most dear.\\nUnless there s pain there is no pleasure,\\nFor both possess one common measure;\\nThat soul that can the most rejoice,\\nCan also bear the heaviest cross.\\nO man, to thee s a higher law;\\nThou shalt not tear like beast with claw,\\nIf, in life s ever urgent race,\\nThe weakest soonest lose their place,\\nWhen low thy brother lies in need,\\nDismount and put him on thy steed;\\nThus, blessing him, thou shalt be blest,\\nFor this great law is God s own best.\\nGod s blessings are enough for all;\\nHe showers them for the great and small;\\nIf greater loaves to thee do fall,\\nDeny not crumbs at beggar s call.\\nWe all are beggar s at God s door,\\nAnd all of us are sadly poor;", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "life s battle. 29\\nSo, when God s blessings fall in showers,\\nDon t crush the weak with tyrant powers.\\nGod seeketh e er in thee to find\\nA purer heart, a stronger mind\\nIf thou wilt eat of Heaven s food,\\nIts strength shall be for thy soul s good.\\nWhen in the end thy body s dust\\nThy soul shall stand among the just,\\nDrawn e er by God s redeeming love\\nThy feet shall stand in heaven above.\\nNo atom can e er cease to be,\\nUnless by God s own wise decree.\\nIf one could cease without his will,\\nThen all creation could stand still.\\nThe lightnings flash, but still they live,\\nAnd to the earth their powers they give.\\nThe heat that in this great world lies\\nIs flashed again into the skies.\\nThe trees that grow from out the earth,\\nThus give the dead a living birth.\\nThe swallow that from egg doth rise,\\nDoth speak of mounting to the skies.\\nThe grain of corn that rots and dies,\\nSends up new life into the skies.\\nThe river that in earth sinks down,\\nGoes flowing still beneath the ground.\\nSo thus our life as flowing river,\\nIn flowing shall flow on forever.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "30 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nWe move from out our tents of clay\\nInto the light of God s great day.\\nOf all that is naught can be lost,\\nThe star that shines, the atom tossed,\\nThe life that dwelleth in the corn,\\nThe roseate hue of early morn,\\nThe lightning s flash, the sun s warm rays,\\nShall live through all the coming days.\\nThe waters will forever flow,\\nThe life within the corn will grow.\\nThe soul that s in us never dies,\\nBut unto heaven it will rise,\\nOr else what means life s great desire\\nThat burneth as a holy fire?\\nWith unquenched flame it feeds the soul,\\nWhile waters deep do o er us roll.\\nItsearcheth wide through heaven and earth,\\nExpectant of a higher birth.\\nAs untaught infant cries for food,\\nSo untaught soul cries up to God;\\nEach cry s a prayer that God doth hear,\\nMade sweeter by the sparkling tear.\\nGod hears the infant s feeblest cry,\\nHe heareth e en the faintest sigh,\\nHe heareth every unvoiced prayer,\\nFor he is present every where.\\nIt is the soul that speaks to God.\\nIt speaketh not in earth-born word,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "life s battle. 31\\nIt speaks in words which God hath given,\\nWhose meanings are well-known in heaven.\\nNo power can us from God divide,\\nNo veil can us from him e er hide,\\nNo distance wide can intervene,\\nBut by the eye of God we re seen,\\nBut by the ear of God we re heard,\\nBut by our cry his heart is stirred.\\nO God, by thy all-wise decree\\nAll things are fast bound up in thee.\\nNo prayer by soul that s fair and pure\\nBut hath its answer stored somewhere.\\nFor food and clothing earthly meat,\\nThe answer now is quite complete.\\nTen thousand foods that meet our eyes,\\nOur appetites do e er surprise;\\nThen if our souls would beauty seek,\\nFrom ev ry corner it doth speak.\\nThe earth doth shine with grass and flowers,\\nBright birds are singing in the bowers,\\nThe ocean yields from out its dells\\nTen thousand tinted pearly shells.\\nThe diamond flasheth back God s light,\\nThe moon and stars e er glow by night.\\nThe wondrous, gorgeous clouds at even\\nReflect the beauteous light of heaven.\\nTo quench our thirst the clouds on wings\\nSupply the fountains of God s springs,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "32 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nTheir sparkling waters flow out cold\\nFrom up in mountains high and bold.\\nAnd then, there s music everywhere,\\nThat flows in sweetly through the air;\\nThe babbling brooks their voices lend,\\nThe blowing winds their songs do send.\\nThe feathered songsters in the wood\\nE er sing their songs in happy mood,\\nWith voices tuned for sweetest praise\\nThey pour their sunshine through the days.\\nWhat mean these songs if God is deaf?\\nHe singeth through the birds to self;\\nHe singeth through man s hoping heart\\nThe joys he ll find when he depart.\\nMan s voice is tuned in sweet accord\\nTo sing the praises of the Lord;\\nHis heart doth sing in holy praise,\\nAnd thus on earth he fills his days.\\nThe pulse of ocean beateth time,\\nThe earth by turning reeleth rhyme;\\nThe stars themselves sing sweet above\\nWhile angels shout that God is love.\\nO, yes, there s music everywhere;\\nFrom throat of bird and distant star\\nThe passing breezes ever bring\\nThe songs that God s own songsters sing.\\nAnd then the morning breezes bring\\nSweet fragrance which the flowers do fling", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "life s battle. 33\\nFrom out their happy hearts at morn,\\nWhich from the angels breath was born.\\nIf for the nose, God scents the rose,\\nIf for the eye, he paints the sky,\\nIf for the ear, tunes voice of bird,\\nIf for the taste, gives grain and herd,\\nIf thus he answers each desire\\nThat calleth to him as a prayer,\\nWill he not hear the soul s great cry\\nFor peace and immortality?\\nTis true we cannot know all whys,\\nWe may not know just why man dies;\\nNor know the meaning of our cries.\\nWe think they point to upper skies.\\nI know we walk beneath the veil,\\nI know to Thee we lift our wail.\\nOur flesh and blood can naught prevail,\\nBut Thou dost dwell within the veil.\\nThou who dost flash Thy light from star,\\nCanst catch our prayer that floats afar,\\nThy angels stand at gates ajar\\nTo greet the prayers that travel far.\\nOpe Thou the gates and let them in,\\nAnd make our souls pure white from sin,\\nThat we may with our eyes behold\\nThe God who doth all things uphold.\\nO God, our souls are bound to Thee,\\nFrom Thee we never can be free\\n3", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "34 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nWe float from time to eternity,\\nBut thou dost hold it all in Thee.\\nShall the dull clod on which we trod\\nOutlast the soul which praises God?\\nShall God s own image, man s own soul,\\nBe blotted out from the great whole?\\nElse why should God through ages long\\nTune heart and voice to praise with song?\\nAnd why create the inner eye\\nTo look away beyond the sky?\\nThe prayer itself is by God s will,\\nIt speaks of promise to fulfill.\\nEach want s a prayer that crieth loud,\\nIts answer is stored up in God.\\nThe soul hath surely come from God,\\nIt ne er hath risen from the clod,\\nThe clod asks naught, nor can it feel,\\nNor can it ever suffer ill.\\nMan s soul looks out from its small home,\\nAnd through the universe doth roam.\\nIt catcheth light from distant star,\\nIt hears the songs through gates ajar,\\nIt doth all beauty here behold,\\nIt doth God s goodness now unfold,\\nIt marketh in God s works great plan,\\nWhich through them flowed since time began.\\nShall soul like this go out in night,\\nBe blotted out by God s own might,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "life s battle. 35\\nAnd lost forever from his sight?\\nIf this be so is might not right?\\nThere is in Thy great sea of love,\\nWhich floodeth earth and heaven above,\\nSufficient of souls food to give,\\nTo satisfy all souls that live.\\nHeaven doth not beg that we should want,\\nIt resteth with our God to grant.\\nThe springs of God cannot run dry,\\nFor they are up in heaven high,\\nTheir waters flow forever bright,\\nThey sparkle in the darkest night;\\nIn flowing they do freely give\\nTo him who would forever live.\\nBehold, there breaketh through the night\\nA star so great, and fair, and bright,\\nIt floods the whole world with its light\\nAnd from man s soul dispels the night.\\nGod s only Son descends to earth,\\nHe speaks to man of second birth,\\nHe telleth things of greatest worth\\nAnd lifteth man up from the earth.\\nHe conquers death with his great might,\\nHe floods the grave with holy light,\\nHe telleth of the home above,\\nHe speaketh most of God s great love.\\nO shining Sun of Righteousness,\\nThou wilt the soul of man e er bless.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "36 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThou wilt redeem from cruel death,\\nWe praise thee with our dying breath.\\nThe sun that now sinks in the west,\\nWill rise to-morrow in the east.\\nThe soul that sinks in life s great west,\\nWill rise again at place of rest.\\nWe come at last, life s troubles o er,\\nAnd sit upon the boundless shore,\\nWhere we do hear the boatman s call,\\nThen quickly we abandon all.\\nWe leave our bodies to the bier,\\nTo be bedewed by love s sad tear,\\nAnd step in boat upon the shore,\\nAnd then we re swiftly ferried o er.\\nTHE VIRGINIA CREEPER.\\nThou sweet Virginia Creeper,\\nClimbing nimbly o er the wall,\\nNo one hears thy noiseless footsteps\\nAs of angels soft they fall.\\nThou dost climb with nimble fingers,\\nPressing close against the wall,\\nSeeking ev ry nook and cranny,\\nWhere thy fingers gently fall.\\nThou dost flatten out thy fingers,\\nThou dost deftly press thy toes\\nGainst the stones that sit beneath them,\\nAs o er all thy beauty grows.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "THE VIRGINIA CREEPER.\\n37\\nCreeping out in all directions,\\nSpreading widely o er the wall,\\nThou art ever closely clinging,\\nThou dost never fear a fall.\\nThou art humble in endeavor,\\nThou art trusting in thy place,\\nClinging ever to the stronger,\\nWhich supports thee in thy place.\\nYet in weakness thou dost shelter,\\nWith thy mantle widely spread,\\nThe strong wall to which thou clingest,\\nFrom the scorching rays o erhead.\\nWhen the frosts of autumn kiss thee,\\nCausing first a gentle flush,\\nThen, with other kisses added,\\nBringing out thy crimson blush,\\nThen thou smilest in thy beauty,\\nThen we know thy gentle power,\\nWhich comes pulling at our heart-strings,\\nTill on thee our blessings shower.\\nFrom the humble, clinging creeper\\nLearn this lesson as to duty\\nIf thy lot in life is humble,\\nWith thy mantle spread in beauty,\\nShelter him to whom thou clingest,\\nUnto thee he stands a wall,\\nFor thy shelter will be gracious,\\nAnd thy beauty shall not fall.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "A SUNDAY MORNING IN MAY.\\nf~\\\\N a bright Sunday morn,\\nIn the middle of May,\\nI sat in the grove\\nWhile the birds sang away.\\nThe Cat-bird stood up\\nAt the head of the choir,\\nHe ran through the scale\\nAnd sang a sweet air.\\nHe showed very plainly,\\nBy his clear ringing lay,\\nThat he meant to give tone\\nTo the songs of the day.\\nAnd then Robin-red-breast,\\nWith voice tuned for the choir,\\nTrilled loudly and gladly\\nIn tones that were higher.\\nOut sang the plain Robin\\nIn measure and form,\\nAnd in volume so great\\nAs if waking the morn.\\nThen from his low perch,\\nFarther back in the wood,\\nPiped in the gay Red-bird\\nAs loud as he could.\\nHis whistle was clear,\\nHis voice was full strong,\\nAnd it harmonized well\\nWith the plain Robin s song.\\n3S", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "A SUNDAY MORNING IN MAY. 39\\nUp in a dead tree,\\nSitting fully in view,\\nWere two Quaker doves\\nIn their garments all new.\\nLike statutes they sat\\nAnd listened with grace,\\nTill moved by the spirit\\nIn their resting place,\\nThey began to express,\\nIn sweet minor tone,\\nThe joys of the Sabbath\\nThat to them had flown.\\nThe Lark, from his perch\\nOn the top of a tree,\\nIn his bright golden vest,\\nSang out in wild glee.\\nHe poured from his heart,\\nIn clear, thrilling voice,\\nA pure song of praise\\nThat made all rejoice.\\nThe little Ground-sparrow\\nSat chirping away,\\nHelping thus to fill up\\nThe praise of the day.\\nAlthough the Ground-sparrow\\nWas not fashionably dressed,\\nHe seemed in good standing,\\nFor he stood with the best.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "40 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThe Eed-headed Wood-pecker,\\nAlways jolly and free,\\nBeat time with his bill\\nOn a neighboring tree.\\nAnd then when a lull\\nHad come in the singing,\\nFrom out in the wood\\nA new voice came ringing.\\nIt trilled all the scales\\nKnown to music of bird,\\nThe flats and the sharps\\nCould plainly be heard.\\nThe bass and the tenor\\nAnd alto were sung,\\nYet the clear ringing voice\\nWas never unstrung.\\nIt sang like the Robin,\\nLike the Jay-bird did talk,\\nIt cooed like the dove,\\nAnd screamed like the hawk.\\nAnd then from its discord\\nTurning sharply away,\\nIt poured from its heart,\\nThrough the bright shining day,\\nA song of such sweetness\\nAnd beauty and charm,\\nThat all other songsters\\nSat still in alarm,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "HIS KERRICTER. 41\\nLest their own singing\\nShould cease to be heard,\\nBecause of the song\\nOf the Mocking-bird.\\nHIS KEKKICTER.\\n\\\\/ou say I ve lost my kerricter?\\nPray tell me, sir, what is that?\\nIs it a Yankee name for a spade, sir,\\nOr a new-fangl d name for a hat?\\nI ve niver seen no kerricter\\nThat I iver own d in my loife,\\nPerhaps it s somethin peculiar, sir,\\nThat may be belongin to my woife.\\nIf I iver did hev a kerricter,\\nIt may in auld Oirland make shift,\\nBut I told Biddy when packin sir,\\nThat nothin behoind should be lift.\\nIt s ivident, sir, that my kerricter\\nWas overlook d by her in her haste,\\nBut if they foind it wanderin sir,\\nI ll just hev them ship me the baste.\\nI niver hev missed my kerricter,\\nIt s a thing for which I ve no nade;\\nI m sure it would be better, sir,\\nIf I had a shinin new spade.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "42 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAs to dhrummin up my kerricter,\\nAuld ocean is moighty woide,\\nIt had better pick grass for itsilf sir,\\nAnd go roamin on tother soide.\\nThere s some people, sir, with kerricter,\\nThat s no bitter off than mysilf\\nJudgin from what I ve heerd, sir,\\nIt don t add much to one s wilth.\\nI knowed a big mon with a kerricter,\\nOh, he was a moighty foine mon,\\nOf his kerricter he boasted, sir,\\nAnd he was a big politishon.\\nHe was al ys defendin his kerricter,\\nBut he niver brought it to show,\\nSo what his foine kerricter looked like\\nI niver did half way know.\\nIf its good to hev a kerricter,\\nMay be you kin make me a lind\\nAnd if I find it rompin good, sir,\\nStraight back to auld Oirland I ll sind.\\nAnd when I resave my kerricter,\\nFrom the shores of the Green Emeral Oislc,\\nIf you are needin to borry, sir,\\nI ll let you have moine for awhoile.\\nThey say when you ve lost your kerricter,\\nIt s not very asy to foind;\\nBut why they don t advertoise, sir,\\nIs not very clear to my moind.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "THE SOUL S A HARP.\\nTTie soul s a harp that s played upon\\nBy every wind that blows.\\nIts strings are closely set and drawn\\nThe breezes are the bows.\\nSome days the strings in quiet lie,\\nThe breezes fail to flow;\\nAgain they sing in merry tune,\\nWhen breezes briskly blow.\\nAnd then they sound in discord loud\\nWhen storms arise without;\\nThey re tuned to nature s every mood,\\nThat circleth them about.\\nWhen darkest clouds o ercast the skies,\\nSad murmur flows from strings\\nWhen sunshine poureth in its warmth,\\nAll murmur taketh wings.\\nAt last the harp, grown tired by use,\\nIts strings in silence lie\\nThe earthly breeze they now refuse\\nThey re tuned for by and by.\\n43", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "THE OCEAN.\\nThou mighty, restless ocean wide,\\nI hear thy ever-beating tide\\nWhich throbs upon thy rock-bound shore,\\nAs pulse of time forever more.\\nThou hold st the earth in thy embrace,\\nAnd hidest it with thy broad face\\nNaught can prevail against thy power,\\nWhich over all in might doth tower.\\nThou wild and dark and billowy waste,\\nThy waves in madness wildly haste\\nBefore the tempest s driving breath,\\nO erwheiming man in sudden death.\\nLeaping, roaring in thy madness,\\nFierce and savage in thy greatness,\\nAll unconquered and untamed,\\nNo one hath thine arms e er chained.\\nThy billows strong, mad riot run,\\nNaught can upon thy bosom shun\\nTheir frenzy as they wildly rush\\nNone can their angry roaring hush.\\nSee helpless man upon thy face,\\nThou makest sport of his proud race;\\nHis fleets are buried by thy might\\nIn thine own depths of endless night.\\nFretting, rushing, roaring, pounding,\\nIn thy fury loud resounding;\\n44", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "the soul s a harp. 45\\nTossing high in restlessness,\\nThy soul is burdened with distress.\\nKejoicing in thy untamed power,\\nThou standest ready to devour\\nAll things that come to thine embrace,\\nOf every tribe and every race.\\nThou all-consuming ocean wide,\\nWhat wonders in thy depths reside!\\nWhat countless treasures dost thou keep\\nLocked in thy caverns dark and deep\\nThou holdest in thy secret caves\\nA countless host of unmarked graves,\\nOf those whose hearts were filled with glee\\nWhen they sailed out upon the sea.\\nAs some sailed on from day to day\\nWith joyful hope and spirits gay,\\nThere came at last the blackened sky,\\nThy billows rose in fury high.\\nTheir ships were tossed in sport by waves\\nTill they sank down to unknown graves;\\nUnseen by mortal eye they sleep\\nBeneath thy billows dark and deep.\\nWhat sacred hopes were wrecked by thee\\nOf those who gladly sailed to sea!\\nTheir lives went out in wild dismay,\\nIn blackest night or darkest day.\\nScarce was there time with dying breath\\nTo breathe short prayer before dread death", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "46 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nHad swiftly claimed them for his own,\\nWhen to thy fury they were thrown.\\nThey gave themselves in trust to thee\\nWhen they sailed forth upon the sea;\\nThy kindness they did ever crave,\\nThou gavest them an unknown grave.\\nThou smilest in thy sweetest mood,\\nMak st promise of the greatest good,\\nTill man is lured upon thy deep,\\nThen givest thou eternal sleep.\\nO hearts that in the ocean lie,\\nO spirits that forever cry,\\nAnd souls that do forever weep\\nAmid thy darkest caverns deep,\\nYour voices in the ocean groan,\\nYour lonesome spirits ever moan\\nAnd sound to shore their dark despair,\\nBorne faintly through the evening air.\\nTo hearts that sit upon the shore\\nAnd gaze in silence ever more\\nWith eyes far searching o er the sea\\nExpecting there lost sail to see,\\nThere cometh naught but sad refrain\\nFrom out the dark and throbbing main,-\\nWho sailed to sea come not again,\\nThey dwell within the boundless main.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "HUMAN LIFE.\\nThe life of man is a passing spark\\nThat dieth quick within the dark.\\nSometimes it s like the lightning s flash\\nThat endeth in a thunder crash.\\nAs passing bird he cometh on\\nAnd lights a moment, then is gone.\\nHe s driven like the clouds of heaven,\\nNo place of rest on earth is given.\\nHe cometh like the dew of night,\\nWhich morning sun doth put to flight.\\nAs leaf that falleth from the tree,\\nHe quickly falls in God s great sea.\\nAs grain of sand borne back from shore,\\nSo his career is quickly o er.\\nLike running brook he swift doth go,\\nAnd murmuring to the sea doth flow.\\nHis life s a flower that blooms and dies,\\nA sweot perfume that swiftly flies,\\nA bubble that doth swell and rise,\\nA tint that decks the evening skies,\\nA meteor s flash that leaves no trail,\\nA cry within the dark, a wail,\\nA pang, at times, with no relief,\\nA passing cup brim full of grief,\\nA thought, a love, a faith, a hope,\\nAn effort with death s power to cope,\\nA tick of clock, a pulse, a breath,\\nAnd then swift endeth all in death.\\n47", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "SUNRISE.\\nThe snow lay white upon the earth,\\nTime to the morn was giving birth;\\nThe sun his heralds forth had sent,\\nWhich to the sky their glory lent.\\nAll high above was clear and fair,\\nAnd bright and pure was morning air;\\nLow down and stretching far and wide,\\nLay burning clouds decked in their pride.\\nStretched long upon their narrow beds,\\nTheir garments glowed with all the reds,\\nWhile crowded closely in between\\nWere purest tints of blue and green.\\nSo delicate the rose and fair,\\nIt melted into liquid air.\\nThe purple faded into dark,\\nAs swiftly fled the glowing spark.\\nThe tints so dainty and so clean,\\nWere fit for robes of heavenly queen.\\nNo human hand can ever trace\\nSuch living tints and forms of grace.\\nThe eye beheld the wondrous sight,\\nDrank in the mystic rays of light\\nThat played upon the garments bright\\nOf morning s robes, then took their flight.\\nPoor mortal words can not express\\nThe radiant scene, the graciousness,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "CATCHING FLEAS. 49\\nThe splendor of the morning sky\\nLit up by sunbeams from on high.\\nWhat promise of the day to come,\\nThus greets us with the morning sun!\\nLet birth of morn in glory fair\\nHelp fill our days with beauty rare.\\nThe glory s shed from out the sky,\\nIt cometh down from God on high;\\nIt speaketh of the by and by\\nWhen mortal man shall cease to sigh.\\nIf sunbeams in the morning cloud\\nThus rich the earth with splendor shroud,\\nWhat glories shall the heavenly sky\\nThrow round the soul in worlds on high.\\nCATCHING FLEAS.\\nT saw a big man hunting fleas,\\nAnd he was tall, but on his knees;\\nHis head was sharp, his nose was big,\\nAnd on his head he wore a wig.\\nSaid I to him, Why on thy knees?\\nSaid he to me, I m catching fleas;\\nAll day I spend upon my knees,\\nFor strong my mind doth run to fleas.\\nYou see my head runs to a point,\\nTo hold my mind that stays upon t;\\nHe who would a good fleaman be\\nMust make his head a point, you see.\\n4", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "50 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nI am a fleaman of great skill,\\nFor to it I bring all my will;\\nAnd then my will it rules my mind,\\nAnd so the flees I quickly find.\\nI watched him as he worked with skill,\\nHe swift his sack with fleas did fill\\nNo flea could hide from his sharp sight*\\nHe caught each flea in its fast flight.\\nI stood and gazed, and was amazed\\nThe more I gazed the more amazed\\nThat skill so great should ever be\\nIn any man to catch a flea.\\nWhat doest thou with things so small,\\nThat thou dost give thy time and all\\nThy skill and strength and wit of mind\\nSuch hopping mites to catch and find?\\nMy only trade is catching fleas,\\nAnd to my trade I give my days\\nWhen I have caught them then I choose\\nIn one short hour to turn them loose\\nI am a man of one idee,\\nSo I do naught but catch the flea;\\nThe man who one thing well can do\\nDon t into other business go.\\nI said to him, What knowest thou\\nOf Heaven above or earth below?\\nSaid he to me, I just know how\\nTo catch the flea, and that I do.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "CATCHING FLEAS. 51\\nThere are no Heaven and earth to me,\\nFor I know naught but just the flea;\\nTo catch them gives such peace of mind\\nThat 1 have time naught else to find.\\nTake warning, O ye men of mind,\\nWho ought the best of things to find,\\nThat in your efforts to find ease,\\nYou do not take to catching fleas.\\nThe flea is good, he has his place,\\nAnd so has the great human race;\\nThe world is wide and God is great,\\nAnd let us not them underrate.\\nSpread out your mind through time and space,\\nLook all around and view the face\\nOf this great world in which we live,\\nAnd to the Lord all glory give.\\nYou who direct the human mind,\\nIn this poor fleaman well may find\\nA fine example of your skill\\nIn helping to defeat God s will.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "COME, SAIL WITH ME.\\n^v come, my dear, and sail with me\\nThe waters o er on life s smooth sea;\\nMy bark is here, O come, my dear,\\nAnd then right soon this port we ll clear.\\nThe suii doth shine, soft blows the wind,\\nThe waters lie in peace most kind;\\nO come, my dear, and sail with me\\nThe waters o er on life s smooth sea.\\nThe sail is set for breezes yet,\\nThat Heaven will in kindness let;\\nBright shines her prow, and strong her bow,\\nRight sharp her keel, so come right now.\\nThe breezes blow so soft and low,\\nThat out of port we ll gently flow,\\nAnd then away, by light of day,\\nWe ll glide to ocean from this bay.\\nCome right along, my heart is strong,\\nAnd we will make the voyage long;\\nIf storms arise and fill the skies,\\nMy ship is safe as on she flies.\\nCome, don t delay, let s be away,\\nFor calms may come another day;\\nNow let us start with merry heart,\\nFor this will be the better part.\\nCome, now choose, but don t refuse,\\nAnd then the ship I ll quickly loose;\\n52", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "COME, SAIL WITH ME. 53\\nO come, my dear, and sail with me\\nThe waters o er on life s smooth sea.\\nYour words are fair, O good, kind sir,\\nAnd deep my heart they truly stir;\\nBut is your sail not quite too frail\\nYour gallant ship for two to sail?\\nIf I embark and take my heart,\\nFor what good port wilt thou then start?\\nAs on you speed, if hearts grow dead,\\nThey ll sink thy ship like weights of lead.\\nO speak the truth, wilt thou, forsooth,\\nE er love me as in days of youth?\\nA woraan s heart should never start\\nUnless it sees the landing mart.\\nThe sky is clear, and sweet the air,\\nAnd all thy words are good and fair;\\nBut as we sail will heart grow frail,\\nSo that the promised port we ll fail?\\nCome, now, at start, e er we depart,\\nAnd talk to me from out thy heart\\nIf heart speaks clear warm words of cheer,\\nThen soon this quiet port we ll clear.\\nO yes, I see, it speaks to me,\\nAnd pours my heart brim full of glee;\\nAnd so, my dear, I ll sail with thee\\nThe waters o er on life s smooth sea.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "OLD KENTUCKY.\\nT sing of Old Kentucky,\\nThou land of chivalry;\\nThy fields are fair,\\nNone to compare,\\nThy hillsides bright and sunny.\\nThou land of heroes sleeping,\\nWho fell for freedom bleeding;\\nStrong were their arms\\nTo shield from harms,\\nTheir hearts were great and loving.\\nThou land of milk and honey,\\nThou land of peace and plenty.\\nThy maidens sweet,\\nThy coursers fleet,\\nHave made thy fame an envy.\\nBroad lie thy fields in beauty,\\nStrong are thy hearts for duty;\\nWith faith in God\\nThy sons e er trod\\nThis land of Eden s beauty.\\nThy sons can ne er forget thee,\\nIf danger shall beset thee,\\nWhere er they roam\\nAway from home,\\nThey ll swiftly fly to save thee.\\nMy heart to thee turns gladly,\\nBut sometimes it beats sadly,\\n54", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "god s march. 55\\nLest thou forget\\nThy mission set\\nBy Him who ruleth wisely,\\nO sons of Old Kentucky,\\nO daughters, fair and lucky,\\nStand firm for God,\\nDefend your sod,\\nAnd thus adorn humanity.\\nGOD S MAECH.\\nr^ od is marching in the ages,\\nHe is making history s pages,\\nHe speaketh through His sages\\nWhile his chariot rolleth on.\\nGod pusheth with His might,\\nHe shineth with His light,\\nHe always doeth right,\\nWhile the ages He unfolds.\\nGod driveth on the race,\\nAt an ever faster pace,\\nTo gain a higher place\\nMong the kingdoms He doth rule.\\nGod ruleth over all,\\nHe doth each nation call,\\nHe maketh each to fall\\nAs He floods and ebbs the tide.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "56 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nGod s arms are great and strong,\\nHe doth the march prolong,\\nAnd He f orceth all along\\nAs He walketh in His might.\\nTo the music of the spheres,\\nTo the wail of dying years,\\nTo the drop of falling tears\\nHe doth open His great heart.\\nWhile time reels out the years\\nAt the drum-beat of the spheres,\\nAs man doth shed his tears\\nGod s great purpose doth unfold.\\nGod driveth fast ahead,\\nMid the living and the dead,\\nHis glory He doth spread\\nAs His garments scatter light.\\nGod turneth not aside,\\nStraightforward doth He stride,\\nNaught before Him can abide,\\nFor He marcheth unto victory.\\nGod seeketh ever best,\\nHe knoweth never rest,\\nAll souls by Him are blest,\\nFor His blessings ever fall.\\nGo, then, and march with God,\\nAnd on you He ll not trod,\\nBe sure to never plod\\nFor He leaves the slow behind.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "THE TIDES OF LIFE. 57\\nGod unto man doth call,\\nLet man before Him fall\\nAnd for His blessings all\\nPour out praise through all his days.\\nTHE TIDES OF LIFE.\\nHPheke s sadness in my heart to-day,\\nI cannot tell just how I feel,\\nNor do I know just how to say\\nThe things that through my spirit steal.\\nThe birds have flown, the trees are brown,\\nThe sky is black with weeping cloud;\\nThe leaves are falling slowly down,\\nThe earth is wrapped in nature s shroud.\\nLife fast doth ebb from out the north,\\nThe tide hath turned and floweth south;\\nIt taketh all that seems of worth,\\nAs in its might it floweth forth.\\nIt leaves a chill within my veins,\\nWhich speaks of winter s deadly blast.\\nIt seems that naught of life remains,\\nThat swelled the tide in summer past.\\nThe tide of life doth ebb and flow\\nIn God s great throbbing sea of life;\\nIt maketh all things live and grow\\nWhen in its flood-tide it is rife.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "58 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAnd then it ebbeth fast away,\\nAnd sweepeth all before its might\\nIt gathereth strength another day,\\nAnd rises to its former height.\\nGod floods and ebbs the living tides,\\nWhich make all things to live and die.\\nLife s ocean in Him e er abides,\\nFrom which He doth all life supply.\\nHis rising tides fill full the cup\\nWith which each mortal is possessed.\\nFrom this his life he daily sups,\\nBut drained too deep he is distressed.\\nWithout God s tide naught could abide,\\nDeath everywhere would reign supreme.\\nIts flood doth sweep both strong and wide,\\nAnd doth the life of all redeem.\\nAt last, with empty cups, on shore\\nOf God s eternal living sea,\\nWe ll wait the rising tide once more,\\nTo fill our cups with life to be.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "I\\nTHOSE GOOD OLD TIMES.\\nn these latter days\\nOf new kinds of people\\nWith new-fangled ways\\nAnd many inventions,\\nI like to go back\\nTo old-fashioned ways\\nAnd old-fashioned people\\nWho had other intentions.\\nFrom out the dim past\\nThe breezes come blowing.\\nFrom memory s halls\\nSweet incense comes flowing,\\nOf days that look large\\nIn spite of the distance,\\nOf days that have pierced\\nThrough time s strong resistance.\\nThe old-fashioned fire-place\\nOn nights that were cold,\\nFilled in with gum back-log,\\nThen wood that was old\\nAnd well-dried piled high\\nOn the old-fashioned dog-irons,\\nLoudly crackled and roared,\\nAnd intensely it poured\\nGenerous heat all around,\\nSo that winter s cold blasts\\nInto summer were turned.\\n59", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "60 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nIn front of the fire\\nThe rabbit hung roasting;\\nIn the hot embers\\nPotatoes were toasting;\\nUp close to the fire\\nThe apples lay simmering\\nAnd spitting in agony dire.\\nIn the big iron oven\\nThe corn-pone was browning,\\nWhile the hominy simmered\\nIn the pot on the coals.\\nThe fire-light shimmered,\\nThe grease-lamp glimmered,\\nThe basket of apples\\nPassed briskly around.\\nOh, those were the days\\nWhen to live was worth living;\\nThe days when appetite\\nWas always specially good;\\nWhen old-fashioned things\\nWere dished up for food.\\nWhen preserves stood alone,\\nAnd molasses was thick,\\nWhen pig s feet were well cooked,-\\nDays when anything would stick\\nTo the ribs of a boy,\\nAnd would make him grow strong,\\nSo he could hollow and jump,\\nAnd tumble and romp,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "THOSE GOOD OLD TIMES. 61\\nAnd move round in the world\\nAs a living boy should.\\nThose were the good days\\nWhen sausage stood in repute,\\nSo good that none could dispute;\\nOf big fat cucumber pickles\\nFilled chuck full of vinegar\\nMade from real apple cider.\\nAh! they were smacking victuals.\\nIn those days you could stand\\nWith pie in each hand,\\nAnd take a big bite\\nTo suit your appetite,\\nAnd tuck it away\\nWithout any delay;\\nOr with a hunk of gingerbread\\nChucked under each arm,\\nYou could wander around\\nAnd eat where you pleased,\\nWith no fear you d upset\\nThe terrible laws of etiquette.\\nIn those good old days\\nThere was nothing you couldn t eat,\\nSausage, ham, and pigs feet,\\nBlackberry jam, punken-butter,\\nApple-sauce and apple-butter;\\nRabbit, possum and persimmons,\\nRoasted goose and all its trimmens;\\nYoung pig roast, and quail on toast,\\nAll of which were specially good.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "MY GOOD POEMS..\\nIn the country out there\\nWere whole acres of air\\nFor each one to breathe,\\nAnd there was plenty to spare,\\nFor no one could receive\\nInto his body and live\\nThe whole supply granted.\\nAnd then to go out\\nIn the cool of the morn\\nAnd see the sun rise\\nThrough the old apple-trees,\\nAnd feel the cool breeze\\nAs it kissed your warm cheeks\\nAnd played through your hair\\nO this was the live air,\\nThat after the warm night\\nSent a thrill of delight\\nThrough your body and soul,\\nAnd made you feel in your heart\\nThat you d never grow old.\\nAnd then to stretch out your arms\\nAs far as ever you could,\\nAnd just throw back your head\\nAnd yawn as much as you would,\\nAnd draw all the fresh air\\nInto your lungs that you could,\\nAh, this was delicious beyond expression.\\nFrom on top of the hill\\nCame the blithe whistle of the quail", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "THOSE GOOD OLD TIMES.\\nFloating down in the breeze\\nThrough the old apple-trees.\\nOn the hillside could be seen\\nThe cows feasting on grass\\nThat was tender and green,\\nAnd the horses filing down\\nAlong the path in the field,\\nExpecting their journey to yield\\nA breakfast of water and corn,\\nWhich was due them at morn;\\nThe pigs squealing out there,\\nWith their voice of despair,\\nSounded sweet in the air.\\nAnd then to drink from a gourd,\\nFrom the old well in the yard,\\nThe cold, sparkling water\\nDrawn with bucket and sweep\\nFrom down ever so deep\\nIn the cold earth.\\nAnd just out there\\nTo wash your face\\nAnd wet your hair\\nWith the living water,\\nFilled your heart with good cheer\\nIn the bright, blessed morning,\\nAnd gave promise of life\\nAnd good health for many a year.\\nOh the spirit of the morning,\\nBreathing through the fresh air\\n63", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "64 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThe spirit of the cold water\\nSo sparkling and fair!\\nThe spirit of life in the green earth,\\nAnd in moving things of higher birth,\\nAll flow through man s spirit\\nAnd give it beauty and worth.\\nO man, thou poor mortal,\\nOpen up ev ry portal\\nOf thy soul in dire need,\\nThat in joy it may feed\\nOn the streams of life\\nThat are evermore flowing\\nFrom the water and air,\\nFrom sunshine so fair,\\nFrom the song of the bird,\\nAnd the voice of the herd;\\nFrom meadow and mountain\\nAnd the cool flowing fountain;\\nFrom the rose and the leaf,\\nFrom the grain in the sheaf,\\nFrom the clouds in the air,\\nFrom everything and every where.\\nThy soul will be blest\\nIf it can receive\\nWhat eternally flows\\nFrom out of God s springs;\\nAnd be doubly blest,\\nIf it can believe\\nThat from His hand\\nComes all it receives.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "GIVE MY HEAET ONE DAY OF FREEDOM.\\n^ive my heart one day of freedom,\\nTo wander wherever it will\\nTo fly like the birds in the spring-time,\\nOver mountain and valley and hill.\\nGive my heart one day of freedom,\\nTo fly to the woods and the hills,\\nTo drink from the cool flowing fountains\\nThat flow in bright sparkling rills.\\nGive my heart one day of freedom\\nTo fly from the haunts of men,\\nTo search through earth s fairest Edens\\nOn mountain, in wildwood, and glen.\\nGive my heart one day of freedom,\\nTo breathe the pure mountain air,\\nThat its currents may flow more freely,\\nAnd inspire me with visions more fair.\\nGive my heart one day of freedom,\\nTo sing and to shout all the day,\\nWhere no sound of a human footstep\\nCan chase my freedom away.\\n(5) 65", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "THEEE S A SONG.\\nThere s a song that no mortal has sung,\\nIt is tuned to the notes most divine;\\nIt flows from the lips of redeemed\\nIn sweet strains that no harp can refine.\\nBright angels have sought it to sing,\\nBut their voices have faltered and failed\\nTheir harps have stood silent and still\\nWhile the song of redemption prevailed.\\nOn the banks of the river of life\\nThe song of redemption is sung,\\nWhile in silence the angels all stand\\nHolding harps that are mute and unstrung\\nWide, wide o er the plains it resounds,\\nAnd echoes from mountains above\\nThe song that no angel can sing\\nIs redemption through infinite love.\\nA STOEM WILL AEISE.\\nA storm will arise on the morrow,\\nFor the air is now stifling and still;\\nI feel that the powers above me\\nAre now moving against my will.\\nI see not the hand that is moving,\\nBut I know that it pushes amain;\\nIt is forging the cyclone and thunder,\\nAnd my efforts will all be in vain.\\n66", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "THE AGES. 67\\nIn silence ana awe I stand waiting\\nFor the storm in its fury to rise\\nWell I know that after its madness\\nSoon again I shall see the clear skies.\\nThe hand that drives on the storm-wind,\\nThat builds the fierce hurricane s wrath,\\nSweeps darkness from out of the heavens\\nWhen the storm has swept by in its path.\\nTHE AGES.\\nThe ages are crowded together,\\nThey are borne on the stream of time;\\nThe past ever lives in the present,\\nAnd renders each age more subline.\\nThe thoughts that have lived are still living,\\nThe deeds that were done never die;\\nThe heroes who fell still redeem us\\nThe ages bear onward their cry.\\nEach thought that is born in the present\\nShall thrill through the ages to come;\\nEach deed that is wrought by endeavor,\\nHas all coming time for its home.\\nWe stand and we view the present,\\nWe see all the ages combined,\\nWe pluck the rich fruit that they bring us\\nBy time from dark dross more refined.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "68 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nWe call to the past to help us,\\nShe opens her bountiful hand,\\nShe pours out her treasures upon us,\\nAnd scatters them wide through the land.\\nAll ages are singing and shouting,\\nThey call unto us who now live\\nThey bear all the wealth of all nations\\nWhich to us they most freely would give.\\nWe sow to the winds in the present,\\nBut the harvest eternal shall spring;\\nThe reaping must follow the sowing\\nGod s sickles forever shall ring.\\nThe swallows fly swiftly o er us,\\nAnd the eagle floats high and sublime\\nAnd then the vile serpent and dragon\\nCreep forth on the bosom of time.\\nWe skim like the swallows above us,\\nOr we creep like the dragons below;\\nGood angels may come to inspire us,\\nOr demons to fill us with woe.\\nWhat, then, shall we take from the ages?\\nAnd what be the path Ave shall tread?\\nShall we soar with the swallow and eagle,\\nOr creep with the dragon till dead?", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "THE SPKINGS OF GOD.\\nThe springs of God can never run dry,\\nIn the beautiful mountains they stand up\\nhigh;\\nThe angels of God their waters supply\\nFrom fountains above that can never run dry.\\nThe breath of the angels on the beautiful moun-\\ntains\\nMelteth the snow to fill up the fountains\\nWhile the snow shall fall the fountains shall flow,\\nWhile the mountains shall stand the snow will\\ngrow.\\nWhile the winds bring the clouds the snow will\\nnot fail;\\nWhile the ocean makes clouds the winds will\\nthem sail;\\nWhile God wills the ocean shall stand,\\nFor he holdeth it fast in his omnipotent hand.\\nThe springs of God can never run dry,\\nFor up in the mountains of Heaven so high\\nThe oceans of God their waters supply,\\nAnd this is the reason they can never run dry.\\n69", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "A LEAF.\\nMaught but a leaf that hangs up high,\\nYou pluck me but I do not cry.\\nAnd do you ask what use am I?\\nWer t not for me you d quickly die.\\nI hold right tightly to the trees,\\nI wave about in ev ry breeze,\\nAnd with ten thousand mouths so fair\\nI gather food from out the air.\\nIn me the wondrous power is rife\\nTo lift the dead up into life\\nGod kisses me with his sunshine,\\nAnd then the living power is mine.\\nMy living power to raise the dead\\nFlows from God s fountains overhead.\\nWithout my power you d ne er be fed,\\nWithout my help all things were dead.\\nI work for thee with all my might,\\nAnd yet I somewhat rest by night;\\nBy day God sendeth me the light\\nBy which I do my work aright.\\nGod useth me to do his will\\nMe doth he with his Spirit fill,\\nElse how could I thus raise the dead,\\nIf by his Spirit I were not fed?\\nSee God in me, he worketh there,\\nHis Spirit shines with light so rare;\\nIt giveth life to all that lives,\\nSo let all give to Him who gives.\\n70", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "THE HEN AND HEE EGG.\\nT Tens lay eggs, and eggs hatch chickens;\\nBut who in the name of the dickens\\nKen tell ef in the nat ral order of things\\nThe egg was made first, or the hen with her\\nwings?\\nEf the hen was here first, it s all very well,\\nFur in that case it s easy to tell\\nThat she might take a notion to prepare her an\\negg,\\nIn which case, ef she did, I respectfully beg\\nSome wise man to tell me this very morn\\nHow she ever did learn the work to perform.\\nBut and ef the egg it was first on the airth,\\nFrom what did the egg at that time have its birth?\\nThis egg from the hen, and this hen from the egg,\\nIt s all very true, moves us back quite a peg;\\nBut when we ve gone back as fur as we ken,\\nThe same question rises up about the first hen.\\nTis true the first hen might hev come from the\\nmoon,\\nFur she has two good wings with which to hev\\nflewn;\\nBut ef the hen s egg from the moon had hev fell,\\nIt s plain to my mind twould hev busted its\\nshell.\\nEf one of the two we e er must believe,\\nThe flight of the hen twould be best to receive;\\n71", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "(2 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nHowsoe er in creation this thing might hev been,\\nThar s one thing that don t seem so easy and\\nplain.\\nThe one little thing I wish you d explain\\nHow the hen from the egg could ever hev came;\\nThe egg on the inside don t look like a chicken,\\nThar s nawthen in thar you ken even see kicken.\\nEf you bust up the egg to see the chicken jump\\nout,\\nThe yaller and white go a splashen about;\\nThar s nawthen in thar you ever ken see\\nThat shows you just how a chicken ken be.\\nBut when the old hen has done her best work,\\nAnd set on that egg through sunshine and dark,\\nThe yaller and white git to f ussen away,\\nAnd out jumps a fine chicken some bright sunny\\nday.\\nA chicken has a mouth and two ears and two eyes,\\nAnd it has two wings with which it soon flies;\\nIt has a good gizzard and stumick and feathers,\\nWhich keep it right warm in all kinds of\\nweathers.\\nIt has also a heart and liver and light,\\nAnd two legs fur to run with all of its might\\nWhile the egg it has nawthen but yaller and\\nwhite\\nAnd this puts my story in a very sad plight.\\nAnd then, sir, this chicken, she feels and she\\nmoves,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "THE HEN AND HER EGG. 73\\nAnd, after her fashion, she thinks and she loves;\\nShe goes roamin around fulfillen her mission,\\nAnd thus helps to make up the sum of creation.\\nBut yet to my mind it is not very clear,\\nHow frum yaller and white the young bird ken\\nappear;\\nWhy the two all alone worken thar in the dark\\nDon t fail in their aim and thus miss the mark.\\nEf it warn t fur the wise men uv this latter day,\\nI d surely be almost tempted to say,\\nThat in maken this chicken with its parts and its\\npowers,\\nRequiren work of great cunnin through very\\nmany hours,\\nThe good Lord had tuck a hand worken thar in\\nthe dark,\\nAnd had lit up the egg with a luminous spark\\nThat caused it to move with wisdom divine\\nAnd fashioned its body, its heart and its mind.\\nBut now, as I tell you, I don t say this is true,\\nFur- wise men hev told me that this will not do;\\nThey say that the Lord has late suffered defeat,\\nAnd that they hev sure driv him to take a back\\nseat.\\nThis bein then true, I must them respeck,\\nWhich leaves me in trouble more than a peck;\\nIn order, tharfore, to get rid of confusion,\\nI hasten straight back to my former conclusion.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "74 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nWhen the hen, exercisen, too high she had flewn,\\nTo the airth she came sailen right down from the\\nmoon.\\nIn thus deciden, my own wisdom I ve shewn,\\nFur I ve throw d the trouble back to the man in\\nthe moon.\\nSAILING.\\nT see thy ship fast sailing\\nOn the sunny sea of life.\\nFrom what port art thou hailing?\\nArt thou bound to port of life?\\nTo what port art thou sailing,\\nO thou man of happy life?\\nAre the eastern winds prevailing\\nThat will waft to port of life?\\nHas thy voyage e er been westward,\\nTowards the land of the setting sun,\\nTowards the gate that opens heavenward,\\nWhen earth s voyage shall be done?\\nHas the sea been smooth and sunny?\\nHave thy sails kind breezes caught?\\nThou shalt meet upon thy journey\\nBreezes yet with whirlwinds fraught.\\nKeep thine eye upon the weather,\\nKeep thy hand upon the helm,\\nTie thy heart firm by its tether,\\nTo the God who rules the realm.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "SAILING.\\n75\\nClouds will rise, the sun will darken,\\nWinds will rage and lightnings flash,\\nBut in this thou e er must hearken\\nUnto Him who guides its crash.\\nSail thy ship, sail fast and stately,\\nKeep her gallant sails unfurled\\nGuide thy ship, yes, guide her straightly,\\nWhen the storms around are hurled.\\nWhen the clouds are blackest round thee,\\nWhen the winds the fiercest blow,\\nWhen the waves would sure engulf thee,\\nAnd would send thy bark below,\\nThen look quickly round about thee,\\nLet thine eye the darkness scan\\nThou shalt see stretched out beyond thee,\\nThe Almighty s reaching hand.\\nThou shalt see through darkness piercing,\\nLight that comes from heaven s light-house.\\nTended by the angel watchmen\\nWho keep vigil in the light-house\\nThen if thou wilt meekly listen,\\nPress thine ear close to thy soul,\\nThou wilt hear a voice that whispers,\\nIt shall harmless o er thee roll.\\nLet thy faith be strong and steadfast,\\nLet thy love in ardor glow\\nLet thy hope grow ever brighter,\\nAs thou sail st the darkness through.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "76 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThou shalt see the port beyond thee,\\nThou shalt hear the watchmen call,\\nThou shalt see the lights all gleaming\\nOn the top of heaven s wall.\\nThou shalt hear angelic footsteps,\\nAs like snow they softly fall,\\nThou shalt hear the angels whisper,\\nAs in whispers faint they call.\\nThen thou lt hear the Master saying,\\nOpen wide the pearly gate,\\nThere s a soul that s just now landing,\\nLet him in to his estate.\\nGOD S GREATNESS.\\nT^here s naught of space too much for Thee,\\nFor Thou dost fill infinity\\nAnd time is not too long for Thee,\\nThou dwellest in eternity.\\nFrom age to age Thou movest on;\\nThou makest worlds to rise and fall,\\nAnd yet Thy work is never done,\\nFor Thou dost rule forever all.\\nThou dost outrun the rays of sun,\\nThy wings are swifter than the light\\nWhen they begin Thy journey s done,\\nSo swift art Thou in Thy great might.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "god s greatness. 77\\nAll things that are have flown from Thee,\\nThou madest all by Thy decree\\nAll life hath flown from out Thy sea,\\nAnd all returneth unto Thee.\\nThy lights all shine forever bright,\\nTo Thee there cometh never night,\\nFor all doth glow beneath Thy light,\\nAnd all is open to Thy sight.\\nThou holdest all the worlds afar,\\nWithin Thy grasp is every star;\\nEach one is chained to Thine own car,\\nAnd Thou dost move it by Thy power.\\nThou drivest on through endless space,\\nThy chariot moves at swiftest pace\\nThy coursers run the endless race\\nWhile Thou dost guide them by Thy grace.\\nThy power doth flow in circuits wide,\\nSo naught that is can from it hide\\nIt filleth all as Thou dost guide,\\nFor naught without it could abide.\\nThou God of all immensity,\\nThou God of all intensity,\\nHow can the feeble spark we have\\nGive aught to Thee who to us gave?\\nIf my poor lamp shall dimly glow,\\nAs on eternal ages flow,\\nYet how can this be aught to Thee,\\nThou God of all immensity?", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "78 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nNo atom can escape from Thee,\\nThou dost each atom ever see;\\nThou madest each by Thy decree,\\nAnd by its work it praiseth Thee.\\nIf one should fail to do its work\\nThe universe might miss its mark,\\nFor who but God can surely tell\\nIf one refuse that all might fail?\\nAll things of atoms small are made,\\nOf every kind and every grade\\nGod careth for the atoms first\\nOf which He made the universe.\\nMy light may shine as atom dim,\\nBut in its glow it praiseth Him;\\nHowever small my light may be,\\nIt shineth back in God s great sea.\\nTHE HONEY-BEE.\\nA mong all things on earth below\\nThe wisdom of the bee doth glow;\\nShe fills her stomach with rich foods,\\nAnd from her sides the wax exudes.\\nOf wax she builds her house with skill\\nWith feet for trowels she makes her cells,\\nEach cell a building most complete,\\nIn which to store her roval sweet.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "THE HONEY-BEE. 79\\nSome cells for eggs of drones she wills,\\nSome cells with pollen rich she fills,\\nAnd then she buildeth worker cells,\\nAnd royal house where young queen dwells.\\nEach cell is built with such wise skill,\\nIts purpose it doth well fulfill;\\nIn cell of drone and working bee,\\nIn cell of queen that is to be,\\nThe queen doth lay, led by her mind,\\nThe proper egg to hatch each kind.\\nO wondrous queen, how dost thou know\\nThe kind of egg for each to grow?\\nHow canst thou with thy small mind tell\\nThat worker egg s for worker s cell?\\nThat eggs which hatch out lazy drones\\nMust e er be placed in larger homes?\\nCome see a marvel of God s ways\\nAs worker bee fulfills her days\\nWith skill that cometh from the skies\\nHer many-mansioned house doth rise.\\nShe maketh bee-bread for her young,\\nShe sees that useless drones are stung;\\nShe placeth in the royal cell\\nWhich she hath built both large and well,\\nAn egg that is a queen to be,\\nAnd then with wisdom she doth see\\nThat larva, royal food is fed,\\nThat it may up to queen be led.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "80 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThou tendest all thy young with care,\\nThy queens are fed till they are fair;\\nThy wings do bear thee far away,\\nAnd thou dost work through all the day.\\nHowever far thou e er dost roam,\\nWith thy keen eyes thou seest thy home,\\nAnd rising far into the sky,\\nThou dost with ease straight homeward fly.\\nSmall baskets in thy thighs are hung,\\nIn which thou gatherest food for young;\\nWoe be to him who d rob thy cell,\\nFor with thy sting thou guard st it well.\\nAnd when thy number is too great,\\nThou searchest out a new estate,\\nAnd leadest forth from out thy hive,\\nA number large, that all may live.\\nThou risest early in the morn\\nAnd seek st the hearts of flowers new-born;\\nAnd there sweet nectar thou dost find,\\nPoured from their hearts to suit thy mind.\\nWith nectar thou thy pouch dost fill,\\nAnd from it honey soon distill,\\nWhich thou dost place in each small cell,\\nAnd then dost seal with magic skill.\\nWith buzzing wing and busy feet,\\nThou fillest well thy home with sweet;\\nBoth late at eve and early morn,\\nThou storest sweet for bees unborn.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "THE HONEY-BEE. 81\\nIn thy great zeal through many a day,\\nThy wings at last are worn away,\\nThy life s all spent in storing sweet,\\nThat other bees may have to eat.\\nO man, stand up in God s great light,\\nAnd from the bee read lessons right.\\nUntaught the bee knows more of worth\\nThan half of all the kings of earth.\\nHer skill is great beyond compare,\\nHer wisdom is of kind most rare;\\nHer industry none can excel,\\nHer foresight is too great to tell.\\nMuch care is for the tender young,\\nWho ll need her wealth when she is gone.\\nShe loves her queen and guards her well,\\nAnd for queen s good her life will sell.\\nThe greatest care of her wise mind\\nIs gathering sweet to leave behind.\\nIn looking o er the stores of earth\\nShe counts the bitter of no worth.\\nThe bee doth ever use her tongue\\nTo gather sweet from flowers among,\\nAnd thus to thee s a lesson meet,\\nTo make thy tongue at all times sweet.\\nO man, if thou wouldst fill thy place,\\nUse all thy power for God s great race;\\nStore up earth s good rich sweets in barn,\\nAnd give for those who are not born.\\n(6)", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "82 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nGod s prophets speak for age that comes,\\nGod s heroes fight that future homes\\nMay be more firm in all the land,\\nThat the great race may higher stand.\\nO man, bowed down in earthly dust,\\nLift up thy head and in God trust,\\nThat He thy powers will use most wise\\nTo build thy mansions to the skies.\\nTHE OLD MAN.\\nA n aged man went stooping low,\\nHe leaned upon his cane;\\nHis flowing hair was white as snow,\\nAnd feeble was his frame.\\nHis eyes were cast upon the ground,\\nAs if a grave he sought;\\nHis voice was feeble, and its sound\\nCould scarce convey his thought.\\nWhence comest thou, my ancient friend,\\nArt thou not weary here?\\nDost thou not seek thy journey s end,\\nAnd hast thou aught of fear?\\nI came from out the ancient past;\\nMy journey is of old\\nAnd many with me journeyed fast\\nWho long since went to mold.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "THE OLD MAN.\\nMy path has been a winding way\\nO er many a rugged steep;\\nI ve climbed the mountains many a day,\\nAnd waded many a deep.\\nThis world I ve traveled widely o er,\\nIts kingdoms I have seen\\nMy feet have often pressed the shore\\nOf empires that have been.\\nThe rising sun of life with me\\nWas far back in the east;\\nBut now my setting sun I see\\nDescending in the west.\\nI see my childhood s gleeful days\\nEise clearly to my view\\nMy manhood s strong and rugged days\\nIn mind are ever new.\\nOld age has found me out at last,\\nHe presses hard his claims;\\nI know my journey s almost past.\\nBut I have other aims.\\nAnd now if unto you I say\\nWhat times and days are best,\\nIf I would choose the new-born day,\\nOr sunset in the west,\\nI d say to you, the rising sun\\nThrows sweet and gentle light;\\nAnd then the glowing noon-day sun\\nIs glorious in his might;\\n83", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "84 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nBut unto me the setting sun,\\nDescending in the west,\\nAt close of day, his journey run,\\nTo me this speaks of rest.\\nThe glories of the evening sky,\\nIts tints of every hue\\nAre flashed with light from heaven on high\\nWhich shines the gateways through.\\nThe pilgrim who has journeyed far\\nKnows well his need of rest;\\nAnd so I ll view the evening star\\nAnd step into the west.\\nTHE KING S DECEEE.\\nA ll kings of earth met and decreed\\nThat stalking death should no more feed\\nUpon the subjects whom they ruled\\nOf human flesh he d had his meed.\\nSo each his kingdom did surround\\nWith walls whose height scarce knew a bound.\\nNo crack was left for death to creep,\\nNo ray of light could through it peep.\\nAnd close inside the wall they placed\\nA wall of soldiers who all faced\\nThe mighty wall that pierced the clouds,\\nAnd then they said, we ll need no shrouds.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "the king s decree. 85\\nThey met again in jubilee,\\nFor they rejoiced their work to see;\\nLoud shouts of vict ry rent the air,\\nWhich echoed back from ev ry star.\\nAnd then their subjects they informed\\nThat they by death should not be harmed;\\nThe kings lay down and went to sleep\\nWhen they awoke they heard men weep.\\nIn wild dismay they looked around,\\nDeath had crept up from out the ground,\\nWhile kings and subjects slept in peace,\\nDeath s appetite knew no surcease.\\nDeath in his march knows no defeat,\\nHe conquers both the small and great,\\nAt last his dread and unseen hand\\nWill conquer all in ev ry land.\\nBut the Great King will come at last,\\nWho will decree that death shall fast,\\nWhom death has conquered shall yet live,\\nEternal life they yet shall have.\\nDeath s sting from out their heart He ll draw;\\nHe ll bring their bodies from death s maw;\\nAnd then in vict ry wild they ll sing,\\nThou cold, black death, where is thy sting?", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "TO THE LATTER-DAY SAGE.\\nT hey say that our bodies of atoms are made;\\nBut pray what are atoms, and how were\\nthey made?\\nAn atom s a thing which no one has seen,\\nYet atoms are things that a long time have been.\\nThe microscope fails in its efforts to see\\nThings so little and small as atoms may be;\\nAnd yet all around us atoms are found\\nIn the earth and the air they always abound.\\nThe sun and the planets of atoms are made,\\nAnd likewise the flowers and all things that fade;\\nThe beasts of the field and the birds of the air,\\nThe things that are ugly and things that are fair.\\nYet no one an atom has tasted or seen,\\nNor yet has he felt an atom that s been;\\nEv ry sense known to man each atom eludes,\\nEv ry power of his mind it also deludes.\\nAtoms of many different kinds there be,\\nAnd so they very often marry, you see.\\nHydrogen and oxygen, two gases, draw near,\\nAnd by their close union form water that s clear.\\nEach smallest piece of water a molecule is,\\nAnd molecules added are all water that is;\\nA molecule no one has ever yet seen,\\nAnd yet they certainly for ages have been.\\n86", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "THE LATTER-DAY SAGE. 87\\nThe rocks and the mountains, the water and earth,\\nAnd all living things to which time has given\\nbirth,\\nAre made of molecules so little and small\\nThat no mortal eye has seen one at all.\\nOur bodies are mostly of four elements made,\\nC. and H., O. and N. form most tissues it s said;\\nThe muscles and brain, the liver and lungs,\\nThe gristle, and membranes, and even our\\ntongues.\\nTo form our bones some calcium s thrown in\\nTo harden the gristle that s made of C, H., O.\\nand N.j\\nAlso phosphorus, that s used to make lucifer\\nmatches,\\nIs put in our bones in very small batches.\\nIf to these six things a pinch of iron be added,\\nAnd then, in between, a speck of sulphur be\\npadded,\\nThen a whiff of chlorine, and of sodium a jot,\\nAnd then of potassium the least little dot,\\nThese are the main things of which our bodies\\nare made;\\nBut, just please remember, as before I have said,\\nThat C, H., O. and N. are the main building-\\nstones,\\nWhile calcium and phosphorus help make up the\\nbones.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "SO MY GOOD POEMS.\\nOf these building-stones that make up the frame,\\nThe O., H. and N. are known as gases by name,\\nWhile C. is the diamond that sparkles so bright,\\nCa., a metal, and phosphorus, a wax, that strikes\\nlight.\\nThese stones are joined in such wonderful ways\\nAs to make up the body, which works many days;\\nWhich body at last, through time s many delays,\\nTumbles to pieces, when, at last, it decays.\\nOur bodies are made of the herbs of the field,\\nWhile earth, water and air the herbs ever do\\nyield;\\nThat rocks, water and air are completely dead\\nEvery man will grant who thinks in his head.\\nBut herbs are alive, there s no doubt of that,\\nAnd so is your dog, as well as your cat;\\nAnd then you re alive as much as your cat,\\nAnd you have a soul that sits under your hat.\\nIf a man is all molecules made out of dirt,\\nWhy count him of more worth than a thrown-\\naway shirt?\\nCan molecules of air, of water and dirt,\\nPut themselves together to make a new shirt?\\nIf by uniting and dancing a shirt they can t\\nmake,\\nHow can they by prancing a man s body make?\\nA man s body is harder to make than his shirt,\\nWhen it comes to weaving it out of the dirt.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "THE LATTER-DAY SAGE. 89\\nBut what of the soul that sits within,\\nThat thinks, and loves, and trembles at sin;\\nThat guides the body in all of its ways,\\nAnd helps it in wisdom to fill up its days?\\nIf a shirt and a body molecules can t make,\\nWould they in their folly ever undertake\\nThe soul of a man to fashion and form,\\nOr the heart of a woman, that ever beats warm?\\nOh, ye sages of this scientific age,\\nCome sing us a song of the latter-day sage.\\nIf atoms your gods you ve determined to make,\\nThen in your fine wisdom make them awake.\\nShow how from the air, the water and earth,\\nThe shirt and the body could have once had\\ntheir birth\\nHow atoms and molecules dancing together,\\nCould have made a man s soul in any kind of\\nweather.\\nThere was an old-fashioned belief when I was a\\nboy,\\nThat dwelt in the heart and filled it with joy,\\nThat behind these dead things was One Great\\nLife,\\nThat in and through things His Spirit ran rife,\\nThat out of His mouth came the words of life,\\nSo that things which were dead quick sprang\\ninto life.\\nThis was the old-fashioned belief in old-fash-\\nioned days,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "90 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAmong old-fashioned people of old-fashioned\\nways.\\nIn preparing the earth, for sure it was made,\\nWho put in the stuff just such as twould need,\\nAnd left nothing out from the earth or the air,\\nThat must be used, living things to prepare?\\nIf a necessary element had been left out,\\nIf too much or too little had been scattered\\nabout,\\nThen no living thing could have had its birth,\\nEven if living things could be born from the\\nearth.\\nIf atoms and molecules can dance and make\\nman,\\nWho gave them the power to combine as they\\ncan?\\nWho also made them of such numbers and kinds\\nThat no failure was made in shaping our minds?\\nThere is but One Power that ruleth over all,\\nHe lifteth the mountains and seeth the sparrow\\nfall;\\nHe guideth the stars in their courses by night,\\nAnd guideth the bird in its long weary flight.\\nHe watcheth each world as it circles through\\nspace,\\nHe watcheth each atom and puts it in place,\\nHe maketh His temples the heavens above,\\nHe maketh our bodies His temples of love.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "A THOUSAND MILLION HUMAN SOULS. 91\\nHe buildeth the sun that scattereth night,\\nHe buildeth the diamond thatflasheth His light,\\nHe dwelleth in atom, in sun, and in star,\\nHe dwelleth in hearts whose love shines afar.\\nHis Power is in all, and through all it doth work,\\nAnd all are in Him and by Him they do work;\\nWhen atoms and worlds their mission perform,\\nAll is done by the One Omnipotent Arm.\\nA THOUSAND MILLION HUMAN SOULS.\\nA thousand million weary souls\\nLay down their burdens at the close of day,\\nAnd shut their heavy eyes in friendly sleep,\\nOblivious to self and man and God.\\nGod s eyes look down upon the slumbering hosts.\\nA thousand million anxious human souls\\nRise up each morn and bind upon their backs\\nLife s heavy burdens, and plod with weary feet\\nThe devious paths traced by the Almighty s\\nhand,\\nTrod by the slumbering generations past.\\nA thousand million anxious human souls\\nOpen wide each morn their eyes in God s great\\nsea\\nOf light, which He has made for searching eyes\\nThat scan the universe to see and know\\nThat He is God of light and all that is.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "92 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nA thousand million anxious human souls\\nAre born each morn from mute unconscious\\nsleep\\nInto the world of conscious, throbbing life\\nTheir doors wide open thrown that through\\nthem flow\\nThe powers of life and light that flood the\\nworld.\\nA thousand million hungry human souls\\nFeast at God s tables every new-born day,\\nQuench well their thirst with water from His\\nsprings,\\nAnd breathe the air from His life-giving ocean,\\nSo that their failing strength is oft renewed.\\nA thousand million praying human souls,\\nPressed by their poverty and sense of need,\\nIn tongues unknown save only unto God,\\nThrough speechless lips or idols dumb and dead,\\nCry with their hearts to Thee, O God, for help.\\nA thousand million pilgrim human souls,\\nMade in Thine image, drifting darkly on,\\nWith hearts that throb with ceaseless, countless\\npulse,\\nNot knowing where they go nor asking why,\\nAre in Thy hands, Thou Keeper of the stars.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "POLITICS IS HELL.\\nPhere s something in the air as the wheels roll\\nround,\\nOn which the great body of things is found,\\nThat things get mixed up and confused in the\\nmind,\\nSo our eyes don t see in ways the right kind.\\nAh, sir, things are badly mixed in the air,\\nAnd the more we keep looking with a great big\\nstare,\\nThe more the air grows murky and dim,\\nAnd our eyes get on them a very thick film.\\nThe political air gets full of black smoke,\\nDue to a blowing off of political talk,\\nSo that the common people can t see where to\\nwalk,\\nAnd they stand round in the smoke and just talk.\\nBut God s wind comes along and blows the\\nsmoke away,\\nAnd, politics gone, we have a bright day,\\nTill next time our country we must surely save,\\nThen more spouting and smoke and suffocation\\nwe have.\\nO sir, to my simple mind it seems quite grave,\\nTo turn loose the devil our country for to save.\\nBut once in a while he must for a spell\\nBe let loose just to show he s alive and well.\\n93", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "94 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThe politicians specially keep him a going\\nFor he is so grand at puffing and blowing\\nSmoke in the air, so it saves their wind,\\nAnd for this very reason they treat him mighty\\nkind.\\nOnce said a great judge, Politics is hell;\\nHe spoke what he knew truly and well.\\nI knew the same judge, he the truth did tell,\\nFor often he had seen it moving as hell.\\nO sir, is there not some kind of a machine\\nBy which the political air can be swept clean?\\nMust the nation s best blood be poisoned to\\ndeath\\nBy breathing black air at every drawn breath?\\nCan bribing, and stealing, and lying, and repeat-\\ning,\\nMiscounting, and stuffing, suppressing, and im-\\nporting,\\nAnd all other tricks known to political art\\nEver build for the nation a good honest heart?\\nIf men must be knaves, good men to elect,\\nThen how can we know which knaves to select?\\nIf all must be knaves for things to go well,\\nThen, as above stated, Politics is hell.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "THE MIGRATING RAIL.\\nThou handsome, timid rail,\\nThy power of wing did fail,\\nBy long and weary flight\\nIn darkness of the night.\\nRest here in peace to-day,\\nTo-morrow fly away\\nThy strength will be renewed\\nBy rest and by good food.\\nThou wearest thy new gown,\\nMade neat, of chestnut brown;\\nThou tremblest at my sight,\\nAnd wouldst renew thy flight.\\nAbide awhile in peace,\\nThy trembling fear release;\\nO why doth war not cease\\nBy man against thy peace?\\nWhat spirit moved thy heart\\nThat thou, in hope, didst start\\nFrom swamp and brake in south\\nTo bog and fen in north?\\nThe spirit of the spring\\nInto thy heart did sing,\\nAnd put thee on thy wing\\nTo chase the flight of spring.\\n95", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "96 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nTo spring the birds are dear,\\nTheir songs she needs to hear;\\nShe calleth them in north\\nFrom sunny home in south.\\nTheir songs her heart do cheer,\\nThe} 7 chase away all fear\\nInspire with new-born hope\\nThe buds of spring that ope.\\nI toss thee in the air,\\nAnd break thy mute despair;\\nMay thy swift wings soon bear\\nThee to thy haven fair.\\nMay voice within thee guide\\nTo where thou wouldst abide,\\nAnd spirit of the spring\\nInspire each stroke of wing.\\nTHE WHIPPOORWILL.\\nTn shadiest nook and silent dell,\\nThe whippoorwill delights to dwell.\\nFrom haunts of busy men away,\\nIn silence he doth spend the day.\\nClothed in his dark and modest dress,\\nHe lowly sits in mute distress.\\nAvoiding ev ry coming sound,\\nHe nestles closely to the ground.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "THE WHIPPOORWILL. 97\\nThis silent hermit of the wood\\nScarce moves about to get his food.\\nHis heart with fear is weighted down,\\nHe thinks the world is all a frown\\nWhen darkness wraps the world in night,\\nOn noiseless wings he makes his flight;\\nAnd then from perch, in voice most shrill,\\nHe rends the air with whippoorwill.\\nFar through the silent night it speeds,\\nArousing thoughts of darkest deeds;\\nOf dread oppression s fearful power,\\nWhen o er the feeble it doth tower.\\nAgain from out his icy heart,\\nAs if the woes of life to start,\\nAs if the human mind to thrill,\\nHe chills the air with whippoorwill.\\nSoon in dismay at his own voice,\\nHe seeks the distant woods by choice,\\nAnd there in quiet settles down\\nTo live in nature s darkest frown.\\nThou bird of darkness and of night,\\nForget thy ways and seek the light.\\nJudge not this world to be a tomb,\\nBecause thy heart is full of gloom.\\nPush out among the birds of day,\\nWith them awhile go romp and play;\\nTune up thy heart with song of mirth,\\nAnd then thou wilt enjoy the earth.\\n(7)", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "98 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nToo much thou art enwrapt in self.\\nThou canst not see the boundless wealth\\nWhich fills to fullness all this earth,\\nUnless thou know st a higher birth.\\nTHE LOST PUP.\\nT ve lost my pup, have you seen him?\\nHe s run away, boo-hoo, boo-hoo;\\nHis body s sorter long and slim,\\nMaybe he s stole, boo-hoo, boo-hoo.\\nHis tail just stuck out straight behind,\\nHave you seen him? boo-hoo, boo-hoo;\\nHe was a brin le pup and kind,\\nHad lots o sense, hoo-hoo, boo-hoo.\\nHe jist ketched all the neighbors chickens^\\nAnd frolicked round, boo-hoo, boo-hoo;\\nAnd cut up capers like the dickens,\\nSay, where is he? boo-hoo, boo-hoo.\\nI wouldn t lose that pup for money,\\nHe went that way? boo-hoo, boo-hoo.\\nIf I don t ketch him it ll be funny,\\nGoin fast you say? boo-hoo, boo-hoo.\\nI reckon he knows where he s goin\\nGee-whiz, that pup, boo-hoo.\\nGee-whiz, I say, there is no knowin\\nWhat he will do, boo-hoo, boo-hoo.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "MIGRATION OF THE FUE SEAL. 99\\nYes, there he goes jist round the corner;\\nI ll ketch him quick, boo-hoo, boo-hoo.\\nAnd he s jist runnin like all thunder,\\nHe s got no sense, boo-hoo, boo-hoo.\\nCome here, you fool, and stop your runnin\\nI ll try a stone, boo-hoo, boo-hoo.\\nI see him now a sorter shunnin\\nCome here, you fool, boo-hoo, boo-hoo.\\nI ll put this string right on your neck,\\nGo home blam d quick, Gehaw, gehaw.\\nFor money, no not for a peck\\nWould I sell him, Gehaw, gehaw.\\nMIGRATION OF THE FUR SEAL.\\nT\\nwo thousand uiiles away from home,\\nYet thou wilt through the ocean roam,\\nLed on by knowledge of the deep\\nWhich has been given thee to keep.\\nThy fathers from the days of old\\nHave plied the waters, swimming bold,\\nFar through the ocean s trackless waste\\nTo reach their home, a place of rest.\\nThou art a mariner of skill,\\nWith naught of compass thou dost sail\\nSubmerged beneath the waters waste\\nThou dost with knowledge homeward haste.\\nLofC.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "100 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nSuch knowledge is too great for me\\nAn inward light sure guideth thee,\\nThat homeward thou dost ply thy way\\nThrough trackless waters many a day.\\nThy home is on the rocky isles,\\nAnd yet thou swim st two thousand miles\\nTo reach the home where thou canst rear\\nThy new-born young with naught of fear.\\nThy love of freedom s born in thee,\\nFor thou dost ply the boundless sea,\\nUncurbed by naught except thy will\\nAnd love of home which does thee fill.\\nIn order that thou mightst be free\\nThou soughtst the islands of the sea,\\nA place that was of little worth\\nFar up within the icy north.\\nWhere er thou goest in the sea,\\nThy rocky home still draweth thee\\nWith cords that reach out through the sea,\\nThy home is ever bound to thee.\\nAlthough thou knowest fairer lands,\\nThy longing heart forever stands\\nAmid the islands of the north,\\nAnd counts all else of little worth.\\nIf to the rocks thy heart is bound,\\nWhere should the heart of man be found?\\nWhile he is floating on life s sea\\nHis home is in eternity.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "RUM. 101\\nHis heartstrings reach beyond life s sea,\\nThey re anchored in eternity.\\nWhere er upon the earth he roam\\nThey draw him to the eternal home.\\nAs onward man his journey goes,\\nThe light within more brightly glows,\\nUntil, at last, time s sea sailed o er,\\nHe lands upon the eternal shore.\\nEUM.\\nY\\\\ That multitude is this I see\\nIn want and rags and penury?\\nA multitude so sad and great,\\nWhat power on earth could this create?\\nThis is the army rum has made,\\nThe debt due rum in part they ve paid.\\nFor sake of man we d shun the sight\\nHe careth not for human right.\\nNo Waterloo brought such defeat,\\nNo Gettysburg could this create.\\nTwas man s dull sense and selfish greed\\nThat has produced these rags and need.\\nSee now this mighty suffering host,\\nWhich has been in deep misery tossed.\\nIn front of all lie rum s great slaves,\\nWho fast are falling in their graves.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "102 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThere lie the husbands, fathers, sons,\\nWhom all except rum-seller shuns.\\nHe holds out rum-glass in his hand\\nTo those who know not how to stand.\\nHere stand the mothers in their tears\\nWith hearts bowed down with deadly fears,\\nAnd hungry children cry for bread,\\nWhile scarcely crusts to them are fed.\\nHere lie the wrecks that rum has made,\\nStrong men lie prostrate, worse than dead;\\nGreat souls within its grasp are held,\\nThe strongest by its power are felled.\\nIf rum s indictment were prepared,\\nIt would be writ with ink of blood,\\nMixed up with countless bitter tears\\nBy children shed through many years.\\nWhat human words could then suffice\\nTo paint the widow s helpless cries;\\nHer children robbed of their support\\nBy men of cruel, callous heart.\\nDisease and death in every form,\\nTo human life all kinds of harm;\\nLying, theft and robbery,\\nMurder, incest, cruelty,\\nPoverty, rags, insanity,\\nPrisons, courts, adultery;\\nFeeble bodies, broken hearts,\\nWretched wrecks in all their parts,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "RUM. 103\\nSouls that cry in dark distress,\\nPitched in gulf of wretchedness;\\nHelpless in their hopeless grief,\\nMisery beyond belief.\\nRum feedeth all the flames of hell,\\nIt serveth hell s great purpose well;\\nIt doth all evil passions fan,\\nIt burneth all that s good in man.\\nNo love it hath not oft destroyed,\\nAll innocence it hath decoyed;\\nThe brightest hopes hath dashed to ground,\\nAll noblest sentiments hath drowned.\\nThou devil strong, let loose from hell,\\nWhich on the human race hath fell\\nDestruction and dark ruin brought,\\nWhy dost thou come to earth unsought?\\nIs there no power to drive thee back?\\nMust man e er suffer on thy rack?\\nMust desolation curse the land\\nBecause of thy strong, cruel hand?\\nO God, we pray Thee, shed Thy light\\nArouse Thy people in their might,\\nThat they may banish from the earth\\nThis curse that gives all evil birth.\\nHow dare we in a Christian land\\nApproach and in Thy presence stand\\nWhile we protect beneath our wing\\nThis vile and cruel, cursed thing?", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "104 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nWe press the serpent to our breast,\\nAnd pray that we may then be blest;\\nWe kill our fellowmen for gain\\nAnd then praise God above the slain.\\nO God, arise in Thy great might,\\nAnd help this cruel giant smite,\\nLest by his ever burning blight\\nWe be consumed from out Thy sight.\\nWhen he is banished from the land,\\nOn every mountain top will stand\\nThy people, singing praise to Thee,\\nRejoicing in Thy victory.\\nFrom every hill and vale shall rise\\nThine altars looking to the skies,\\nOn which will burn great sacrifice,\\nWhich will be gracious to Thine eyes~\\nWhat mighty shouts will rend the air\\nFrom those who sit in dark despair;\\nReleased from the destroyer s power\\nTheir tears of gratitude they ll pour.\\nSuch songs of triumph ne er were heard,\\nAs unto Thee will then be poured,\\nWhile echoing back from heaven again\\nComes Peace on earth, good will to men.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "THE MAN IN THE MOON.\\nV/ ou wise old man in the moon,\\nYou re sometimes late and sometimes soon\\nYou always feel well in yourself,\\nFor you have on your broadest laugh.\\nYou are the oldest of all men,\\nNo oue your age can ever ken,\\nAnd yet you always smile up there\\nAnd seem to be quite free from care.\\nIf you would speak you could tell more\\nThan even wisest sophomore;\\nYou ve circled round this earth for ages,\\nHave seen all history make its pages.\\nYou saw the earth wrapped up in flame,\\nBeheld all water seething steam\\nSaw steam condense and water fall\\nTill ocean swept deep over all.\\nWhen earth was all a watery waste,\\nWhen darkness all things overcast,\\nYou saw the winds fierce warfare wage,\\nAnd heard the storms in chaos rage.\\nYou smiled through rolling ages long,\\nWhile death on earth sang her dull song;\\nWhen sharpest sight of mortal ken\\nCould not have dreamed of living men.\\n105", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "106 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nYou saw the Lord roll back the night,\\nAnd heard Him say, Let there be light,\\nAnd saw God s Spirit moving forth\\nAnd hovering over all the earth.\\nWheu living thing first had its birth,\\nYour eye was gazing on the earth;\\nYou ve seen each creature God has made\\nAs age on age has onward sped.\\nEach creeping thing and flying bird,\\nEach kind of beast in flock and herd,\\nAll that have roamed o er earthly plain,\\nOr swimming bold have plied the main,\\nHave passed beneath thy wondering gaze,\\nAs backward passed all new-born days.\\nWhen man rose up at God s command\\nAnd in his image forth did stand,\\nAnd took his place as ruling head\\nO er things on earth, alive and dead,\\nYou then rejoiced and laughed in glee\\nThis mighty work of God to see.\\nAs age on age has rolled along\\nYou ve seen the race, a moving throng,\\nPass through the shadows and the light,\\nThrough brightest day and darkest night.\\nYou ve seen the nations rise and fall,\\nSpring into life at God s own call,\\nThen pass away from mortal sight\\nInto the one dark, unknown night.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "THE MAN IN THE MOON. 107\\nAll tribes and tongues have come and gone\\nBeneath thy gaze, a mighty throng,\\nThe savage in his low estate,\\nThe wisest sage, the proud, the great,\\nThe poor and rich, the halt and lame,\\nEach with his burden slowly came,\\nAnd passed in the procession long\\nAmid the countless pressing throng.\\nWhat deeds of darkness hast thou seen\\nOf cruelty and mortal pain,\\nOf torture and of hellish deed,\\nWhat crimes on which the devils feed!\\nHearts crushed beneath the tyrant s heel,\\nDark bloody hands that loved to kill,\\nGreat savage monsters who have slain,\\nAnd yet their hearts have felt no pain.\\nBut still you smile with your broad grin\\nAs if you d laugh at human pain;\\nOf human woe would you make light,\\nOr do you laugh because tis right?\\nBehold thou seest day and night,\\nThe earth is dark and also light,\\nThou seest well ten thousand things\\nThat ever pull at thy heart-strings.\\nAlong with deeds of darkest night\\nThou seest many a beauteous sight;\\nGood deeds of mercy and of love\\nInspired in hearts by heaven above.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "108 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThou hast seen mother-heart beat warm\\nAnd shield her offspring from all harm.\\nWithout this love no life could stand,\\nAll life would fail in every land.\\nThrough weary day and sleepless night\\nGreat mother-love has fought the fight\\nAgainst disease and every foe\\nWhich would the human race o erthrow.\\nAnd so amid the blackest pall\\nGod let s His benediction fall,\\nLove shineth through the darkest night\\nAnd blesseth all with heavenly light.\\nO man in moon, tell what will be\\nThe end of all things which we see.\\nWhere flow the tides that sweep the earth?\\nWill mortal man have higher birth?\\nO human joy and human pain,\\nSo mingled in the life of man,\\nWe often wonder what all means,\\nBut heaven still the mystery screens.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "INFINITY.\\nT T ow powerless is the mind of man\\nThe boundless universe- to scan.\\nIt goeth forth on wings of thought\\nTo search if space doth end in naught.\\nAll weary in its mortal flight,\\nIt finds no bounds on which to light.\\nIt falls in weakness back to earth,\\nAnd then again it goeth forth\\nAnd wanders on from star to star\\nThrough trackless space, but finds no shore\\nOn which to rest its weary feet,\\nIt halteth then in sore defeat.\\nIt reacheth soon the farthest bound\\nWhere its weak power then walleth round\\nWith shoreless darkness all beyond\\nThe regions bright which it hath found.\\nThrough boundless regions it doth roam,\\nBut, like the dove, returneth home\\nFor shelter and for rest at last,\\nThrough endless space it hath not passed.\\nInfinity defeats the soul,\\nIt hath no power to reach the goal\\nWhich God hath placed beyond the sea\\nThat filleth all immensity.\\n109", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "110 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nWe re hedged around by God s own hand,\\nWe re now confined to narrow land.\\nThe universe beyond doth stand,\\nBut we must tread this mortal land.\\nO God, our souls cry out for Thee,\\nThey would search out infinity.\\nAnd thus we know they are from Thee,\\nFor Thou dost know infinity.\\nOur souls e er sit and groan in chains;\\nThey pant to know what yet remains\\nIn the vast fields of Thy domains,\\nWhere God Eternal lives and reigns.\\nGod meteth out the orb for sun,\\nAnd orb in which the soul may run.\\nEach one returneth to its place\\nAnd then anew begins its race.\\nThe veils hang thick before our eyes\\nThey are not thick viewed from the skies;\\nSome day the veils will quickly rise,\\nThen we shall see all through the skies.\\nGod trains our souls for larger place,\\nThey labor now in days of grace,\\nExpecting greater things to know\\nAs in their stature they shall grow.\\nWe fret within our mortal cage,\\nAwaiting great oncoming age\\nWe beat against the bars in vain,\\nWhich sadly do our souls restrain.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "INFINITY. Ill\\nWe seek to know Eternal God,\\nWe try to tread where He has trod;\\nFor Him our spirits ever yearn,\\nFor Him our hearts within us burn.\\nO God, what means this anxious self\\nThat seeketh Thy eternal wealth?\\nWhy burn the flames within the soul?\\nWhy seek we yet some other goal?\\nWe build our little houses here,\\nWe live in smoky atmosphere.\\nThe soul is laden sore with pelf,\\nThat shutteth out eternal wealth.\\nThe mountain peaks stand high beyond,\\nOn which the hopes of souls are found.\\nWe wander in the mists below,\\nThe upper lands we do not know.\\nOur wings grow weary in their flight,\\nWe settle down to rest in night.\\nWe never reach the mountain height\\nWhere shines undimmed the whitest light.\\nWe always look through mist and haze,\\nAnd thus we slowly drag our days.\\nOur souls oft mope in saddest plight,\\nWe often know not wrong from right.\\nO Lord, we have no strength to rise\\nAnd mount into the upper skies.\\nWe naught can do but stand below,\\nAnd wait the appointed time to go.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "112 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nWe hope some greater land to gain,\\nWe trust that hope may not be vain.\\nOur hope and faith and yearnings all,\\nAre but responses to Thy call.\\nWe hear the voice of God within,\\nIt pierceth through the earthly din,\\nIt cometh as the still small voice,\\nAnd speaketh things in words most choice.\\nAll things that are begin in God\\nHe plants the soul in earthly clod,\\nHe watches it with tender care,\\nAwaiting it rich fruit to bear.\\nThe soul doth seek to see His face,\\nIt striveth for a better place.\\nIt ever trusteth in God s grace,\\nAnd runs in hope its earthly race.\\nTHE SILK-WOEM.\\nThe silk-worm weaves from out himself,\\nFrom his accumulated wealth,\\nA house that shields him from the storm,\\nAnd through the winter keeps him warm.\\nThrough many a day he eateth food,\\nAnd storeth up for future good.\\nHe knows emergency will come,\\nWhen he shall need a good warm home.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "THE SILK-WORM. 113\\nHe sees that summer cannot last,\\nThat winter cometh on in haste\\nHe sees with true prophetic eye\\nWhat time will bring as it flows by.\\nHis life he spends for home at last,\\nAll else by him to winds is cast;\\nFrom earliest day of youth to age,\\nHe worketh as prophetic sage.\\nWith daintiest thread drawn out of self\\nHe weaves his house of silken wealth.\\nThe outward wall makes strong and firm,\\nWhile in between weaves soft and warm.\\nHe closes up himself within,\\nAnd leaves no door for wind or rain.\\nHe stretches out himself in sleep,\\nAnd waiteth winter s onward creep.\\nThe winter s past, the spring has come,\\nThe leaves have grown by glowing sun\\nThe silk-worm wakes from out his sleep,\\nAnd from his winter home doth creep.\\nBut see! he is no longer worm,\\nHe has abandoned his old form,\\nAnd now he soars on beauteous wing,\\nSwift through the air, a flying thing.\\nBehold, an angel while he slept\\nInto his silken house hath crept,\\nAnd shaped his substance with her hand,\\nThus making wings to fly o er land.\\n(8)", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "114 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThy labors here are not the end,\\nThey only show the forward trend.\\nThy works are all stored up in thee,\\nAnd speak of better self to be.\\nThe soul may build a future home\\nTo which at last it safe may come;\\nThe body slumbering in the dust\\nShall soar in life among the just.\\nTHE OLD GATE.\\nThat old front gate creaks on its hinges;.\\nIt swags at sides, as gates oft do,\\nIts creaking gives me oft the cringes\\nWhen wide I push it to go through.\\nThat gate is old, made long ago,\\nIt needs new paint, and all parts new;\\nHow old it is I do not know,\\nTwas old when first I passed it through.\\nI sometimes think its creaking sounds\\nAs if it tried aloud to speak;\\nAnd then again it just reminds\\nMe that it only wants to squeak.\\nWhat stories could that old gate tell\\nIf it had tongue to speak aloud,\\nIt knows a hundred things full well\\nThat time in mystery doth shroud.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "THE OLD GATE. 115\\nIts ears are crowded full of tales\\nThat in them fell full late at night,\\nBut for those times it hath no wails,\\nIts stories would be smack and bright.\\nIt stands as sacred parting wall\\nTwixt lad that s shy and lass that s coy,\\nWhile darkness hovered over all\\nNaught could their cooing bliss destroy.\\nIts swag hath come by honest means\\nFrom elbows pressing on its top,\\nWhen late at night they took new liens\\nBecause they knew not how to stop.\\nThe gate has done its duty well,\\nIt held up bravely under stress\\nIts secret tales it will not tell,\\nNor can you make it e er confess.\\nIf gates stand up in judgment day\\nAgainst belated lad and lass,\\nThey ll have some sweet, good things to say,\\nBut they will not exclaim alas", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "TOIL.\\nThy look on toil of human race\\nv As if it marked some deep disgrace?\\nWhat s muscle for if not to work?\\nIf muscle s bad, then make it cork.\\nOne hundred pounds of muscle strong\\nFixed firm to bones both flat and long,\\nWith fat for fuel placed in store,\\nBy brain and nerves presided o er\\nThis engine is for work indeed,\\nTo be e er run at good round speed.\\nGod s engines all should draw good loads\\nAnd do their work upon His roads.\\nIf muscle, then, is made for work,\\nWhy doth it from its duty shirk?\\nIf work by some one must be done,\\nWhy not just make your engine run?\\nIf work you do, let it be good,\\nJust earn your clothing and your food.\\nIs it great honor to sit down,\\nOr just go loafing round the town,\\nWhile others work that you may eat,\\nAnd you return as a dead-beat,\\nAnd by your conduct daily cheat\\nAnd thus secure your own defeat?\\n116", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "OCTOBER. 117\\nWhat for your mind if not to think?\\nMust life be only meat and drink?\\nIf so, then throw your mind away,\\nAnd with the beasts go spend your day.\\nIf mind s to think, then think good thought,\\nWaste not thy mind on things for naught,\\nHelp lift mankind to higher place\\nThat it may better run its race.\\nThy mind and muscle in the strife\\nCan save thyself and other life.\\nWhy let thy mind and body rust\\nWhile thou sit st groveling in the dust?\\nWhy stand st thou still while others fight?\\nGod calleth thee to use thy might,\\nThy powers are naught except for use,\\nWhy wilt thou then God s work refuse?\\nOCTOBER.\\n^The wondrous glory of the dying year\\n1 Is mantling wooded hill and jutting crag.\\nFar up the mountain side and deep within\\nThe gorge the clinging trees are richly robed\\nIn all the hues of autumn s gorgeous dyes.\\nThe oaks are crowding high the rugged steeps,\\nClothed in tints of scarlet, brown and green\\nWhile here and there upon the slopes, black\\ngums", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "118 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nBlaze bright and warm with glowing crimson\\nlight.\\nUpon the hills and scattered o er the plains\\nThe sugar-trees, decked in richest tints and\\nBrightest hues of scarlet, yellow, rose and green,\\nMake light of death and funeral robes, and\\nspeak\\nOf glory yet on earth to be revealed.\\nThe humble sumac glows with fervor on\\nForsaken ground where other growths have\\nfailed.\\nAlong the banks of yonder winding creek\\nThe sycamores, now shorn of summer s robes,\\nLift high their long and ghostly suppliant arms.\\nDeep down between its steep and dizzy banks\\nThrough winding gorge the silent river flows,\\nWhile smiling o er its brink on rock and crag,\\nWherever soil can rest, stand rooted, trees\\nOf smaller growth, their foliage set on fire\\nWith many-colored tints, by nipping frosts.\\nOctober s sun pours in his morning rays\\nUpon the quiet scene, and lights the mist\\nThat fills the gorge above the winding stream.\\nHis wondrous light is flashed by shrub and tree\\nFrom rocky steeps above the river s brink.\\nThe breezes scatter wide the ripened leaves\\nAnd blanket life in earth from winter s blasts.\\nThe many songsters of the woods have flown.\\nThe blackbirds, gathering for their southward\\nflight,\\nUnite in choirs immense at morn and eve", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "OLD BILL. 119\\nAnd sing the praises of the summer past.\\nThe cattle graze upon the gentle slopes;\\nThe ripening corn still stands within the fields;\\nThe lambs grow thickening coats for winter s\\ncold;\\nThe timid hare creeps forth at night in search\\nOf food and trembles at the thought of harm.\\nOctober sends her biting frosts and blasts,\\nAnd all the gorgeous robes which glorified\\nThe dying year change fast to funeral brown.\\nBy lavish splendor thus doth ebbing life\\nPraise coming death, and speak of life to be.\\nDeath glorified by wealth of beauty sings\\nThe song of triumph for returning life.\\nOLD BILL.\\nT had an old horse, his name was Old Bill,\\nIn sunshine and storm o er valley and hill,\\nThrough mud and through mire, his muscles and\\nbones\\nHad bore me right on, and over the stones.\\nIn the region all round no critter was found\\nThat could match Old Bill in climen the ground,\\nHe loped like a cradle, he paced and he walked\\nWherever I tried him he never had balked.\\nHe trotted right easy, was tender of bit,\\nHe never did shy, but was easy to sit\\nHe always was fat and no trouble to keep,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "120 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nSo his board and his vittels was always right\\ncheap.\\nBut hold on, as I mind me, I d here like to say,\\nThat he had more good sense than most men any\\nday.\\nThe things what he know d and things what he\\ndone\\nCan never be matched jist under the sun.\\nOld Bill had a heart as well as a mind,\\nI m sure that he loved us, for he always was kind.\\nHe d hanker around any hour of the day,\\nAnd he d fret and he d nicker when I went away.\\nThis one little fact will help you to know\\nHow Old Bill and me had an understanden or\\ntwo.\\nOne evenen rather late, it was early in May,\\nAs homeward I rid from the log-rollen of Clay,\\nI was janten along through the woods on Old\\nBill,\\nAnd jist as he made a quick turn up the hill,\\nAll unknown to myself, and, without any will,\\nI come down by a stump in the road, on a spill.\\nBut this suddent fall was no fault of Old Bill,\\nNor yet could I honest lay blame on the hill.\\nThe fact is that at Clay s the stone jug had been\\nround,\\nAnd in tasten the critter too much bliss I had\\nfound.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "OLD BILL. 121\\nBut neversoever whomever s to blame,\\nMy story when told will jist be the same.\\nHow acted Old Bill as I sprawled in sich plight?\\nDid he, like an old fool, suddent take fright\\nAnd go snorten away and leave me alone,\\nThat best as I could I might find my way home?\\nYou bet he did not; he done no sich mean trick,\\nHe stood stark still as if he knowd I was sick.\\nHe come up and put his nose close down to my\\nhead,\\nAs if somethen important he thunk orter be said,\\nHe fumbled my coat-sleeve, and quiet he stood,\\nAnd then he jist nickered as loud as he could.\\nLike he felt in distress his voice shuck the air,\\nTo let Polly at home know that I needed care\\nI laid there a coolen till airly next day,\\nWhen I straddled Old Bill and janted away.\\nWhen I santered up home the roosters was\\ncrowen,\\nFrom which fact I could tell that daylight was\\ncomen;\\nI pulled on the latch-string right easy with care,\\nSo if Polly was sleepen she never would hear.\\nI crep to the fireplace and sot in a chair,\\nI grabbed up the poker and punched up the fire,\\nAnd when Polly, a snoozen, began to inquire,\\nI told her I d jist riz to punch up the fire.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "122 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nBut I ve wandered in mind from the story I d\\ntell.\\nI jist told the small accident I had befell,\\nThat in counten up sense and choosen a part,\\nYou would reckon that Old Bill was ever so\\nsmart.\\nBut Old Bill he got weak and stiff in his jints,\\nHis backbone it stuck up and made many pints,\\nHis teeth they got so he couldn t bite off the corn,\\nI chunked up the stable to keep him more warm.\\nI chopped up his hay, mixed meal with his bran,\\nIntenden my treatment to be sich as a man\\nWhose horse had stood by him through thick and\\nthrough thin,\\nShould always and ever and orter have been.\\nWhen the grass in the paster got to growen and\\ngreen,\\nOld Bill I put in with the colts that I d wean,\\nSo that as they d eat and their bodies would grow\\nHe d fill up with grass and his sperets renew.\\nNow comes the main pint of what I would say,\\nAs I sot on the fence of the paster one day\\nBob Jones come a janten down past that way,\\nAnd he acted as if he had somethen to say.\\nSez I to Bob Jones, jist speak out yer mind,\\nFor I was anxious to hear and his purpose to\\nfind.\\nThen liften his right hand he pinted at Old Bill\\nAnd yelped Yer orter that old horse to kill.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "OLD BILL. 123\\nIt ain t economic sich a critter to keep,\\nHe s a wasten more grass than a dozen of sheep.\\nHe s a burnen disgrace to this whole naberhood,\\nAnd yer ortent to keep him if even you could.\\nWhen them words I had heerd both my blood and\\nmy bile\\nBegun in my wuzen to froth and to rile\\nEight off n that fence I tumbl d blam d quick,\\nAnd I fumbled all round for a stone or a brick.\\nBut while I was searchen and hunten around,\\nHis mare skipped away with a jump and a bound,\\nSwift down the big road she carried his bones,\\nAnd that was the last that I seed of Bob Jones.\\nIn the evenen, at night, when I told Polly Ann\\nWhat Jones he had said and how he had ran,\\nWith fire in her eyes too flashy to tell,\\nShe suddenly remarked, He s a gwyen to hell.\\nSez I to Polly Ann, I guess you spoke well,\\nFor it looks mighty plain that he s runnen for\\nhell,\\nHis chances for heaven are sickly and few,\\nOld Bill will outrun him for heaven, I know.\\nIf when I reach heaven, as I hope to some day,\\nAnd when we look rounds both Polly and me,\\nIf Old Bill ken spy us from his good paster land,\\nRight up he ll come runnen and by us both stand.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "I CANNOT ANSWER TO-DAY.\\nThe question you ask is old indeed,\\nBut I cannot answer to-day;\\nThat a woman should pledge her all to a man\\nIs a matter that claims some delay.\\nThe ships sail forth on the wide, wide sea,\\nThey trust that the breezes will blow,\\nWith chart and with compass right boldly they\\nsail,\\nFor with these their course they wcL Know.\\nBut where is the chart of a human mind?\\nWhat compass can point to its goal?\\nOr who knows the ways of the heart of man,\\nOr the path of a human soul?\\nTwo ships may sail on the wide, wide sea,\\nAnd may hail for many a day,\\nBut the storm may come and sweep them apart,\\nSo they sail from each other away.\\nTwo souls may start on the shining path,\\nTwo hearts throb warmly as one,\\nBut who can tell what the end will be\\nIf the clouds shall darken the sun?\\n124", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "THE SOUL AND INFINITY.\\nA s speck of conscious dust I move upon\\nThe shores of time and bide what yet awaits.\\nI stand and gaze into the voiceless depths,\\nI face the infinity towards which I move\\nAnd wonder what it holds in secret store.\\nSometimes I fain would turn my footsteps back\\nAnd tread the well-worn and familiar paths\\nTo give my steps more firm and steady gait.\\nWalled in by infinity, speechless I move,\\nBorne on forever to the boundless gulf,\\nDazed and o erwhelmed by the infinite unseen.\\nMy soul is weak to bear what presses in\\nFrom heights and depths that reach eternity.\\nThe infinite seeks entrance in my soul\\nAnd fills me with dumb awe and wonderment\\nToo great it is for mortal mind to hold.\\nMy fragile bark, a mote, is launched upon\\nA shoreless sea. It moves in silence on.\\nThe powers that be e er search me out\\nAnd fill my flickering sail with onward breeze.\\nOn, on I float, till landmarks on the shores\\nOf time grow dim; the sunset s crimson glow\\nFades slowly from the view; the veil of flesh\\nIs lifted from the soul the light breaks in\\nFrom radiant shores beyond, and then begins\\nThe jubilee that knows no end in heaven.\\n125", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "THE SPARROW.\\nA spakrow struggled high o erhead\\nTo loose its feet from tangled thread\\nThat hung suspended from the wall\\nWhich reached in air far over all.\\nThe passing multitude beheld\\nThe struggling bird that fast was held,\\nAnd quickly did all busy feet\\nStand still upon the crowded street.\\nAll eyes were fixed upon the bird,\\nDead silence reigned, no voice was heard,\\nStrong hearts in sympathy did beat\\nIn men who gazed up from the street.\\nThe sparrow strugged strong and brave\\nUntil the threads its freedom gave,\\nThen breathless silence changed to cheers\\nWhile from some eyes fell grateful tears.\\nIf hearts thus beat for sparrows small,\\nHow should they leap for man whose fall\\nHas chained his soul in dark despair\\nSo that he gasps for living air\\n126", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "THE UNIVEKSE.\\nBeyond where human eye can see\\nSpace stretches out a boundless sea,\\nThe countless stars that move on high\\nKeep constant watch with sleepless eye.\\nGod s universe doth stretch afar,\\nIt comprehendeth every star\\nThat floats aloft in endless space,\\nEach moving in its proper place.\\nNo man hath numbered every star;\\nThe telescope doth look afar\\nAnd countless stars bring into view\\nWhich mortal vision never knew.\\nNo eye but God s hath seen them all,\\nHe maketh each to rise and fall,\\nThey come and go beneath His view,\\nHe doth their failing strength renew.\\nThey circle round through endless days,\\nAnd in their glory brightly blaze;\\nThey sing to God eternal praise\\nWhile angels watch in deep amaze.\\nStar calleth unto distant star,\\nThey join their voices from afar;\\nTo God their songs they ever pour\\nAnd circle round Him evermore.\\n127", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "128 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nTheir chorus loud doth ever rise\\nAs they sweep circling through the skies,\\nAnd thus the music of the spheres\\nAscends to God through endless years.\\nForever in their broad domain\\nThey sweep along, an endless train,\\nAnd shed their glory through the years\\nTo dark and needy distant spheres.\\nEach star that shines is blazing sun\\nWhich giveth light to worlds unknown.\\nWhat countless planets must there be\\nIf stars are suns by which they see.\\nIf worlds are peopled like this earth,\\nWhat countless millions have had birth\\nSince time began her forward flight\\nAnd God put forth creative might.\\nAll living souls are God s great wealth,\\nHe maketh them to praise Himself.\\nIf souls are in God s image here,\\nWhy not such souls on distant sphere?\\nGod seeketh things of greatest worth,\\nAnd so in man the soul has birth\\nGod s image made by His own will\\nHis every purpose doth fulfill.\\nGod peopleth earth and worlds on high\\nWith souls that praise Him as they fly,\\nAll worlds and souls, a countless throng,\\nJoin in one universal song.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "IN THE WOODS. 129\\nIn joy they circle round God s throne,\\nAcknowledge Him as God alone,\\nAnd while they haste through space above\\nThey sing of His redeeming love.\\nAnd so through everlasting age\\nWith all their powers they will engage\\nIn songs of praise to Him alone\\nWho sits upon the eternal throne.\\nIN THE WOODS.\\nf^UT in the wild-wood\\nIn the month of May,\\nIn the generous shade\\nOf a beech tree I lay.\\nThe gray squirrel chuckled\\nOn the old oak tree;\\nHe sat on a knot\\nAnd chuckled at me.\\nHe ran out on a limb\\nAnd sprang through the air,\\nFalling short of his aim,\\nHe came down with a whir.\\nHe lit on his feet,\\nSomewhat he was dazed,\\nUp he soon scrambled,\\nI hollowed and chased.\\n(9)", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "130 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nHe ran quickly up\\nTo the top of the tree,\\nAnd then he no more\\nDid chuckle at me.\\nThe chipmunk crept out\\nFrom his hole in the ground,\\nAnd then he ran peeping\\nAnd prying around.\\nHe saw me sitting\\nBy the old beech tree,\\nAnd he wabbled and bobbed\\nClose up to me.\\nI snapped my finger\\nAnd away he flew,\\nHe soon stopped again\\nTo make a review.\\nHe frisked and he frolicked,\\nHe ran fast, he stopped short,\\nHe twisted, he twirled,\\nHe crept in and crept out,\\nAll the while peeping\\nAnd bobbing and creeping.\\nHe kept himself busy\\nAnd made me quite dizzy.\\nA rabbit came loping\\nAlong the wild path,\\nI whistled right sweetly\\nTo help make him laugh.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "IN THE WOODS. 131\\nHe stopped from his gallop\\nAnd pricked up his ears.\\nHe sat on his haunches\\nWithout any fears.\\nI whistled more sweetly\\nThan ever before\\nHe stood on his haunches\\nStraight up in the air.\\nHe saw me and looked\\nA little confused\\nI laughed at him lightly\\nAnd was only amused.\\nWhen he saw me laughing,\\nHe hied quickly away,\\nWhile I quite politely\\nUrged him to stay.\\nA raccoon lay sunning\\nHigh up in a tree\\nHe was too lazy\\nTo bother with me.\\nHe looked very coony\\nAs he lay there above;\\nI let him alone\\nOut of pure love.\\nA red bird sat whistling\\nDeep in the copse,\\nNow blithely he whistles\\nAnd then his voice drops", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "132 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nHe whistles so sweetly,\\nSo plaintive and low,\\nIt seems out of Paradise\\nGently to flow.\\nOh, bird of bright plumage\\nAnd bird of sweet song,\\nMay thy lot be happy\\nAnd thy life be long.\\nA brown thrush sat singing\\nUp over the spring,\\nHis notes were so flowing\\nAnd the song he did sing\\nWas so sweet and so liquid,\\nSo clear and so strong,\\nThat like the spring water\\nIt came bubbling along,\\nUp out of his heart\\nFree and unbidden,\\nIt flowed from the fount\\nIn which it was hidden.\\nThy wealth of sweet song,\\nThy bounty of praise,\\nMake thee a choice minstrel\\nTo sing heaven s own lays.\\nTwo jay-birds were quar ling\\nOverhead in the tree\\nThey squeaked and they squawked\\nIn devilish glee.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "THE WEAK DEVOURED BY THE STRONG. 133\\nOld scolds, as they were,\\nThey squabbled so long,\\nThat my muse, quite disgusted,\\nQuit singing her song.\\nOh, give me the wild-wood\\nIn the fresh month of May,\\nWhen the birds are all singing\\nAnd are happy and gay.\\nWhen the trees are all new\\nIn their garments of green,\\nWhere the squirrel and chipmunk\\nCan ever be seen.\\nAs for noisy jay-birds,\\nWho carry sulphur to hell,\\nThey serve the good purpose\\nTo break up my spell.\\nTHE WEAK AEE DEVOURED BY THE\\nSTEONG.\\nf~\\\\ who shall right the wrongs of men?\\nThe Christ stands pleading in vain\\nWherever the sun shines on this world\\nThe weak by the strong are slain.\\nTwo cents for an apron, six cents for a shirt,\\nThe widow bends over her work\\nHer children in rags and nibbling a crust,\\nShe labors from dawn until dark.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "134 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nPent up in a tenement eight by ten,\\nFoul air and dribblings of light,\\nGod s oceans of blessings free for all,\\nTo them have they no right?\\nHer life ebbs out in murdering toil\\nThat the children may draw their breath\\nThey live as beasts in dens of the earth,\\nAnd swiftly they hasten to death.\\nGod s broad green earth spreads far and wide,\\nAnd God is reigning supreme;\\nHe is flooding the world with air and light,\\nAnd seeking all life to redeem.\\nOh, who is crowding the poor to death,\\nAnd who has been deaf to their cry?\\nWho metes out to them the darkness and stench\\nThat they soon sicken and die?\\nWho robs the widow of wages earned?\\nWho drinks the orphan s blood?\\nWho withholds from them the blessings of God,\\nWhich he sends as a mighty flood?\\nGod burst wide open the dens of the poor,\\nPour in thy air and thy light,\\nGod pour thy Spirit in the hearts of men,\\nThat there it may strive with its might.\\nIf I could utter a prayer to Thee\\nThat the answer might surely come,\\nAll day and night my prayer would be,\\nThat the poor might have a home.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "THE lord s feast. 135\\nAll day and night my prayer would be\\nThat men might be more just,\\nThat Christ might reign in the hearts of men,\\nAnd that all in Him might trust.\\nTHE LOED S FEAST.\\nFhe Lord for man once made a feast,\\nInvited all, both great and least,\\nThe holy angels stood above\\nAnd served the bounties of God s love.\\nThe human race stood wide around,\\nMost closely crowded on the ground;\\nThe lame and halt and poor were there,\\nThe leper in his dark despair.\\nThe widow and the orphan stood\\nTo catch some blessing if they could;\\nThe sick on cots were brought and lay\\nTo share the blessings of the day.\\nBabes nursed at the poor widow s breast,\\nAnd other babes that seemed a pest;\\nThere stood the blind with open hand,\\nAnd poor outcasts from every land.\\nThe proud stood up in his estate,\\nAnd those bowed down with sorrow s weight;\\nThe rich stood jostling with the poor,\\nAs all did wait at heaven s door.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "136 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAmong the throng, and rising high,\\nTheir heads far reaching in the sky,\\nThe giants stood with upstretched hands\\nAmong the people of all lands.\\nThe Lord had giants well endowed\\nTo scatter food among the crowd\\nOf humble, sick, and weak and poor,\\nAs it was thrown from Heaven s door.\\nSo all stood beggars at God s door,\\nAnd we are beggars evermore,\\nEach hungry one did lift his hand,\\nAnd, waiting for God s food, did stand.\\nThe doors of Heaven open flew,\\nGod s angels down the blessings threw;\\nThe giants standing very high\\nCaught all big loaves as they did fly,\\nAnd quickly tucked them in a sack\\nWhich each had brought upon his back.\\nThe poor and hungry cried aloud,\\nAnd some did loudly curse their God,\\nBecause the giants did not give\\nThe heaven-sent loaves that they might live.\\nIn feeble hands some crumbs did fall,\\nFor giants could not catch them all.\\nThe sick and feeble cried in vain,\\nAnd many were by hunger slain;\\nThe lame and blind no loaves did catch,\\nFor giants tall they were no match.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "the loed s feast. 137\\nAnd so of the guests whom God had bid\\nTo come and feast upon His bread,\\nAll whom His loaves would well have fed,\\nSome cursed their God and fell down dead.\\nThe giants strided swift away,\\nAnd locked the loaves with triple key,\\nThen they did count them o er and o er,\\nAnd as they counted chuckled more.\\nO giants of the human race,\\nGod putteth you in your great place\\nWith brawn of arm and strength of brain\\nTo scatter blessings he doth rain.\\nHe showereth not to hoard in store,\\nFor each new day he sendeth more\\nMake not God s people starve for bread\\nBecause thou towerest overhead.\\nHis blessings are enough for all,\\nHis people to Him daily call,\\nFor Christ s sake let the blessings fall\\nWhich God is pouring down for all.\\nPour out some loaves from out thy sack,\\nOr else suspended from thy neck\\nA weight like millstones they will be\\nTo sink thy soul in God s black sea.\\nThe strong are stewards for God s poor,\\nWhile all are beggars at His door;\\nIf God should shut the doors of Heaven\\nThen no more blessings would be given.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "138 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThe loaves are naught unless they give\\nFood to the hungry that they live;\\nAll else on earth is little worth,\\nSave noble souls of noble birth.\\nGod grant more rich of noble mind\\nMay rise on earth to serve their kind,\\nThat on their pelf their souls may stand\\nTo scatter with a loving hand.\\nFor most part now pelf stands on self,\\nBut help, O Lord, put self on pelf,\\nThat man may know that souls of men\\nAre of more worth than pigs in pen.\\nWe live and die as do the swine,\\nOur greatest hope is just to dine;\\nTo eat and drink are life s great work,\\nAnd then we pass out in the dark.\\nGod, what can I say to Thee?\\n1 know full well I d rather be\\nA beggar lying at the door\\nAnd numbered with Thy poorest poor\\nThan seize the bounties of Thy hand\\nWhich Thou art showering o er the land,\\nAnd hoard them up in selfish store,\\nWhen all around are starving poor.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "THE TOAD.\\nQpeak out your mind aud tell me why\\nYou live upon this earth.\\nYou sit upon your haunches wide,\\nYou spraddle out your feet,\\nYou sit for hours and wink and blink\\nWith eyes of golden sheen.\\nYou pride yourself upon your skin\\nOf cold and clammy warts.\\nMaybe you ve turned philosopher,\\nAnd know the reasons why.\\nPerhaps you ve wrung from nature s heart\\nThe secret she would keep,\\nOr else you ve stolen from her brain\\nHer reasons dark and deep.\\nIf so pray tell what means this world\\nAnd all the things therein?\\nThy mouth is broad for fluent speech,\\nThy lungs are big for air,\\nThy tongue can move with lightning speed-\\nArt thou an orator?\\nThy skull is wide for breadth of view,\\nThy brain is cool and calm,\\nNo doubt thou st reasoned all things out,\\nAnd know st the utmost why.\\nCome tell me, now, and don t delay,\\nWhat means this mortal life?\\nOnce more he winked and twice he blinked,\\n139", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "140 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAnd then he hopped and jumped.\\nAgain I followed up and asked,\\nWhat means the mystery dim?\\nThou st had thine ear close to the earth,\\nAnd listened long and well,\\nCome, speak the riddle out to me\\nFor surely thou canst tell.\\nAgain he hopped and winked and jumped\\nAnd blinked, but answered not.\\nI stood in awe but still pursued\\nDetermined all to know.\\nFrom hops and jumps and winks and blinks,\\nI spelled his meaning out.\\nThus ran the thinking of his mind,\\nIn brief and simple words,\\nTo thought I ever give my mind\\nBut silent sits my tongue,\\nAnd thus to meditation s given\\nThe seal of highest heaven.\\nWhen thou dost look upon this earth\\nAnd would the mystery know,\\nHold fast thy noisy, prattling tongue\\nAnd use thy wondrous mind.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "THE OLD MILL.\\nTn the olden time there stood a mill\\nOn the bank of a sparkling stream,\\nThe water turned its creaking wheel\\nIn the days before there was steam.\\nIts drowsy hum crept through the air\\nAnd was borne by the breeze away;\\nIts creaking stones seemed in despair\\nFrom the task that before them lay.\\nIt served the weal of the neighborhood,\\nFor many a mouth it fed,\\nIts wheels were turned for the common good,\\nAs often I ve heard it said.\\nThe farmers came from miles around\\nWith grists for the mill to grind,\\nAnd they rejoiced at the whirring sound\\nFor it gave good cheer to find\\nThat there was water above the dam\\nTo keep the mill a running,\\nAnd so it made their minds grow calm\\nTo know that they d get their grinding.\\nSeated upon the horse s back\\nCame the barefooted, coatless lad,\\nBeneath him lay the well-filled sack,\\nAnd the boy was silent and sad.\\n141", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "142 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAway from the cabin he came that day,\\nWhere his help was sadly needed,\\nFor he had of late become the stay,\\nIn a place which death had deeded.\\nBill Grimes drove up with his oxen red,\\nHe called them Buck and Berry;\\nThey drew behind them an old-fashioned sled\\nHe whistled and sang right merry.\\nThe miller wore a smiling face\\nAnd greeted each one with a cheer;\\nHe gave to each grist its proper place\\nIn which it would sometime appear.\\nWith watchful eye and skillful hand\\nHe ground the corn to meal,\\nAnd then he slipped the moving band\\nAnd ground the wheat for weal.\\nFrom early morn till late at night\\nThe splashing wheel turned round\\nThe miller worked with patient might,\\nAnd the stones forever ground.\\nThe miller has gone with his smiling face,\\nAnd the mill has passed away;\\nThe miller served with right good grace,\\nAnd the mill fulfilled its day.\\nThe flowing water worked with grace,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nBy falling it turned the wheel\\nWithout the water there d have been no place\\nFor either the miller or mill.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "THE RABBIT. 143\\nWe stand as mill and miller to grind\\nWhen the moving power is given;\\nThe power to do we never can find\\nExcept as it flows from Heaven.\\nLet each man grind an honest grist\\nWith the power which flows through him,\\nThereby he will serve the loving Christ,\\nAnd his peace will find in Him.\\nTHE KABBIT.\\nThou timid, nimble creature,\\nHopping lightly o er the plain,\\nThou show st in ev ry feature\\nThat thou greatly fearest pain.\\nThou art hunted without mercy\\nBy man and beast of prey\\nThou trustest e er thy flying feet\\nTo carry thee away.\\nThou seek st the friendly brier patch\\nTo shelter thee from harm,\\nAnd mak st the grass thy humble thatch,\\nTo shield from winter s storm.\\nThou dost sit and cower and tremble\\nWhen thou hearest danger s sound;\\nAnd oft-times well dissemble\\nWhen thou crouchest on the ground.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "144 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAnd when the foe has forced thee\\nFrom out thy hiding place,\\nThou boundest lightly o er the earth\\nWith swiftly flying grace.\\nThy frugal meal is tender herbs,\\nThy drink is morning dew,\\nAnd when thou art by hunger pressed\\nThou dost the green bark chew.\\nThy life is kind and gentle,\\nThou doest no one harm,\\nThy mind is free from envy,\\nThy heart is ever warm.\\nAnd yet with all thy gentle grace,\\nIn all this world so wide,\\nThere seems to be no resting-place\\nIn peace for thee to bide.\\nO that some truce were granted\\nBy those who work thee harm;\\nIf thy soul could be transplanted\\nInto them, twould work reform.\\nBetter live on herbs and foliage,\\nBetter chew the tender bark,\\nThan to slay thy gentle neighbors,\\nWho may chance to be thy mark.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0150.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "ONLY A SLUM BOY.\\n\\\\n:ly a slum boy, sir,\\nWho often does occur.\\nHe s dressed in filthy rags,\\nHe goes with old vile hags.\\nHe smokes old stump cigars,\\nWith every breath he swears;\\nHe eats the apple cores,\\nHe says he d like some chores.\\nHe ever lies and steals,\\nHis body sometimes reels,\\nHe loves not God nor men,\\nHe s on his way to pen.\\nHe knows alone such right\\nAs he has gained by fight.\\nNo dream of charity,\\nHe sees disparity.\\nIn vileness he is bad,\\nIn all his make-up sad,\\nIn ignorance complete,\\nAnd full of all deceit.\\nA waif cast up by sea\\nOf great humanity.\\nA gamin of the street,\\nOf life most incomplete.\\n(10) 145", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0151.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "146 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nHe knows no mother s love,\\nHe knows no Heaven above;\\nHis soul s a desert waste,\\nHe lives as does the beast.\\nHe sees great churches rise,\\nWhose tall spires pierce the skies,\\nWhere paid choirs loudly sing\\nTo Christ the loving King.\\nHe sees stone mansion walls\\nWhose inner gilded halls\\nAre crowded with earth s wealth,\\nAnd then he creeps by stealth\\nTo find his plaoe of rest;\\nHe searches out the best,\\nIn corner by ash-barrel,\\nWhere sleeping cur doth snarl.\\nThe night is cold and long,\\nThe wind blows damp and strong..\\nHe shivers and he sighs,\\nHe calls aloud and cries.\\nThough footsteps near him fall,\\nNo one doth answer call;\\nHis body groweth numb,\\nAnd then his soul is dumb.\\nThey say he s only skum,\\nThat death sweeps from the slum-\\nThus they their souls relieve,\\nAnd would themselves believe.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0152.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "ONLY A SLUM BOY. 147\\nIs there no God on high\\nTo hear the slum-boy s cry?\\nIs there no heart to feel\\nAnd draw him from the heel\\nThat grindeth him to death\\nBy side of boundless wealth?\\nThe revelry and song\\nFar into night prolong.\\nThe dancing and the wine,\\nThe flowing robes so fine,\\nThe diamonds sparkling fair\\nAnd many jewels rare,\\nAre gods they worship now\\nAnd to them pay their vow.\\nThe slum boy lives and dies,\\nThey never hear his cries.\\nMen are bound up in self,\\nTheir souls so chained to pelf\\nThat human souls are naught\\nCompared to what is bought.\\nIt seemeth hardly fair,\\nThat slum boy in despair,\\nWith none of human kind\\nTo lend a helping mind,\\nShould pass in darkness out,\\nWhile those who sing and shout\\nAnd worship in fine way\\nShould have eternal day.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0153.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "148 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nIf slum boy stands in night,\\nThen he will curse and bite\\nThe men who by their might\\nTrod underfoot his right.\\nGod s blessings shower for all,\\nIf greater blessings fall\\nInto thy hands, then give\\nThat those who starve may live.\\nIn that great day, when all\\nShall answer final call,\\nSlum boy will stand and say,\\nThey just drove me away,\\nI did not have a chance\\nWith them that sing and dance;\\nThey left me in the lurch\\nWho sang in the big church.\\nI could not have a thing\\nCause they did only sing.\\nThey would naught for me do\\nWho sat in the fine pew.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0154.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "TALK WITH YOUE EYES, MY LOVE.\\nf~\\\\ talk to me with your eyes, my love,\\nSo sparkling, so clear and so bright;\\nAs blue as the azure vault above\\nJust talk with your eyes to-night.\\nI will listen, my love, while you speak to me,\\nNo word shall escape my lips\\nMy soul shall feast on the message sent\\nAs the bee on the nectar sips.\\nO sing me a song with your sparkling eyes,\\nSing sweetly the old, old song\\nThat flowed from your eyes in the days gone by,\\nAnd my heart will their music prolong.\\nWith eyes that twinkle as the stars of night,\\nThat laugh as the running brook,\\nThat beam from a face that blooms as the rose\\nBless me once more with a look.\\nCome, speak to me, love, with laughing eyes,\\nWith a look as in days of yore,\\nThat I may go far away in peace,\\nAnd see your face evermore.\\n149", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0155.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "THE WHIRLPOOL.\\nHPhe whirlpool roars in its thirsty rage,\\nIt drinks from afar the waters that flow;\\nDown deep in its throat a tumultuous roar\\nIts appetite never ceases to grow.\\nThe winds are borne inward by whirling and\\nswirl,\\nAnd sadly they moan in their prison below\\nThe living shriek madly as in terror they whirl,\\nAnd downward to death most swiftly they go.\\nThe whirlpool roars in the haunts of men\\nIts breath is drawn inward from distances\\nwide,\\nAnd wildly it runs in its inward flow\\nAs it bears fair youth on its rushing tide.\\nThe death-dance grows in its giddy whirl,\\nAnd dazzles all eyes by its magic flight;\\nForever they re drawn by its raging power,\\nAnd swiftly they sink in the darkness of night.\\nThe whirlpool yawns for the souls of men\\nWho stand entranced on its tragic brink,\\nTill inward they fall and downward they go\\nWhile thinking of naught and powerless to\\nthink.\\n150", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0156.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "SOME DAY.\\nQomb day my heart shall grow weary,\\nAnd its labors on earth shall then cease\\nIt shall sit in its silent chamber\\nWhen the years shall have brought its release.\\nO heart of my life thou hast loved me,\\nThou hast labored so long and so well;\\nThou hast wrought through long years that have\\nfaded,\\nWhile millions grew weary and fell.\\nIn the slumbers of night thou hast kept me\\nBy throbbing e er constant and true;\\nThrough sunshine and shadow most faithful\\nMy life thou didst ever renew.\\nO heart, thy great day is approaching\\nWhen to thee shall be given sweet rest;\\nThy labors on earth shall be ended,\\nAnd thy home shall then be with the blest.\\n151", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0157.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "MY GIKL IN DIXIE.\\nThere s a girl who lives in fair Dixie,\\nWho has stolen my heart away;\\nShe s the fairest the sun ever shone on,\\nAnd as bright as a morning in May.\\nHer eyes are more sparkling than dewdrops,\\nThey shine as the stars in the sky;\\nHer teeth are like pearls from the ocean\\nFor her I would live and would die.\\nShe skips as the lamb in the springtime;\\nShe sings as the mocking-bird sweet;\\nHer cheeks are dimpled with beauty,\\nAnd her heart is all free from deceit.\\nHer laughter comes rippling like water\\nThat flows from the bubbling springs;\\nHer words are as gentle as zephyrs\\nThat are fanned from the angels wings.\\nI love her most dearly, most truly,\\nThe girl in fair Dixie land\\nMy heart and my hand I would give her,\\nAnd by her forever would stand.\\n152", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0158.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "SING NOT OF THAT WHICH FADETH.\\nOing not of the flowers that have faded,\\nNor of leaves that are withered and dead;\\nSing not of the dying embers,\\nNor of summer that long since fled.\\nSing not of the coming winter,\\nNor of night that draweth nigh;\\nSing not of the hopes that have perished,\\nNor of those who weep and cry.\\nSing not of the flowing waters,\\nNor yet of the ebbing tide\\nSing not of the glowing sunset,\\nNor of things that cannot abide.\\nBut tune thy voice to the glory\\nOf God s eternal day;\\nInspire my heart with the story\\nThat fadeth not away.\\nTune well thy harp for the ages,\\nThat it may join the song;\\nThat it may make sweetest music,\\nWhile God shall the ages prolong.\\ni53", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0159.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "GOD OVEE ALL.\\nA few days of laughing,\\nA few days of weeping,\\nA few days of hoping,\\nA few days of fearing,\\nThen we lie in the dust;\\nBut still God is just.\\nNow we work gladly,\\nThen we weep sadly;\\nSometimes we go plodding,\\nThen we go rushing,\\nTill into the grave we fall;\\nGod over all, and under the pall.\\nThe madness of pleasure\\nWe seek without measure,\\nScarce stopping to think\\nTill we stand on the brink,\\nThen a plunge and the end;\\nO God, thy mercy lend.\\nIn the fever of life,\\nIts turmoils and strife,\\nOur souls are sawn,\\nAnd we are then drawn\\nInto the great black gulf;\\nGod help us enough.\\nO what can it mean?\\nThis life seems so lean,\\nOur best hopes are fraught\\ni54", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0160.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "GOD OVER ALL. 155\\nWith things that prove naught;\\nWe stumble in the night;\\nLord lend us thy light.\\nWe see God s star rise\\nIn the eastern skies.\\nSome day it will stand\\nOver all of God s land;\\nInto thy heart it may shine;\\nLord, make its light mine.\\nGod s star shone most bright\\nFrom on Calvary s height,\\nWhile the sun hid his face\\nAt the hellish disgrace\\nThat would quench God s own light;\\nGod s love is his might.\\nGod s love is his might,\\nIt doeth things right,\\nAnd though our short sight\\nMay think it a smite,\\nHis love is his light\\nWhich dispelleth our night.\\nThrough suffering great\\nWe reach our estate\\nThrough the darkness of night\\nWe push to the light,\\nWhere the sunshine plays\\nThrough the endless days.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0161.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "FOR WHAT DO YOU LIVE?\\nCor what do you live?\\nHave you ever decided?\\nThe world is divided.\\nSome live to eat,\\nSome eat to live,\\nBut why do either?\\nIf the hog could just find,\\nHow to speak out his mind,\\nHe would surely say\\nI live to eat corn,\\nMake the world all corn,\\nThen all will go well.\\nWhen the wolf speaks his mind,\\nHe says he d be blind\\nIf he did not prefer\\nThat the world be a sheep,\\nAnd then he could keep\\nHimself busy devouriug.\\nWhen the vulture doth wish\\nHe is ready to push\\nTo a final conclusion;\\nHe says without remorse,\\nGive me a dead horse\\nAs big as creation.\\n156", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0162.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "FOR WHAT DO YOU LIVE? 157\\nAnd so going around\\nIt can easy be found\\nWhat each one prefers;\\nEach one has his taste,\\nWhich makes him in haste\\nDecide for all creation.\\nBut why do you live?\\nIs it somewhat to give\\nOr just to receive?\\nIs it only to eat\\nYour bread and your meat\\nAnd then to lie down forever?\\nAs beggars we stand\\nWith uplifted hand\\nTo the Lord of creation\\nHis blessings do fall\\nIn showers for all,\\nBut who gathers them in?\\nThe strong crush the weak,\\nAnd loudly they speak\\nAs if owning creation;\\nBut God over all\\nWill cause them to fall\\nIn the final distribution.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0163.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "LIFE S JUMBLE.\\nPo-day it s too wet, to-morrow too dry,\\nTo-day we laugh, to-morow we cry;\\nNow comes a smile, then follows a sigh\\nAfter all, our living s not high.\\nOne time it s too warm, next time it s too cold,\\nThis year we re too young, next year we re too\\nold;\\nTo-day too timid, to-morrow too bold\\nBut, still, our hearts are not bold.\\nSunshine to-day chases shadows away,\\nWhile shadows chase sunshine the very next day;\\nSome times of year our hopes are full high\\nThey being dashed down, we weep and we cry.\\nWe love and we hate, we hope and we fear;\\nSometimes all is dark, and then all is clear;\\nOur hearts full of sorrow, and then of good\\ncheer,\\nAll things come to us in one short year.\\nAs the wheel of fortune turns swiftly around,\\nWith success and misfortune we quickly are\\ncrowned\\nBright hope and pleasure, sorrow and pain,\\nSunshine and gladness, darkness and rain;\\nThe cold and the wet, the warm and the dry,\\nPleasure and pain, the laugh and the sigh,\\n158", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0164.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "WORDS FAIL. 159\\nSinging and dancing, mourning and weeping,\\nFastly we go flying, or slowly go creeping.\\nNow we re too early, again we re too late,\\nNow we talk wisely, then as fools we prate;\\nO who can tell what from out of life s jumble\\nWhen our journey is done will finally tumble?\\nWho can surely tell whether aught will remain\\nOf the terrible mixture of pleasure and pain?\\nOf one thing we re sure, that, when it is past,\\nIt endeth in death, peace cometh at last.\\nThe Lord, from the mixture of things in this life,\\nFrom its things of beauty mingled with strife,\\nLooking for the good, searching very deep,\\nWill find His beloved and give them sweet sleep.\\nWORDS FAIL.\\nThere are thoughts that no words can e er\\ncompass,\\nEmotions where language all fails.\\nThey flow like the tide of the ocean\\nWhen over all else it prevails.\\nWide-sweeping they flood all my being,\\nO erwhelming all else in my life.\\nThey fill up my heart to o erflowing,\\nAnd swiftly they banish all strife.\\nAs the air that flows down from the mountains\\nSweeps over the valley and plain,\\nSo the floods of prevailing emotion\\nLet naught in their pathway remain.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0165.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "THE OLD FARMER HAS MOVED TO\\nTOWN.\\nT ve late moved in from the country,\\nMe n Susan an Jim are in town;\\nI ve bought property out on a street\\nThat goes by the name of Brown;\\nTo tell you the fact, sir, it don t suit me,\\nThis thing of moven to town,\\nBut I moved in all the same\\nJust to suit Susan an Jim.\\nYou see, thar s no room here\\nA feller can t well git his breath;\\nThe houses are so dreadfully crowded\\nThat I feel like I d smother to death.\\nAn then the onpleasant sounds\\nThat I always and everywhere hear\\nThe whistlens, an blowens, an grumblens,\\nAn groanens are all mighty queer.\\nThey re not what I ve been used to,\\nThey don t sound nat ral, you know\\nThis ringen of bells, an bio wen of whistles,\\nAn screechen of injines don t go\\nWell with an old feller like me;\\nI like, sir, the squeal of the pig,\\nExpecten his breakfast of corn,\\nAs he comes trotten up in a jig\\nWhen I call him right loud in the morn.\\n1 60", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0166.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "THE OLD FAMRER HAS MOVED TO TOWN. 161\\nThe crowen of the roosters,\\nThe cacklin of the hens,\\nThe quackin of the ducks,\\nAn squealin of pigs in the pens;\\nAn the old brindle cow,\\nBawlin loud for her calf\\nThem are the good old sounds\\nThat ken make me laugh.\\nI ll tell you, sir, Jim, he,\\nA few evenin s back,\\nTuck both Susan an me\\nIn a mighty fine hack\\nTo one of them operays\\nThat they re a haven nowadays.\\nWe sot on red cushions,\\nWe watched the fine people,\\nWe seed the new fashions,\\nAnd all went spinnen along\\nTill at last the prime-donner\\nGot off her best song.\\nWhen she d sung her best lick,\\nAn the people was all yellen\\nAn maken more noise than Ole Nick,\\nTo Susan I made the remark,\\nWhich I ll swear is true any day,\\nI d ruther hear Ole Bull bark\\nThan to hear sich screechin as this.\\nFact is, sir, nowadays\\nIs different from when I was born\\n(ii)", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0167.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "162 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nI m an old-fashioned man,\\nWith old-fashioned ways,\\nWho begun away back\\nIn them primitive days\\nWhen we chopped wood in the woods,\\nAn driv oxen to sleds,\\nWhen we rested our bones\\nOn good feather beds.\\nNo, sir, I can t git use\\nTo sich onusual ways\\nAs they git up in these days;\\nI d ruther set on the fence\\nOut on the old farm\\nAn see the hogs root\\nFur things in the groun\\nAn watch the lambs play\\nAn go frolickin aroun\\nWhar each feller you meet\\nIs hale feller well met,\\nAn thar haint no first class upper set\\nWho puts on some particlar airs.\\nOut thar yer dou t haf to go roun\\nDrest up in yer best close\\nAs yer got to in town,\\nLooken out all the time fur etikwet.\\nI like special the old wood,\\nWhar I ken jist holler\\nAs loud as I could;\\nWhar I ken call up the hogs\\nAn yell at the dogs,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0168.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "THE OLD FAEMEK HAS MOVED TO TOWN. 163\\nAn it s nobody s bizness\\nBut jist only my own.\\nAn then as to vittels,\\nWy, sir, I d ruther set down\\nTo bacon an dodgers an sich.\\nThings as Susan ken cook,\\nThan to be awful rich\\nAn live in this town.\\nIt s appetite, sir,\\nThat makes vittels good,\\nMuch more n it is\\nThe particular kine of food.\\nTo go roamen aroun\\nA lookin at things,\\nSwallerin good country air\\nAn drinken water from springs.\\nMakes all vittels first class.\\nNo, sir, I don t want\\nTo live in this town,\\nNor die here, nuther,\\nFur to die in this place\\nWould be only to smother.\\nGive me good country air\\nWhen I breathe out my last;\\nLet me hear the birds sing\\nWhen I give up the ghost,\\nAs they were use t to sing\\nIn the beginnen uv spring.\\nThis town aint no good place\\nTo bury a real dead man in;", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0169.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "164 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThar aint room nough roun here\\nFur so many dead people\\nAs dies ev ry year.\\nAn then them shinen black wagons\\nWith doors all shet up so tight,\\nWhen a feller s in sich a bad plight\\nAs bein all dead an undone,\\nI don t jedge its fair nor right\\nTo go totin him all aroun\\nThrough the principal streets of the town,\\nShet in from the good fresh air\\nAn the blessed sunlight\\nIn a closed-up wagon so tight.\\nWhen I m dead an goin to be gone,\\nI want to ride in the old open wagon,\\nAn pulled by old Charley an Bill,\\nAn I want to be tuck straight away\\nTo the graveyard on top of the hill,\\nWhar the big oak trees an the elms,\\nAn the sugar trees kiver the groun\\nAn make a big shade all aroun j\\nWhar the birds ken sing all day,*]\\nAn the rabbits an squirrels ken play,\\nAn thar l be no sich onpleasant soun\\nAs they re alles gitten up in this town.\\nOut thar on that ole hill-top\\nThar s nothen much but nat ral things,\\nAnd them s the things I like tip-top.\\nThe Lord hisself made them things,\\nAn man s not made things better.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0170.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "THE OLD FARMER HAS MOVED TO TOWN. 165\\nOut thar in the cool evnin time\\nThe Lord ken come an look aroun\\nAn hev nothin to disturb his mine\\nI don t think he comes much to this town.\\nI want to lay quiet on that ole hill,\\nTill Gabrel comes an blows his horn.\\nHe ll come a searchen roun\\nSome bright an shinen Sunday morn,\\nAn then with a mighty blast\\nOf that great an ringin horn\\nHe ll wake up all that s sleepin\\nIn that ole an ancient hill;\\nHe will rouse an set them go in\\nBy his great an mighty skill.\\nIt strikes me mighty plain\\nThat from that ole hill-top\\nWould be a good approprate place\\nFrum which to take a rize\\nJist as we go a starten off,\\nMigraten to the upper skies,\\nTo the fur off land above,\\nTo meet the ones we love.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0171.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "MAMMON.\\nOouls of men are more precious unto God\\nThan all the stars that float in boundless\\nspace.\\nThough burdened sore with heavy, galling\\nweights,\\nThey rise from out the dust and speak to God.\\nThey call Him by His name and tell their wants,\\nThey claim Him for their own and He claims\\nthem.\\nProud souls of mortal men, who stand on earth\\nAnd view the distant stars and talk with God,\\nWhy do you spend for that which feedeth not?\\nShall souls of men be buried under dust\\nWhich God hath made to tread beneath their\\nfeet?\\nMust they be bound by fetters to earth s gods?\\nOne soul in heaven s scales outweighs all stars.\\nDust speaketh not to God with voice of prayer,\\nNor doth it sing to Him with heart of praise.\\nWhy do the souls of men, heirs of God s uni-\\nverse,\\nBorn to rule in likeness of the mighty God,\\nFall prostrate in degrading service to the dust?\\nO cruel earth, thou god of our great race,\\nFor which, in hope to keep, men pawn their\\nsouls.\\n166", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0172.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "MAMMON. 167\\nGod snatcheth it from out their grasping hands\\nAnd leaves them in their nakedness and want\\nTo answer for their dark, unrighteous deeds,\\nThe fruitful brood of avarice and pride.\\nWhat deadly war doth spirit wage with dust!\\nWhich yet shall serve and which shall rule as\\nlord?\\nShall the dead clay within the potter s hands\\nEntomb the soul of nim who mouldeth it?\\nShall the souls of men be dead to cries for\\nmercy\\nWhile they worship at their shrines of sordid\\ngain?\\nGod free us from the cruel slavery\\nIn which our souls are ground to nothingness.\\nTeach us to know that growth of soul is growth\\nOf heaven s wealth that makes the angels sing;\\nThat triumph over dust is God s own power\\nWhich keeps the universe in place.\\nWhere lies the goal to which the thundering\\ntread,\\nThe onward rush, of countless millions leads?\\nWhat power doth urge, what mighty hand shall\\nguide\\nThe blinded, brutish race, as like a herd\\nClose packed, it presseth on in darkness black?\\nGod, lend the power of Thine Almighty Arm.\\nHarsh sound the mutterings mid the mighty\\nhosts,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0173.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "168 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThe storm-cloud gathers in life s surging sea;\\nThe stifling air is laden with foul curses\\nThen conies the earthquake s awful reel and\\ngrind\\nThe gaping earth doth feast upon the race\\nGod grant to mortal man a nobler fate.\\nArouse Thy people in their God-like might,\\nBreak short the chains that bind them to earth s\\ngods.\\nLift up their minds to know the Living God,\\nGive them new hearts with which to love and\\nserve,\\nNew wealth in souls redeemed from sin to God,\\nNew faith, new hope that s anchored in the veil.\\nTHE ROBIN\\nA^\\nt early dawn\\nOn an April morn,\\nWhen the wind was laden with snow,\\nAs in bed I lay,\\nAnd growled away,\\nThat weather should be so forlorn;\\nWhile I tossed and rolled\\nAs a common scold,\\nI growled in the ear of the morn\\nIn sadness I moaned,\\nIn madness I groaned,\\nThat nature should be so undone.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0174.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "THE KOBIN.\\n169\\nI looked and scowled\\nAnd wept and howled,\\nThat March into April had run.\\nWith spirit forlorn\\nI moaned at the storm\\nBut never could I understand,\\nWhy so cold a morn\\nShould ever be born,\\nWhen the sunshine of April was due,\\nWhy so dark a storm\\nShould ever form\\nIn the heart of a month so bright.\\nWhile thus sadly undone\\nAnd awaiting the sun,\\nI lay, on that blustering morn,\\nJust out in the tree,\\nSinging with glee,\\nA robin sat breasting the storm,\\nIn the morning gray,\\nAt the break of day,\\nThrust hard by the snow-laden wind,\\nWith his heart in tune,\\nIn the morning soon,\\nHis voice poured forth through the storm\\nA song so sweet,\\nIn measure so meet,\\nThat it thrilled to the core of my heart\\nAs louder it blew\\nAnd fiercer it grew,\\nAnd poured down the snow and the rain,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0175.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "170 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThe voice of the bird\\nMore plainly was heard\\nAs it pierced through the dim of the storm.\\nAnd then in my heart\\nWas a feeling of smart,\\nAnd my mind with shame was o ercome,\\nThat a creature so small,\\nWith nothing at all,\\nWhile the storm grew fiercer and cold,\\nShould fill the dark air,\\nWith its song and its prayer\\nAs if sunshine were reigning without.\\nYou eould never have known,\\nFrom the song that had flown,\\nOf the storm and the gloom that surrounded,\\nExcept from the swell,\\nAs it rose and it fell,\\nOf the voice that more clearly resounded.\\nThus ever in storm,\\nWhen heart fails to grow warm,\\nKemember the bird s cheerful song.\\nAs darker the day,\\nSo louder the lay\\nThat should pierce through the cold and\\nthe gloom.\\nThy soul can o ercome\\nAnd outride the storm\\nThat would sweep thee in darkness away;\\nThus darkness and rain\\nCan never bring pain\\nTo a heart that is brimming with praise;", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0176.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "CONCEIT. 171\\nWhatever the storm\\nThat meets us at morn\\nThe sunshine of heart can dispel.\\nCONCEIT.\\n/^~\\\\h! the height of human folly\\nThat struts and wabbles and swells,\\nThat says, Look here! I m a big one,\\nAll grandeur in me richly dwells.\\nSee the fool strutting on in his folly,\\nHis glory self-made, and poor stuff;\\nHe thinks that all eyes are upon him,\\nWhenever he chooses to snuff.\\nHow we re stuffed with conceit and delusion\\nThat we are so grand and so great.\\nWe worry and fume and grow angry\\nThat the world will not take us at rate.\\nHow we d shrink if the burster of wind-bags\\nShould suddenly get in his work.\\nWe would then see ourselves but poor shadows,\\nAnd away we would slink in the dark.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0177.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "FALLING IN LOVE.\\n\\\\1 Then you fall in love how far do you fall?\\nAnd when you ve thus fallen have you\\nfallen at all?\\nWhen you ve fallen in love don t you fall up\\nhill?\\nWhy call it a fall if it is your will?\\nAnd what is the power that makes you fall?\\nAnd why submit to the power at all?\\nGreat gravity tumbles us down to the ground,\\nBut what kind of gravity in love is there found?\\nI ve heard it said that love is attraction,\\nBut then it soon leadeth to violent reaction.\\nNo doubt it may be that the strength of the fall\\nCauseth strong rebound as a rubber ball.\\nWhen you fall in love don t you fall from self,\\nAnd leave the old boy sitting up on the shelf?\\nWhen you fall in love do you fall from grace,\\nOr do you fall up to a higher place?\\nWhen you fall in love don t you sail like a kite\\nUp into thin air to a very great height,\\nSo you feel as if you d smother to death\\nWhile you set up a gasping to get your breath?\\nIt seems to me that the fall is a rise\\nThat lifts a chap up right into the skies.\\nIsn t it really true when you fall in love\\nThat you dream you ve fallen to heaven above?\\n172", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0178.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "LOOK UNTO HIM. 173\\nThis falling in love is a very queer thing,\\nYou fall like a stone or you sail like a wing.\\nYour feet hit the earth or your head hits the\\nstars,\\nYou may land on the earth or may land on Mars.\\nInstead of a fall is it not a jump,\\nBy which you quick light chuck down in a\\nhump?\\nAnd when you have lit you generally feel\\nThat you do not know your head from your heel.\\nWhen you fall in love you light at the feet\\nOf the girl whose wits you are trying to cheat,\\nBut you cheat yourself, for she knows full well\\nThat your attack of love will have a brief spell;\\nThat in a short time your head will get cool,\\nAnd then you won t act so much like a fool.\\nShe may endure you for more or less time,\\nAnd not look on your love as a very dark crime.\\nLOOK UNTO HIM.\\nam sailing afar on life s ocean,\\nI am driven before its strong tides,\\nBut my heart ever turns with devotion\\nAnd in safety at home it abides.\\nThough the storm-clouds may gather in dark-\\nness,\\nAnd dread lightnings may flash through the\\nsky,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0179.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "174 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nYet my heart ever turns with sweet gladness\\nTo the hope of the mansions on high.\\nOh, the home of the soul that abideth\\nThat no storm can e er reach or assail.\\nYes, I look unto Him who e er guideth,\\nThat in safety to port I may sail.\\nTHE WORTH OF GREAT MEN?\\n\\\\J hat is the worth of one great man?\\nWho can the worth of Lincoln scan?\\nPile high the glittering gold of earth,\\nHow can it equal his great worth?\\nHow many acres broad of land,\\nHow many diamonds from the strand,\\nHow many jewels, by the ton,\\nCan bless the world like Washington?\\nO er England s wealth in ships and gold,\\nStands Gladstone s name forever bold;\\nA name that shall enrich mankind\\nAnd bear aloft the human mind.\\nWhat gold from out the sea and earth,\\nCould pay for Shakspear s timely birth?\\nAll earthly riches come to naught,\\nHis fame cannot by them be bought.\\nWhat wealth can pay for Homer s song,\\nWhich shall through time his fame prolong?", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0180.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "THE WORTH OF GREAT MEN. 175\\nWhat sparkling jewels can we bring\\nTo pay the debt when Burns shall sing?\\nWho weighs out gold gainst David s lyre?\\nOr pays it for Isaiah s lire?\\nOr asks to buy Paul s God-like power,\\nWhich stands for man a mighty tower?\\nThrough men like these mankind is great,\\nTheir lives we have no means to rate.\\nTheir power shall grow from age to age,\\nTheir fame shall glow on history s page.\\nBy them the race is glorified,\\nIn them our faith shall e er abide.\\nTime cannot spoil their work nor fame,\\nThey live in deeds as well as name.\\nGod plants his heroes in the land\\nWhere they as mountains firmly stand.\\nThey lift their heads far in the sky\\nAnd flash their glory from on high.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0181.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "A MAN OF DIGNITY.\\nThere was a man of dignity,\\nOn dignity he stood;\\nThis man he neither laughed nor smiled\\nBecause he never would.\\nHe nursed his dignity by day,\\nAt night he laid it down,\\nAnd if you touched his dignity\\nHe always made a frown.\\nHis dignity was all he had,\\nHis capital in store,\\nHe shoved it out before your eyes\\nAnd made himself a bore.\\nThis man he looked so wise and great,\\nHis dignity did shine;\\nAnd when he gazed upon himself\\nHe looked superbly fine.\\nHe sat upon a stool one day,\\nA goat rushed up behind,\\nHis dignity quick took a fall,\\nAnd then he had no mind.\\n176", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0182.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "A LIMPY LAME BOY.\\nT m jist a limpy lame boy, Lord,\\nAnd for me you ain t got no use;\\nI d jist like to say a few words, Lord,\\nAnd tell you my own excuse.\\nYou see that my coat is ragged, Lord,\\nI don t like to show it to you,\\nAnd then my breeches needs patchin Lord,\\nAnd there s a great big hole in my shoe.\\nI m ashamed not to have on Sunday clo es, Lord,\\nBut these is the best that I ve got,\\nAnd if you re not ashamed to see me, Lord,\\nI ll jist say a few words if you re not.\\nWell, as I was sayin jist now, Lord,\\nI m only a limpy lame boy;\\nI couldn t help a bein limpy lame, Lord,\\nAnd bein lame I don t zackly injoy.\\nI want to tell you jist here, Lord,\\nAnd what I tell you is square,\\nI never did steal Bill s apple, Lord,\\nIf you don t believe me, I ll swear.\\nI ll tell you I ain t a complainen, Lord,\\nAnd I don t like fellers what do;\\nI d still feel mighty thankful, Lord,\\nIf I didn t have nary a shoe.\\n(12) 177", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0183.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "178 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nDon t you think it was pretty tough on me, Lord,\\nWhen some n come and tuck my brother?\\nAnd then I thought I was clean done for, Lord,\\nWhen some n came and tuck away mother.\\nBut I ve been a doin purty well, Lord,\\nAs good as you might expect\\nAnd if I ve done somethin you don t like, Lord,\\nI jist hope you can t ricollect.\\nI want to tell you jist here, Lord,\\nThem cuss words tother night I never said;\\nTwas a feller near by me hit his crazy bone,\\nLord,\\nIf it ain t true, sir, jist let me go dead.\\nAnd now I want to tell you, Lord,\\nI ain t no low beggar nor sich;\\nI worked hard for all I have, Lord,\\nAnd I earned it myself every stitch.\\nTo be sure there s some things I d like, Lord,\\nThat I ain t jist now able to git;\\nSome store clo es would be mighty good, Lord,\\nSich as has a real nice fit.\\nA square meal of them big red apples, Lord,\\nThat is round at Old Mugginses store,\\nWould make me step mighty peart, Lord,\\nIf I could jist get a dozen or more.\\nI don t zackly like the place where I sleep, Lord,\\nThat corner down in the dark cellar;", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0184.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "HOW I CAUGHT HIM. 179\\nIt s purty cold on the straw with no kiver\\nLord,\\nBut to complain I m not jist the feller.\\nThere s one thing I d jist like to tell you, Lord,\\nFor I guess you don t maybe know;\\nThere s little Jake Stivers is awful sick, Lord,\\nAnd I heerd em say he d haf to go.\\nYou ll find him down in that cellar on straw,\\nLord,\\nHe s awful puny and weak;\\nI wish, if you kin spare the time, Lord,\\nYou d go down and hear little Jake speak.\\nHis voice, you kin skeercely hear it, Lord,\\nBut maybe you kin understand;\\nIf you ll help little Jake Stivers, Lord,\\nYou ll be the best man in the land.\\nAs fur me, I m doin real well, Lord,\\nBut I ll tell you little Jake is hard up,\\nAnd if you kin lend him a helpin hand, Lord,\\nI ll shout with my might and I ll jup.\\nHOW I CAUGHT HIM.\\nT ll tell you how I caught me a lover,\\nFrom those who around me long did hover;\\nWho came to woo me each Sunday,\\nAnd stayed very near until Monday.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0185.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "180 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThere was Dobbins, who sat on his chair\\nWith a wonderful sanctified air,\\nTom Snooks, whose nose was too big,\\nAnd Brown who much needed a wig.\\nThere was Simpkins, who laughed all the time,\\nAnd Jones, who thought he looked prime,\\nJohn Smith, who talked of his horse,\\nAnd Gaskins, who talked of things worse.\\nTom Watkins came marching in, too,\\nAnd Wade, with his tight-fitting shoe,\\nAnd Tompkins, who wore no cravat,\\nAnd Dash, with his very small hat.\\nCame all of these lovers and more\\nThey numbered well nigh to a score.\\nSome laughed while others looked sad,\\nBut at last my dear Pa he grew mad.\\nPa said it was nonsense and folly\\nTo treat all these lovers so jolly.\\nHe said that I ought one to choose,\\nAnd then swiftly throw out my noose.\\nSo I told them what Pa he had said,\\nAnd then quickly all of them fled,\\nWhich made me indeed feel silly,\\nBut I captured sweet Laughing Billy.\\nSweet Laughing Billy s now mine,\\nMost brightly his face doth shine.\\nHe says that the swift-flying noose\\nHe never had time to refuse.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0186.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "A LETTER. 181\\nHe says that the swift-flying noose\\nHe never had time to refuse.\\nThe swift-flying noose, flying noose,\\nHe never had time to refuse.\\nA LETTER.\\nT had a letter from Johnnie,\\nIn which he calls me his dear;\\nHe says that he fondly loves me,\\nWhich sounds indeed very queer.\\nAh, Johnnie, I ve heard of your letters,\\nWhich you write to so many girls;\\nAnd truly they all read alike, sir,\\nFor you call them all your sweet pearls.\\nCome, Johnnie, just change your tactics,\\nAnd write in another strain,\\nAnd if you are truly in earnest,\\nJust leave off your sad refrain.\\nA girl knows her mind when she has one,\\nShe keeps her wits sharpened and bright;\\nShe walks with her feet on the earth, sir,\\nAnd becomes not giddy with flight.\\nCome down from your clouds and your glory,\\nJust write a plain business hand,\\nAnd I will not fail to inform you,\\nWhen rightly I once understand.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0187.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "THE LORD CARETH.\\nThe Lord is moving man upward,\\nHe stirreth the nations afar;\\nThe chaff and the dross he is burning,\\nWhile onward he driveth his car.\\nHe calleth aloud to the nations,\\nHis Spirit is striving with man;\\nHis power forever is present\\nTo bless wherever it can.\\nO the blindness and deafness and dumbness,\\nThe sin and the folly of man,\\nThey drag him forever downward,\\nBut the Lord lifteth all that he can.\\nThe Lord hath chosen his people,\\nThey are scattered through time and through\\nspace;\\nThe weak and the wronged he will care for,\\nWhatever the nation or race.\\nTheir sorrow shall turn into laughter,\\nBright joy for dark mourning he ll give;\\nHe will bless and crown them with beauty,\\nAnd they in his presence shall live.\\nThe haughty shall fall down before him,\\nThe proud shall soon lie in the dust;\\nThe false shall endeavor to shun him,\\nThe true shall seek him in trust.\\n182", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0188.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "the skeetee. 183\\nThe Lord is gracious and mighty,\\nHe knoweth and loveth his own;\\nHe ruleth forever in mercy,\\nWhile he sitteth upon his white throne.\\nTHE SKEETER.\\nT^he skeeter is the blithest bird\\n1 Of all the birds that fly;\\nHe lifteth up his tender voice\\nWhene er he draweth nigh.\\nHis voice is tuned to wondrous pitch,\\nIt s tuned into the sky,\\nAnd when he soars above your head\\nHis tune is soaring high.\\nHe is a very social bird,\\nHe seeks you out at once,\\nAnd when he spies your blooming face\\nStraight on you he will pounce.\\nAn introduction asks he not,\\nHe seeks to introduce\\nHis bill into your smiling face.\\nTo fill himself with juice.\\nHe sticketh closer to you then\\nThan brother dear or friend,\\nFor friendship close and social work\\nOn him you can ^pend.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0189.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "184 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nHe never seems to come too late,\\nHe always comes too soon;\\nAt night he often soars aloft\\nWith eyes upon the moon.\\nIf you should think he will not come\\nWhen you have gone to bed,\\nJust wait till you are sleeping sound\\nAnd he will pierce your head.\\nMost sure when you are trying hard\\nTo close your eyes in sleep,\\nThen he will softly sing around\\nAnd at you take a peep.\\nWhenever he presents his bill\\nYou know he will collect,\\nAnd that he will present his bill\\nYou always may expect.\\nSo pay up promptly all he asks\\nAnd let him fly away,\\nThen sure he will remember you\\nAnd call another day.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0190.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "THERE S A LIGHT.\\nThere s a light on the mountain that s shining\\nIt sendeth its radiance afar,\\nIt lighteth the hill and the valley.\\nAnd shineth as Heaven s own star.\\nO the beautiful light on the mountain,\\nIt glows mid the darkness of night;\\nIts beams speed away with their message\\nAnd fly on the wings of the light.\\nMost gracious and gently thou coraest,\\nAnd liftest the curtain of night,\\nThy beams all beauty revealing\\nAs swiftly thou makest thy flight.\\nThere s a light that is shining from Heaven,\\nIt pierces the gloom of the earth,\\nIt shines on the souls of the sinful\\nAnd gives them a heavenly birth.\\nThere are souls that are crying in anguish\\nAnd hearts that are bowed in the dust;\\nThe light has gone out in their bosoms,\\nThey know not in whom they can trust.\\nThey wander in sin and in darkness,\\nThey grope mid the pitfalls of earth;\\nThey see not the goal of God s people,\\nNor know whence the soul had its birth.\\n185", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0191.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "186 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThey reach out with hands that are helpless,\\nAnd plead with a piteous face;\\nThey know not what they should ask for,\\nAnd naught do they know of God s grace.\\nWho will carry the light to the darkness?\\nWho will pour the light in their souls?\\nWho will grasp the hands that are lifted\\nAnd lead them to Heaven s own goals?\\nO ye bearers of light, quickly hasten,\\nGod bids you to let your light shine\\nThe light you ve received from the Master\\nThe light that alone is divine.\\nTHE GOLDEN GODDESS.\\nA young man stood at life s threshold,\\nThe pulse of his life beating strong;\\nHe was seeking a place where to labor\\nAmid the earth s mad, rushing throng.\\nHe scanned all places of labor,\\nHis mind was in trouble and doubt;\\nHe followed the throng in its marching\\nTo learn what they all were about.\\nAt the foot of a mountain was standing\\nA temple of gold, and a throne;\\nIts domes pierced the clouds of the heavens,\\nAnd its doors were wide open thrown.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0192.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "THE GOLDEN GODDESS. 187\\nOn the throne in the temple was sitting\\nA goddess who glittered with gold,\\nIn her hand a gold harp she was playing,\\nAnd she sang with a sweetness untold\\nAll who enter my temple, and labor,\\nGreat riches and honor shall gain;\\nA temple of gold each shall build him\\nIn which his good soul shall remain.\\nWild rushed the mad throng through the doorway,\\nThe young man was borne in the tide;\\nThe temple was crowded with workmen\\nThe clanging was fearful and wild.\\nEach man at a forge was toiling\\nHe was shaping dollars of gold,\\nWhich he placed in a coffer beside him,\\nTill the coffer refused to hold.\\nThe young man seized a hammer,\\nAnd wrought with a lusty arm;\\nTo see the bright gold glitter\\nGave his soul a wondrous charm.\\nThe dollars he threw in a coffer,\\nAnd again he returned next day;\\nHe bowed to the golden goddess,\\nAnd onward went his way.\\nHe wrought with his brain and muscle,\\nHe labored early and late\\nHe smiled at the golden goddess,\\nAnd worshiped her as fate.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0193.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "188 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nLong years sped on in their going,\\nHe ceased not to come and go\\nIn coining he grew more skillful,\\nTill his wealth he did not know.\\nHis eyes grew dim in the sunlight,\\nThe stars he could no more see;\\nHe scarce knew his wife and children\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nAn eye for gold had he.\\nHe heard not the laugh of children,\\nHe heard not the song of birds;\\nThe world was moving about him,\\nBut for man he had no words.\\nHe praised the golden goddess,\\nHer song all day he sang\\nMore swiftly he forged the dollars,\\nAnd louder his anvil rang.\\nAll day he wrought in the temple,\\nFar into the night he spent,\\nUntil the day was dawning,\\nBefore he homeward went.\\nHis eyes grew dim and dimmer,\\nNaught could he see but gold;\\nThe sun and the moon had faded\\nThey seemed as a tale that is told.\\nHe sang one song in the morning\\nMore gold, more gold, more gold;\\nAnd he sang all day till the evening\\nMore gold, more gold, more gold.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0194.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "THE GOLDEN GODDESS. 189\\nThe goddess sat smiling and singing,\\nAnd ever her harp she did play,\\nWhile loudly his anvil was ringing\\nFrom morn till the close of day.\\nAt last he remained in the temple,\\nThe light and the air he refused;\\nHis wife and his children forgotten\\nIn coining his time was all used.\\nHis body grew thin as a spectre,\\nHis soul knew naught but the gold,\\nAnd wildly he sang to the goddess\\nMore gold, more gold, more gold.\\nHe fell in his frantic endeavor,\\nHe lay on the coffers of gold,\\nAnd quickly his life was there ended\\nAs he gasped More gold, more gold.\\nSo they fell every day by thousands,\\nAnd the goddess still played and sang;\\nNew mortals ever came rushing,\\nAnd loudly the anvils e er rang.\\nThey worked in the golden temple\\nWhere the light of God never shone;\\nTheir souls were chained to the goddess\\nWho sat on the golden throne.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0195.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "IN JUNE.\\nt^ OLDEN-tinged the ripening harvest,\\nSweet the fragrant new-mown hay.\\nGlittering shine the morning dew-drops\\nWhen they greet the new-born day.\\nLoudly sounds the quail s shrill whistle,\\nAs he hails the rising sun.\\nBlithely trills the friendly robin,\\nWhen the day begins to run.\\nCrimson grow the ripening berries,\\nKissed by sunshine s living rays.\\nGolden turn June s luscious apples,\\nIn the long bright summer days.\\nDrooping low from tips of branches,\\nEipens now the early pear.\\nTempting grow the scarlet peaches,\\nBlushing as the maiden fair.\\nLife is flooding all the living,\\nPressing full all nature s veins.\\nNow to live is well worth living,\\nWhen great life supremely reigns.\\n190", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0196.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "WAK.\\nT oud sounds the trumpet of Almighty God,\\nHeaven s war-drums beat God s urgent call\\nto arms.\\nTheir voice is rolling through the slumbering\\nworld.\\nAwake, ye righteous, gird your armor on,\\nMarch forth to fight the battles of the Lord,\\nHis cruel foes are smiting all the earth.\\nThe nations groan in abject slavery.\\nMan croucheth low in semblance of the brute.\\nHe rends his fellow-man with savage fangs,\\nAnd gloats in blood and laughs at pangs of\\ndeath.\\nThe image of Almighty God has fled\\nAnd left man reigning as a senseless brute.\\nThe nations bay each other as wild beasts.\\nThe strong, in God s own name, devour the\\nweak\\nThey lie in wait and leap with tiger s spring\\nTo tear and eat man s flesh and drink his blood.\\nThey prowl the ocean with their mighty fleets,\\nAnd search through every land in quest of prey.\\nEach Christian land God save the name of\\nChrist-\\nBrands Christ s own name upon its brazen\\nfront,\\n191", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0197.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "192 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAnd carries fire and sword in search of prey.\\nEach Christian king, his heel upon their necks,\\nDoth drive his subjects on in deadly toil,\\nThat he may waste their substance in hell s\\nwars.\\nEach Christian king doth turn his nation s brain\\nTo invent and forge machines of cruel death.\\nThe nations brawn and brain are used to slay;\\nThe people s substance eaten up, that man\\nMay face his fellowman in deadly strife.\\nTo kill, and not to live, is life s chief aim.\\nThe millions groan beneath the tyrant s heels,\\nThey faint beneath their grinding, galling loads.\\nThe strength of youth and manhood s ripest\\nyears\\nAre forced to slaughter by the tyrant s pride.\\nAll tears and groans and blood and piteous\\nprayers\\nAre naught before the war-god s heart of stone.\\nChrist yet shall rule, God s voice is thundering\\nloud;\\nHe calls His people from the ends of earth\\nTo battle for the conquering Prince of Peace.\\nThe thrones of kings are in His mighty hands.\\nAll kings must answer roll-call unto God;\\nHe drives them as the dust before his breath.\\nThe war-god shall be chained and cast in hell,\\nGod s people shall go free and live in peace.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0198.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "TO THE GREAT SEA. 193\\nYet shall they lift their hearts and eyes to\\nheaven,\\nAnd see and know their God, who rules and\\nloves.\\nThen shall it be as sung by angel choirs,\\nOn earth good will and peace among all men.\\nTO THE GKEAT SEA.\\nT now am on the ebbing tide,\\nOn outward flow I fast do ride;\\nIt floweth back to ocean wide\\nThat it may add to rising tide.\\nThe ocean beateth on the land,\\nIt beareth back the shifting sand\\nFrom off the shore into the sea,\\nThus life s great ocean moveth me.\\nI m floating down on life s great river,\\nInto the ocean of the Giver\\nEach pulse of heart, like stroke of oar,\\nFast bears me towards the unseen shore.\\nThe voyage may be short or long,\\nThe breezes may be soft or strong,\\nThe weather may be cold or warm,\\nYet I shall float away from harm\\n(13)", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0199.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "194 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nInto the deep and boundless sea\\nThat filleth all immensity.\\nNo earthly storm, nor wind, nor tide\\nCan turn me from my course aside.\\nAs waters flow to ocean wide,\\nAnd cannot on the land abide,\\nSo life that liveth now in me\\nIs flowing down to life s great sea.\\nThe hand of God doth draw along\\nAlike the weak and great and strong\\nIn time s great flood which beareth all,\\nAnd in one ocean let s them fall.\\nAs I float down near life s great sea,\\nMy muffling heart will beat with glee\\nTo hear the voices near the shore\\nOf those who long since went before.\\nIGNOKANCE AND UNBELIEF.\\nTs all the universe a sigh?\\nDoes life all end in gasp and cry?\\nDoes Juggernaut ride in his car\\nAnd crush our life with dark despair?\\nGross ignorance and unbelief\\nSteal peace of mind as cunning thief,\\nAnd leave us sitting on the ground\\nIn misery the most profound.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0200.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "HE EVER WORKETH. 195\\nWe see nor know what lies beyond,\\nOur ignorance is all profound,\\nWe re murdered by ecstatic grief\\nThat rises from dark unbelief.\\nWe come to that momentous end\\nWhich God doth to each mortal send,\\nWhen life doth vanish with a breath\\nAnd eyes forever close in death.\\nAs living flame leaps to the sky\\nSo mounts my soul to God on high,\\nWhile yet it sees with vision dim,\\nIt giveth back itself to Him.\\nHE EVER WORKETH.\\nThe wheels of God ne er backward turn,\\nFrom age to age they forward run,\\nThey always turn at speed the best,\\nNor do they ever stop to rest.\\nGod s spindles hum by day and night,\\nTheir threads are drawn in swiftest flight,\\nBoth strong and fine they ever flow,\\nWhile His own spinsters make them grow.\\nGod s looms are plied with steady hand,\\nThey noiseless weave in every land\\nHis weavers weave with daintiest skill\\nWhile all are driven by His will.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0201.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "196 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nWhat fabrics from His looms e er fall,\\nWhile His goodangels weave them all.\\nSee blade of grass and dainty flower,\\nAnd sparkling dew and summer shower,\\nSee this great world with song and bird,\\nAnd living things, a mighty herd,\\nAll falling fast from His great looms,\\nWhile those grown old e er seek the tombs.\\nHis looms e er better fabrics weave,\\nOld forms behind they ever leave,\\nAll patterns best His angels choose\\nWhile worthless ones they e er refuse.\\nMixed up with sunshine and with shower,\\nThey weave with skill and secret power,\\nNo mortal yet hath seen the hand\\nThat weaveth all by His command.\\nHis angels come with silent tread\\nAnd weave the living from the dead,\\nWhile God doth touch it with His breath\\nAnd thus deliver it from death.\\nThe finest fabric He doth weave,\\nIs soul of man which doth receive\\nImprint of God s own vital self,\\nWhich giveth it eternal wealth.\\nO soul that s born of God s own breath,\\nWhy fearest thou a second death?\\nLift up thine eyes and see afar\\nIn firmament the one Great Star.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0202.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "O THAT SOMEBODY WOULD LIVE THE\\nGOSPEL!\\nthat somebody would live the gospel\\nThat so many preach in vain\\nthat somebody would help the helpless\\nWho by cruel hearts are slain\\n1 saw a man who was stooping,\\nHe was striking heavy blows;\\nHis jaw was hard-set and determined,\\nAnd his face was pinched with woes.\\nI said, Your lot seems hard, sir,\\nThe hammer you swing is great;\\nThe wages you earn must be good, sir,\\nFor you labor early and late.\\nThe form rose up in its anguish,\\nThe hammer stood poised in the air\\nNine blows I strike for the master,\\nAnd five for those in despair.\\nNine blows I strike for the master,\\nAnd two for myself and wife;\\nThree blows I strike for the bairns, sir,\\nWhich scarce preserve their life.\\nLow bent the form in labor,\\nHard clanged the hammer the steel;\\nIts thrill rang through my heart-strings\\nTill my heart refused to feel.\\n197", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0203.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "198 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nthat somebody would live the gospel\\nThat so many preach in vain\\nO that somebody would help the helpless\\nWho by cruel hearts are slain\\nTHE BEAUTIFUL.\\nThe beautiful earth and the beautiful seas,\\nAnd the mountains that rise in glory;\\nThe beautiful birds in the beautiful trees,\\nAnd the beautiful song and story.\\nThe beautiful stars that shine in the sky,\\nThe sun in his glory and power;\\nThe beautiful moon that circleth on high,\\nAnd the rain that falls in the shower.\\nThe beautiful flowers that spring from the earth,\\nThat distill their sweet fragrance afar;\\nThe beautiful rose of heavenly birth,\\nThat opens its eye on the star.\\nThe beautiful pearls that shine in the sea,\\nThe diamonds that sparkle so rare\\nThe beautiful world that is to be,\\nWith its freedom from trouble and care.\\nThe beautiful soul that s brimming with love,\\nAs the waters fill up the ocean,\\nAll praise the Lord who ruleth above,\\nAnd bow in eternal devotion.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0204.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "I OVEKHEARD HIM SAY.\\nT ll plant these daisies in thy hair,\\nThy auburn hair, thou sweet and fair;\\nI ll plant a kiss upon thy cheek,\\nThy rosy cheek so pink and meek.\\nWhy should st thou turn away and pout,\\nThy sweet mouth pout as if in doubt?\\nCome, ruby lips, I ll stop your pout,\\nThat lovely pout, I ll kiss it out.\\nNow do not drive me to despair,\\nDark, dark despair, for still I ll swear\\nThou art of all most sweet and fair,\\nMost fair, most fair, with auburn hair.\\nWASTEFULNESS.\\nTs this the day of God s best grace,\\nWith this great, toiling human race?\\nWhat of its future here on earth?\\nShall it be state of greater worth?\\nWill human race fast multiply\\nSo that for lack of food they ll die?\\nShall men, like tigers, bound and chase\\nEach other in the deadly race?\\nWhat do for heat to cook and warm?\\nWill not a shivering mass then swarm\\nAround one heap of dying coals\\nTo thaw their bodies for their souls?\\n199", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0205.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "200 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAll fuel burnt by man in waste\\nDoth coldest day for man help haste.\\nThe energy in coal that s stored\\nIt is man s duty wise to hoard.\\nThe time will come when lump of coal\\nWill sell for more than weight of gold;\\nThe sunshine stored in earth with care\\nWe toss for naught back through the air.\\nGod labored long through ages past\\nTo store up coal that it might last,\\nAnd serve man long in day of need,\\nIf to its use he gives good heed.\\nThe sunshine that through ages gone\\nWas stored by plants for age to come,\\nIs covered up in coal in earth\\nThat it may bless man with its worth.\\nGod saw the great oncoming age,\\nWhen man fierce war with all would wage;\\nHe saw the need of mighty power,\\nThat man might over nature tower.\\nGod works for now and time to come,\\nHis plans complete through ages run;\\nLet not the men now living take\\nWhat God doth for the ages make.\\nMan lives like hog, for self to-day;\\nThe race unborn the debt will pay\\nWhen thou dost waste a lump of coal\\nThou freezest out a shivering soul.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0206.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "THE SUNSET.\\nT stood in the evening looking on high,\\nWhen the glory of God was flooding the sky;\\nThe clouds in bright troops were marching\\nalong,\\nWhile the breezes below were singing a song.\\nFar up overhead, to the east, to the west,\\nThe heavens with glory were everywhere blessed.\\nFrom the north to the south, from pole to pole,\\nThe beauty of God enchanted the soul.\\nAll the rich colors known up in Heaven,\\nTo the roving clouds most freely were given.\\nSome marching along, close to each other did\\nkeep,\\nThey seemed to be Heaven s white flocks of\\nsheep.\\nThe Lord stood behind and with infinite skill,\\nHe painted the clouds to suit His own will;\\nHe held in His hand the beams of the sun,\\nAnd as down from Heaven the colors did run,\\nWith a brush made of sunbeams which He\\nswept through the sky,\\nHe painted the clouds as they swiftly did fly.\\nTo them all He gave such beauty and splendor,\\nThat to Him fit praise each one might render.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0207.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "202 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nTo the west He fringed them with bright silver\\nand gold,\\nAnd then lower down He painted them bold\\nIn scarlet and crimson and red of all hues,\\nWhile mixed in between were the greens and\\nthe blues.\\nHe streaked in the green, the lilac spread out,\\nThe pink and the purple He scattered about.\\nThe rose and the lavender He dashed through\\nthe sky,\\nAnd they struck the clouds that were moving up\\nhigh.\\nThe indigo flew far back in the heavens,\\nTo the east and the south pink and purple were\\ndriven\\nAnd then on the clouds all the colors were\\nthrown,\\nTill the glory of God in its splendor was shown.\\nThe clouds everywhere decked with rose and\\nwith white,\\nAnd with tints so many and colors so bright,\\nThat they were on fire with God s glorious light,\\nSo they held entranced the mind and the sight.\\nThe clouds hasted rapidly onward and on,\\nThe pictures were painted and swiftly with-\\ndrawn,\\nOr dissolved from .the view into others that\\ncame,\\nSo that no two pictures were ever the same.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0208.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "THE SUNSET. 203\\nThe clouds were enchanted with their garments\\nso glorious,\\nThey seemed like angels marching victorious,\\nTo proclaim to poor mortals in mercy and love,\\nPeace and good-will from Heaven above.\\nSome flew with their hair streaming far through\\nthe sky,\\nSome with their robes trailing fastly did fly;\\nOthers seemed with each other in splendor to\\nvie,\\nAs they mounted the heavens higher and high.\\nThe portals of Heaven seemed wide open\\nthrown,\\nThat its glory and splendor might to mortals be\\nshown\\nSuch pictures of beauty on the clouds in their\\nflight,\\nDid God swiftly paint with the beams of sun-\\nlight.\\nWhen the close of life s day shall come to each\\none,\\nMay its sky be painted with the beams of God s\\nsun,\\nThat its glory and splendor in mercy may prove\\nThe gateway of Heaven which we enter through\\nlove.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0209.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "A MUTUAL UNDERSTANDEN.\\nHow did I happen to marry her?\\nThat is a question I don t like fer\\nTo answer jist here; but, if I d answer,\\nI d say Betsy asked me and I asked her.\\nI used to live near her pa, you know;\\nAnd it sometimes happened by accident, so\\nThat I was loafen round right smart\\nWhar I could see her, and that give a start.\\nAnd then in cherry-time I was hangen round\\nHer pa s house, and could often be found\\nAway up high in her pa s cherry tree,\\nFor her pa s cherries agreed with me.\\nWell, as I ll say, Betsy, my wife, she,\\nWhen I was above, loafed under the tree;\\nAnd while I eat cherries away up tall\\nIn the tree, she jist eat what I let fall.\\nAnd in this condition of matters and things,\\nIt was nat ral to talk about other things;\\nThings in genral and things in particlar some\\ntimes,\\nAnd about other things at other times.\\nAnd so we talked, and I kep crammen cherries\\nInto my mouth. I liked her pa s cherries.\\nAnd she talked, too, and crammed cherries\\nInto her mouth. She liked her pa s cherries.\\n204", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0210.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "A MUTUAL UNDER3TANDEN. 203\\nYes, we talked about several things, or more;\\nI reckon, if counted, they d be more than a\\nscore.\\nAbout the quilten to come off later at John\\nSmith s\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nSmith was a neighbor you ve heard of John\\nSmith?\\nSo we talked a little about Polly Simpkins,\\nWho I didn t like, so I called her Polly Jimpkins.\\nWe talked about the spellen school Jast winter,\\nAnd about if there d be a spellen school next\\nwinter.\\nMong other things it come nat ral to talk about,\\nWas Betsy s black cat, which did walk about,\\nAnd once and awhile went rubbin agin Betsy,\\nWhich made me think good of the cat and of\\nBetsy.\\nA black cat at sich time is very suggestive,\\nAnd will greatly aid the slow digestive\\nMachinery of your mind to come to a con-\\nclusion,\\nProvided you don t work under a delusion.\\nAnd so I come to an understanden of the case.\\nIt was easy to see that she had the same case\\nWell understood, I could tell from her look,\\nAnd she could tell from my look like a book.\\nWell, things kep a goin on from better to better,\\nAnd oftentimes, Betsy, I met her", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0211.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "206 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAt, under, or around the cherry-tree,*\\nAnd at the same time, Betsy, she met me.\\nFinally, by the help of the robins and catbirds,\\nAnd by much picken by me and the birds,\\nAnd eaten by me and Betsy all we could,\\nBetsy s pa s cherries went away, as they should.\\nThen, when Betsy s pa s cherries was all gone,\\nWhat more was by me and Betsy to be done?\\nWhen I climb down from the tree the last time\\nI stood facen Betsy, and she me, in her prime.\\nSez I, I never would ask a girl to marry me.\\nSez she, I never would ask a boy to marry me.\\nSez I, If t could be mutual-like, you see,\\nWe might, without trouble, no doubt agree.\\nSez Betsy to me, I d go half way\\nTo meet the feller I like, any day.\\nSez I to Betsy, and says Betsy to me,\\nBy mutual understanden we ll both agree.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0212.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "PRIDE.\\nThose people round there\\nFill my soul with despair.\\nWhy, Lord, you can t know\\nUnless to them you go,\\nHow dirty and bad,\\nAnd unutterably sad\\nWith clothes all in rags,\\nAnd many old hags\\nIt s even a shame\\nTo mention their name\\nAnd children in dirt\\nWith scarcely a shirt\\nIt s a burning disgrace\\nTo look at their face.\\nWhy, Lord, I ll just say,\\nThey disgrace the bright day.\\nMost vilely they swear,\\nAnd they look like despair.\\nAs to why they are here\\nIs not at all clear.\\nIt just seems to me\\nThat it would well agree\\nWith Thy great work of grace\\nIf you d just rid the face\\nOf the whole blesssd earth\\nOf all of such birth.\\n207", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0213.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "208 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nI, therefore, recommend\\nThat quickly you ll send\\nAnd them far remove\\nTo some place you approve,\\nThey offend the fair earth\\nFrom the time of their birth.\\nIn the darkness of night\\nI sat in sad plight,\\nAnd listened to hear,\\nWhen a voice sounded clear:\\nAll are made of one blood\\nAll are made of one blood\\nAll are made of one blood!\\nI then trembled and stood\\nThy brothers in need\\nIs it so, Lord, indeed?\\nFor whom Christ hath once died\\nThey re too much for my pride\\nThy brothers go feed,\\nThey are deeply in need.\\nI staggered and fell\\nAnd dreamed of dark hell.\\nThe voice sounded again,\\nAmen! and Amen!!\\nAll startled I rose\\nAnd looked for dark foes.\\nI peered in the night\\nAnd sought to make flight,\\nWhen came like a flood,\\nAll are made of one blood!", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0214.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "PRIDE.\\n209\\nAll are made of one blood\\nAll are made of one blood!\\nFor all, Christ hath once died,\\nFor all, Christ, crucified;\\nGod s children in need,\\nThy brothers go feed.\\nCount them aot at all mean,\\nNor count them unclean\\nBehind their despair\\nDwells God s image fair;\\nAmen! and Amen! I\\nAmen and Amen 1 1\\nI fell down in my pride\\nAnd through fear would have died.\\nI lay in despair\\nIn the dark midnight air,\\nWhen sounded again,\\nAmen and Amen\\nThy soul is undone,\\nThy brothers to shun.\\nWhy them now deny\\nFor whom Christ once did die?\\nWhy deem it a thing great\\nThy brothers to hate?\\nIf Christ for them died\\nWhy dost thou from them hide?\\nThy pride is thy death I\\nThy pride is thy death\\nAmen and Amen\\nAmen and Amen\\n(14)", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0215.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "210 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nI down again fell\\nAnd saw me in hell.\\nIn terror I lay\\nThrough the night and the day;\\nI fought with my pride\\nAnd unto Christ cried;\\nSaw Christ washing their feet,\\nWith them sitting at meat,\\nWhile his face then did shine\\nWith love all divine.\\nHe raised up the dead,\\nUnto me come, He said,\\nHe shed the sad tear\\nBy the poor widow s bier;\\nGave them comfort and love,\\nSpoke of Heaven above\\nGave them hope and good cheer,\\nAnd banished their fear.\\nI lay in sad plight\\nWhile God s Spirit of might\\nWas striving within\\nTo redeem me from sin.\\nDeep down a voice said,\\nArise from the dead;\\nCall not them unclean\\nWith whom Christ thou hast seen,\\nAmen, and Amen!\\nAmen, and Amen!", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0216.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "EVOLUTION OF MAN. 211\\nThy love doth constrain,\\nI cannot remain;\\nThy servant must serve\\nAnd from duty not swerve;\\nThe Master doth show\\nThe duty I owe.\\nAmen, and Amen!\\nAmen, and Amen!\\nEVOLUTION OF MAN.\\nThe atoms met in primal days,\\nAnd all agreed to work man-ways.\\nThey shouted loud, they whistled long,\\nTen million years they sang their song.\\nThe earth was bleak and knew no life,\\nThe winds and waves made mortal strife;\\nThe clouds did ever fill the sky\\nAnd poured their rain as time did fly.\\nThe earth did heave and groan and fret,\\nFor in her ways she was not set\\nThe waters rolled o er all the earth,\\nThe land had not yet had its birth.\\nAt last some land did rise above\\nBy thrust, and heave, and mighty shove,\\nAnd did in bold defiance stand\\nTo help in forming other land.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0217.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "212 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAnd then there came a sunny day,\\nWhen atoms saw to have their way;\\nThey by wise counsel plans did make,\\nWhich all agreed to undertake.\\nTheir plan was great, that man should rise\\nWith mighty soul to search the skies;\\nAnd so to work they swiftly went,\\nAnd each its finest skill e er lent.\\nHow atoms think and feel and plan,\\nDon t search too close and try to scan\\nIt s certain, though, that they did plan,\\nFor here on earth now stands their man.\\nLearn to let well enough alone,\\nThen in your spirit you ll not groan;\\nTrue, you might ask in your smart way,\\nDid atoms work full many a day\\nIn lifting man up out of clay\\nSo he could see the light of day?\\nDo atoms have small heads to think?\\nAnd do they have cute mouths to drink?\\nAll these are wonders, to be sure,\\nBut for the present pass them o er.\\nThe atoms worked with all their might,\\nThey never rested day nor night.\\nWithin their heads clear lay the plan\\nBy which they would construct their man;\\nWhile dancing in sunshine one day,\\nWith hearts right merry and full gay,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0218.jp2"}, "219": {"fulltext": "EVOLUTION OF MAN. 213\\nHave atoms hearts? I hear you say,\\nAnd in their hearts do they feel gay?\\nThey have good hearts, of course, you see,\\nElse how could they make heart for me?\\nWhile dancing fast as merry wight,\\nIn the full glare of Sol s sunlight,\\nEach caught some sunlight in his cup,\\nAnd with it went to mixing up.\\nThey mixed it with themselves, right quick,\\nUntil the mixture was quite thick,\\nSo it together well would stick,\\nAnd then it looked as if twas sick.\\nThis protoplasm yet was dead;\\nIt lacked of life a living head.\\nAnd so the atoms sang and danced,\\nIn groups they waltzed, and on they pranced.\\nThey stormed like soldiers in the fight,\\nThey kicked and yelled with all their might;\\nThey thought that sure they d make it feel,\\nAs on they flew in dizzy reel.\\nAt last all kicked it with their heel,\\nAnd then it showed that it could feel.\\nFull oft it proves a kick will bring\\nNew life to many a slumbering thing.\\nThe protoplasm wept and cried;\\nIt settled down and would have died\\nHad not the atoms in their pride\\nKept up their kicking as it cried.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0219.jp2"}, "220": {"fulltext": "214 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThis protoplasm then did hie\\nTo ocean s depths, and there did sigh;\\nThere it had naught in life to do,\\nSo it began dead cuds to chew.\\nAnd from these cuds it ever grew,\\nAnd, growing more, the more did chew;\\nThus, being placed in life s great wheel,\\nIt much did think and strong did feel.\\nTen thousand ages rolled along,\\nIt sat alone and sang its song;\\nAnd then in meditation deep,\\nIt nearer to the light did creep.\\nIt caught the sunlight from on high,\\nAnd then it wept to have an eye;\\nSo on it went in thought and deed,\\nTill atoms had an eye decreed.\\nAnd when its eye did look around,\\nIt saw the need of things profound;\\nThe eye came first, the sages say,\\nThat it might see the proper way.\\nWith eyes it saw the crying need\\nOf stomach first with which to feed.\\nAnd so its eyes did guide the way\\nTo place where stomach ought to stay.\\nThe atoms more did kick and fight,\\nAnd pushed a stomach left and right;\\nA mouth they opened for the food,\\nAnd it did act as mouth e er should.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0220.jp2"}, "221": {"fulltext": "EVOLUTION OF MAN. 215\\nAt last by dragging through the mud,\\nIts body stretched, as well it could,\\nFor mud was thick, and body long\\nWould better serve to life prolong.\\nThus protoplasm changed to worm,\\nAnd onward it did ever squirm,\\nWhile forward it did drag through mud,\\nIt ever chewed its calcic cud.\\nTen million years its brain did rack,\\nAnd then it found bone in its back;\\nFor long time it did work and brave,\\nBefore the bone the atoms gave.\\nSo on it strove to get its breath,\\nLest it should die a sudden death,\\nAnd in its striving it did find\\nGood gills to breathe, of proper kind.\\nJust on each side by folding skin,\\nIt did succeed in making fin;\\nWith fins it cleft the water fast,\\nAnd swiftly on its way it passed.\\nHe next sought kidney, liver, light;\\nThe atoms heaved with all their might,\\nUntil these things at last were made\\nOf proper shape and proper grade\\nHis heart did also find a place,\\nLest he should fail in life s swift race;\\nSo furnished with these organs strong,\\nHe swiftly rowed himself along.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0221.jp2"}, "222": {"fulltext": "216 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nWhile he did bask on wave so grand,\\nHis eyes did spy the lovely land;\\nHis heart did yearn to look it o er,\\nAnd so he landed on the shore.\\nHis fins as legs he plied with skill,\\nAnd thus he scrambled up the hill;\\nHis breath was short, for gills had he,\\nAnd yet he longed the land to see.\\nWhile gasping hard to get his breath,\\nAnd fearing sad and sudden death,\\nSome air within his gullet hung,\\nWhich puffed it out and made a lung.\\nWith lungs and liver quite complete,\\nHe still did lack the proper feet;\\nHis joints he made by breaking bones,\\nHis fins he split upon the stones.\\nThus joints and toes were quickly made,\\nOf awkward fins he long had had,\\nAnd so with lungs and legs and toes,\\nOut on the land he quickly goes.\\nHe sat around the ancient bog,\\nHe basked awhile as water-dog;\\nBut when on land he much did run,\\nHis gills were withered by the sun.\\nHe then swam round as crocodile,\\nAnd wore his broad and handsome smile;\\nAs in the sunshine more he lay,\\nHis blood grew warmer every day,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0222.jp2"}, "223": {"fulltext": "EVOLUTION OF MAN. 217\\nHis heart beat tender in his breast,\\nThat his own young might be well blessed,\\nAnd so his young to bosom pressed,\\nAnd then he felt much less distressed.\\nBy pressing young to bosom near,\\nThe milk of kindness did appear,\\nWhich, flowing out so near the young,\\nIt lapped up quickly with its tongue.\\nIt pressed its mouth to mother s breast,\\nAnd in this way it well did rest;\\nIts heart did ever warmer grow,\\nThe more the milk did form and flow.\\nFor hairs the winds did split each scale,\\nThey also blew away some tail,\\nAnd then a mammal he was fair,\\nWhich crept about with glossy hair.\\nHis kindred soon he left in lurch,\\nWhile onward he did go in search;\\nTen million years he slow did creep\\nAmong the shrubs on hillside steep.\\nHe caught queer birds so sweet and good,\\nWhich atoms made him for his food;\\nHe carried young within his pouch,\\nWhile on the ground he low did crouch.\\nHe learned to leave his young at home,\\nFor better thus he wide could roam,\\nAnd while he traveled one fine day,\\nHis ugly pouch he threw away.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0223.jp2"}, "224": {"fulltext": "218 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThus possum into dog did grow,\\nAnd dog did faster onward go\\nHe stood quite high upon his feet,\\nIn every way he looked more neat.\\nBut dog did loudly bark and bite,\\nAnd every day he much did fight;\\nHe grew in numbers more than good,\\nSo they oft lacked for proper food.\\nWhile he was looking round on high,\\nHe many good fat birds did spy,\\nAnd so he took to climbing trees;\\nThat he might learn to climb with ease,\\nHe beat his toes upon the stones,\\nThat he might flatten out their bones;\\nHe pulled his toes both hard and strong,\\nThat he might make them fingers long.\\nAnd thus by working long and grand\\nHe changed his foot into a hand,\\nHe then did swiftly climb the trees\\nAnd bare his brow to blowing breeze.\\nHe sat up high among the limbs\\nAnd almost took to singing hymns;\\nHe then was monkey, as you see,\\nAnd it did with him well agree.\\nBut as a well-bred monkey would\\nHe took to thought, as well he should,\\nBy sitting on his tail in thought,\\nThat member soon did come to naught.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0224.jp2"}, "225": {"fulltext": "EVOLUTION OF MAN. 219\\nA fine gorilla then was he\\nAs ever hugged a growing tree;\\nHis mind did more and more aspire,\\nAs he did climb up high and higher.\\nHe looked on all the world around\\nAnd gave his mind to things profound;\\nHe learned how more to kill and steal,\\nAnd this in name of common weal.\\nHe learned to wash his hands and face,\\nAnd then, at table, to say grace;\\nHe learned to take all things for self,\\nAnd think the world was made for pelf.\\nHe learned to brush and comb his hair,\\nAnd with his learning, learned to swear;\\nAnd then at ladies he did stare,\\nWhile in his heart he felt despair.\\nHe also made from cursed still,\\nStuff which he drank as hog drinks swill,\\nHe then did loudly laugh and joke\\nAnd mixed it up with nasty smoke.\\nWith these attainments all his own,\\nHe had become a man full grown,\\nWho, to maintain his mortal life,\\nDid e er engage in mortal strife.\\nAnd then some men did push beyond\\nUntil a God they thought they d found,\\nThey dreamed they saw a future life\\nBeyond this world of deadly strife.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0225.jp2"}, "226": {"fulltext": "220 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThus I have shown how man did grow.\\nAs on the ages long did flow\\nThe atoms did the work complete,\\nMixed up with sunshine for its heat.\\nThey never suffered one defeat\\nThey never beat e en one retreat;\\nThey did their work with perfect skill,\\nSo nothing could defeat their will.\\nThey pushed right up from self to man,\\nWho could all things with wisdom scan;\\nThey built his body, made his mind,\\nAnd did all things of every kind.\\nHow atoms did man s mind evolve\\nIs not right easy now to solve,\\nBut that they made it is quite clear,\\nFor sure it is that mind is here.\\nIn trying this great thing to scan\\nI do the very best I can;\\nAtoms are queer, small things you know,\\nAnd never do they larger grow.\\nIf life they have, then life they give;\\nIf thought they have, then they do live.\\nWhat they have not, they cannot give,\\nAnd what they give, man may receive.\\nWe now into deep business go\\nAnd see great minds from atoms flow;\\nNaught can the atoms do but dance,\\nIn moving round they sometimes prance.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0226.jp2"}, "227": {"fulltext": "EVOLUTION OF MAN. 221\\nFor powers of mind they dance to tunes\\nWhich they have learned from their bassoons.\\nEach mental power is one queer dance\\nTo which they join peculiar prance.\\nFor memory they in circles run,\\nAnd thus this wondrous power is spun;\\nFor reason they in piles do jump\\nAnd all keep up a mighty thump.\\nFor love they hop a sweet old tune\\nThat sounds just like good Bonnie Doon;\\nFor power which makes some people spooney\\nThey skip to tune of Annie Kooney.\\nFor that which makes us quit to roam\\nThey dance The Old Kentucky Home;\\nFor power which makes us love to fight\\nThey bump each other left and right.\\nTo form a conscience they do take\\nBut, hold, a conscience is mistake,\\nAnd so they dance to tune of fake\\nUntil their hearts they almost break.\\nThus I might name each mental power\\nAnd spin this out by weary hour.\\nBut why dwell on such simple thing\\nWhen atoms every thing do bring?\\nThey carry all in their small head;\\nThey raise the living from the dead;\\nThey turn the living back to dead\\nOf all that is they are the head.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0227.jp2"}, "228": {"fulltext": "222 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAs onward in their course they stride,\\nThey work by evolution wide;\\nThis sacred word they always claim,\\nBy which to celebrate their fame.\\nThis word doth oil all things like grease,\\nIt doth the canniest mind e er fleece,\\nAt its most sacred, mighty call,\\nAll worlds do rise and then do fall.\\nThe atoms are the gods indeed,\\nWhile evolution marks their speed,\\nAnd so we quickly form our creed\\nSince we are pushed to every deed.\\nThus by this plan we need no God\\nExcept the earth on which we trod,\\nAnd so when we return to clod\\nWe are absorbed back into God.\\nLIVINGSTONE.\\nf~\\\\N the banks of the Molilamo,\\nIn the village of the Chilambo,\\nIn dark Afric s midnight darkness,\\nPassed a light that shines forever,\\nTo the presence of the Giver.\\nWith a candle burning slowly,\\nAnd life s taper burning lowly,\\nIn a hut upon his knees,\\nPassed a life that lives forever,\\nTo the presence of the Giver.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0228.jp2"}, "229": {"fulltext": "LIVINGSTONE. 223\\nFrom his wanderings long and lonely,\\nLed by faith e er strong and holy,\\nFilled with love of God and man,\\nOn his knees in darkest night,\\nPassed his spirit into light.\\nNaught could turn him back from duty,\\nHis was life of strength and beauty,\\nHolding forth the word of life.\\nNever once his course did alter,\\nNever once his faith did falter.\\nPressing on through swamp and forest,\\nNever did he cease his inquest\\nFreedom for those bound in darkness.\\nFervent rose his heart in prayer,\\nBorne aloft through midnight air.\\nTo his soul all truth was beauty,\\nAnd each truth called loud to duty\\nThat in love must be performed.\\nStill he felt his work unfinished,\\nE en when death his body vanquished.\\nOn the banks of the great Congo,\\nOr surrounded by Wagogo,\\nPoured he forth the word of life.\\nAnd the truth shone brighter never,\\nThan as lived by God s own giver.\\nBrave and faithful, persevering,\\nThousand foes, but never fearing,\\nPressed he forward in God s might,", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0229.jp2"}, "230": {"fulltext": "224 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nTill the great release from duty\\nUshered out his life in beauty.\\nHis great light shall shine forever\\nTo the praise of God, the Giver,\\nTo the glory of God s world\\nMen shall rise and see the shining,\\nSee the light that s all-refining.\\nGod s own heroes never fall,\\nGrow they never weak nor small\\nStronger grow they through the ages,\\nGreater ever than they seem,\\nHelping God his world redeem.\\nPlaced on mountain summits high,\\nGod s great heroes never die\\nThere they shine forever bright,\\nThere they fight for all the ages,\\nMaking truth for history s pages.\\nOn the banks of the Molilamo,\\nIn the village of Chilambo,\\nIn dark Afric s midnight darkness,\\nPassed a light that shines forever,\\nTo the presence of the Giver.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0230.jp2"}, "231": {"fulltext": "A DREAM.\\nT^he moon shone bright o er the silver stream,\\n1 While I floated on wrapped in a dream.\\nLike a graceful swan my bark moved along,\\nFar away from the haunts of the rushing throng.\\nThe hills stood frowning on either hand,\\nDark woods stretched far over all the land\\nBold rocks rose high from the river s side,\\nAnd black were the caves where the goblins\\nhide.\\nA thousand miles from the haunts of men,\\nOn the silver stream, through the darkening\\nglen,\\nI floated on in the wilderness,\\nFor a port beyond which I could not guess.\\nA deathlike silence was reigning supreme,\\nSave the rippling waves of the silver stream,\\nOr the stillness was broken by the owl hooting\\nloud\\nThrough the dark, unbroken, lonesome wood.\\nAll nature seemed to be given to me,\\nBut sadly I floated in misery,\\nBecause all alone in the wilderness\\nThe wonders of nature could not bless.\\nI awoke from my dream in the slumber of night,\\nWhen the moon poured down her silvery light,\\nAnd found that I did not far away roam,\\nAnd I praised the Lord for the blessings of\\nhome.\\n(15) 225", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0231.jp2"}, "232": {"fulltext": "WINTER.\\n17 rapped in her winding sheet of spotless snow,.\\nThe world lay pulseless in cold winter s\\narms.\\nHis icy breath had sealed the founts of life;\\nThe frost-god reveled in the halls of death.\\nThe trees stood hopeless in their nakedness\\nAnd moaned and shrieked before the winter s\\nblast,\\nTheir hearts were icy to their inmost core.\\nNo voice of song was heard in all the land;\\nThe hearts of melody and tongues that sang\\nIn summer past were in a fairer clime.\\nNo creeping thing went forth upon the earth\\nTo break the reign of all-prevailing death.\\nFar-sweeping o er the bleak and distant land\\nThe frigid North wind drove the glittering snow\\nAnd smoothed it on the bosom of the earth.\\nSPEING.\\nOpring blew her breath from out the Sunny\\nSouth,\\nThe frost-god bowed and northward fastly\\nmarched,\\nThe seals of ice which he had placed upon\\nAll living lips released their deadly hold.\\nShe touched with gentle finger tips the hearts\\nOf all the silent hosts that slumbered in\\n226", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0232.jp2"}, "233": {"fulltext": "SPRING. 227\\nThe fertile soil, and sent life s currents strong\\nAnd swift through waiting seed and bulb and\\nroot,\\nTill soon they forced their tender shoots up\\nthrough\\nThe soil to meet the coaxing light of sun\\nThat freely gives life to each living thing\\nAnd asks but growth for blessing in return.\\nEarth s ghostly winding sheet of snow cast off,\\nShe decked herself in nature s royal green,\\nThe tint which best proclaims the reign of life.\\nA living emerald sea prevailed afar,\\nWhich through its myriad mouths of struggling\\nplants\\nDrank life poured down in sunshine from the\\nsky.\\nThe balmy air of perfect morn of May\\nIs laden far with gracious incense from\\nThe acacia s drooping fragrant flowers.\\nThe hum of busy bees is heard among\\nThe nectar-bearing flowers, whose coming they\\nHave waited through the winter s dreary months.\\nThe daffodils lift up their golden crowns\\nAbove the grass as earliest heralds of,\\nThe coming spring, with perfumed air and song,\\nOf happy birds and beauteous flowers that speak\\nThe promise of the ripening, blushing fruits.\\nIn countless, throng amid the tender grass,\\nClaytonias open wide their roseate throats.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0233.jp2"}, "234": {"fulltext": "228 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nThe robin with her matin song awakes\\nThe morn and greets the coming day with joy\\nAnd thankful praise. In hope she builds her\\nnest\\nOf mud and twigs within a sheltering tree,\\nAnd lines it soft and warm for helpless young.\\nThe cattle graze in peace upon the green\\nAnd tender grass, or lie within the shade\\nIn lazy mood and chew their cuds and drowse,\\nContent with food sufficient for the day.\\nGreen earth and balmy air and radiant sky,\\nThe song of birds and life that floods the world,\\nAll speak the praise of Him who sendeth spring.\\nAt eve the distant frogs in devilish glee\\nCroak loud their discords from their spacious\\nthroats.\\nTbeir revelry within the bogs makes sport of\\npeace\\nAnd counts as naught all nature s harmonies.\\nProud of their croaking deviltry, they shout\\nTheir hoarseness in the ears of night and drive\\nThe threatening bogles to their hiding place.\\nSafe in the bogs they hide their ugly shapes\\nBy day, and then creep forth and croak secure\\nBeneath the sheltering mantle of the night.\\nWithin their boggy realm they reign supreme\\nAnd torture friend and foe in vain belief\\nThat croaking drives apace the wheels of time.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0234.jp2"}, "235": {"fulltext": "FROM FAR AWAY.\\nThe west-wind blew at eventide,\\nBut it knew not why it blew\\nThe oak tree grew in the sunlight s tide,\\nBut it knew not why it grew\\nThe blowing and growing are from far away,\\nThey land on earth s shores in the light of day.\\nThe fountain flowed from the rocky hill,\\nBut it did not will to flow;\\nThe moon shone down through the twilight still,\\nBut its shining it could not know\\nThe shining and flowing are from far away,\\nThey are sent by the Hand that ruleth the day^\\nThe cricket chirped to its dusky mate,\\nBecause a cricket must call\\nThe cat-bird sang in the evening late,\\nWhen the dew began to fall;\\nBut the chirp and the song are from far away,\\nThey flow from the song that filleth all day.\\nThe infant smiled in its mother s arms,\\nBut it knew not why it smiled;\\nThe maiden blushed at her own charms,\\nAnd her lover s heart beguiled;\\nBut the smile and the blush are from far away,\\nThey speed to the earth on the wings of day.\\nThe strong man bent beneath his weight,\\nHe willed his burden to bear;\\nThe wise man tempered his life to fate,\\n229", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0235.jp2"}, "236": {"fulltext": "230 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nAnd sought his wisdom to share;\\nBut the strong and the wise are from far away,\\nThey land on the earth for one brief day.\\nAs the floods flow in from the outer seas,\\nAnd the breezes blow from the mountains,\\nAll life floats in upon God s own breeze,\\nAs it flows from the heavenly fountains;\\nThe streams of life flow from far away\\nThey flow from the springs of eternal day.\\nI WOULD KNOW.\\nT would draw near to Nature s soul\\nAnd see with searching heart\\nWhat sits behind the outward veil\\nWhich never can depart.\\nAll mortal sense is dull and poor,\\nAll vision dim and weak,\\nAnd sure it is I feel and know\\nWhat words can never speak.\\nThe unseen sits behind the veil\\nBut still I know it s there;\\nIt baffles every searching sense\\nAnd drives each to despair.\\nAnd yet when sense is put to shame\\nI come again and seek,\\nI strive with all my powers of soul\\nAnd would with Nature speak.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0236.jp2"}, "237": {"fulltext": "man s power. 231\\nI would the truth exactly know,\\nI d hear thy throbbing heart,\\nI d feel thy pulse and see thy mind\\nE er I from thee depart.\\nThrow off thy mask and let me see\\nThy cunning power and skill,\\nThat I may see the fingers fair\\nThat work to do thy will.\\nI d see the secret springs of life\\nWound up by unseen hand,\\nI d see the hand that pushes all\\nAnd maketh all to stand.\\nI d know the very why and how,\\nI d see the shining path,\\nWherein thy feet forever walk\\nAway from endless death.\\nMAN S POWER.\\nThe star will shine,\\nThe wind will blow,\\nThe ox will dine,\\nThe grass will grow.\\nThe stars are blazing in the sky,\\nThe wind is whistling mong the trees,\\nThe ox is browsing in the field,\\nThe grass grows green fanned by the breeze.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0237.jp2"}, "238": {"fulltext": "232 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nBut star and grass and ox and wind\\nCan no decree of fate rescind\\nEach moves beneath the unseen hand\\nThat shapes all things in every land.\\nMan s soul on earth is upward power\\nThat gives to nature higher dower\\nThat lifts what falls to high estate\\nAnd makes the feeble strong and great.\\nMan s power flows in from heights above\\nPressed on him by eternal love,\\nThe upward power which he doth lend\\nIs that which God himself doth send.\\nHELPLESSNESS.\\nA gull was borne far away seaward\\nOn the wings of a storm that prevailed,\\nRight bravely it battled the storm-wind\\nAs in its mad fury it sailed.\\nAt last in its flight it grew helpless,\\nThe wind had defeated its wings,\\nAnd downward it fell on the ocean\\nWhich reaps what the hurricane brings.\\nAll heartless and weary it floated,\\nIt was tossed by the furious waves,\\nTill the heart of the storm-god was sated\\nWhen he closed up his newly-made graves.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0238.jp2"}, "239": {"fulltext": "HELPLESSNESS. 233\\nThen shone out the sun in his splendor,\\nAnd glassy became the wild sea,\\nBut the gull sat in helplessness on it\\nAwaiting great fate s last decree.\\nShe had hopelessly lost her bearings,\\nHer strength she had spent all in vain,\\nShe never could sail again landward,\\nAnd naught could she do but remain.\\nA ship came past in her sailing\\nAnd rescued the gull from the deep\\nAnd carried her back again homeward\\nAn omen which sailors will keep.\\nThe fierce storms of sin force hellward\\nThe souls that wander on earth;\\nThe cyclones around man are raging,\\nAnd wars rage within from his birth.\\nAway he is borne from his moorings,\\nDark clouds rush wildly on high,\\nTill at last he is driven by their fury\\nFar out in the darkness to die.\\nAll helpless he sits in the darkness,\\nAnd waits for sin s fury to cease,\\nBut its storms come faster and darker\\nAnd ever in madness increase.\\nHe cries in his helpless endeavor\\nTo the God who ruleth on high,\\nAnd soon the dark clouds are back driven\\nAnd a light is seen flooding the sky.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0239.jp2"}, "240": {"fulltext": "THE LOCOMOTIVE.\\nJ\\\\ A an has pushed his great dominion,\\nTill he holds within his grasp\\nAll the things of God s creation,\\nUntil they can scarcely gasp.\\nSee the engine roaring, straining,\\nPuffing, pushing with his might,\\nRushing wildly through the tunnels,\\nFlashing forth his glowing light;\\nDashing madly through the darkness,\\nClimbing round the mountain s side,\\nThreading now the trembling bridges,\\nWhere you hold your breath to ride.\\nHear his screech and sizz and rumble,\\nAs with might he goes his way,\\nPuffing, belching, groaning, grunting,\\nThus preventing all delay.\\nSurely man has chained the fire-horse.\\nSee him champing at his bit,\\nBlowing breath of fiery madness\\nAs his hoofs more wildly hit.\\nNow he pushes madly forward,\\nLevels down across the plain,\\nWhile the hand that boldly guides him,\\nHolds a strong and steady rein.\\nOn he goes with untamed spirit,\\nDashing into darkest night,\\n234", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0240.jp2"}, "241": {"fulltext": "THE LOCOMOTIVE. 235\\nBlowing out his fiery terror,\\nAs black devil in his flight.\\nThen he sounds his note of warning\\nThat no flesh before him stand,\\nRolling on with mighty thunder,\\nThat is heard in all the land.\\nNow he halts at man s own bidding,\\nAnd they feed him fire and flame,\\nThen they swiftly give him water,\\nAnd he rushes on again.\\nO ye powers of outer darkness,\\nDraw ye near in darkest night;\\nSee the lightnings from him flashing,\\nAs he rushes in his might.\\nNow he sends his awful challenge\\nTo the powers of inky night,\\nRoars as lion through the darkness,\\nThat all flesh may take its flight.\\nThen he loudly bids defiance\\nTo the wind and raging storm,\\nSwiftly driving all resistance,\\nSaving human life from harm.\\nLaughs he at the powers around him,\\nSpurns the earth beneath his feet;\\nPants he like a fiery demon,\\nAs they feed him flame and heat.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0241.jp2"}, "242": {"fulltext": "236 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nO ye powers come watch his going,\\nStand aside and see him pass\\nHe s the mighty son of thunder,\\nMade of strongest steel and brass.\\nEvery joint s in working order,\\nEvery screw and bolt in place;\\nTruly rush the mighty pistons,\\nAs he runs his headlong race.\\nHear his burning heart s wild throbbings,\\nSee the panting demon rush;\\nHear his hoofs go madly dashing,\\nAnd the earth beneath them crush.\\nOnward speeds he o er the prairies,\\nWinds along the river s brink,\\nRoars he through the mountain tunnels,\\nWhile men feed him flame and drink.\\nWell he knows the hand that guides him,\\nQuick he answers to the rein,\\nNow he quickly slows his footsteps,\\nThen he dashes on amain.\\nHe has learned the precious burden\\nThat he carries in his wake,\\nAnd he fights with demon madness\\nFor that precious burden s sake.\\nYonder stands the distant city\\nThat he views across the plain,\\nAnd to reach it by the night-fall,\\nHe must have a driving rein.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0242.jp2"}, "243": {"fulltext": "THE LOCOMOTIVE. 237\\nHear him snorting as he rushes\\nThrough the clear and cutting air,\\nSetting air to wildly singing\\nWith a song of sharp despair.\\nHe will run at man s own bidding\\nTill he has no running breath;\\nHe will fly forever swifter\\nTill flight ends in his own death.\\nThou art man s embodied greatness,\\nPride and strength of our own age;\\nWise in all thy wondrous working,\\nNever dreamed by ancient sage.\\nMore than power of living being,\\nAll the conscience of mankind,\\nAll the skill of human genius\\nAre in thee at once combined.\\nMighty monster of the ages,\\nCome to bless the human race,\\nWe now worship thee with gladness\\nAnd we count thee in God s grace.\\nBut what of the engine s driver\\nWho holds the steady rein?\\nWho guides him at his pleasure\\nAs he goes with might and main?\\nHe s a man of iron courage,\\nPossessed of diamond grit,\\nWhose nerves are made of toughest steel,\\nWhose mind has ready wit.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0243.jp2"}, "244": {"fulltext": "238 MY GOOD POEMS.\\nHe is cool and steady-handed,\\nHe has strong and level head,\\nAnd he knows full well his calling\\nMay soon land him with the dead.\\nHe is standing at the throttle,\\nHis eye looks straight ahead,\\nSharply searching for the danger\\nThat may land you with the dead.\\nI hail thee, wondrous man of God,\\nI kiss thy sacred hand\\nThat guides the mighty fire-horse\\nWhich speeds me through the land.\\nI praise thy god-like courage\\nWhich causes thee to give\\nAt thy post of sacred duty\\nThy own life that others live.\\nI see thee stand like granite\\nIn the deadly rushing race,\\nFacing death with awful grandeur,\\nSwiftly falling in thy place.\\nThou art God s own trusty savior,\\nHelping to redeem mankind,\\nDoing noblest deed unselfish,\\nLifting up the human mind.\\nAnd now to man and engine\\nIn sacred union wed,\\nTo greatest deeds of daring,\\nEach by the other led.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0244.jp2"}, "245": {"fulltext": "THE LOCOMOTIVE. 239\\nI stand in awe and watch you\\nAs you speed with flying pace,\\nAnd I tremble as you pass me\\nOn your well-timed fearful race.\\nI see the freight you carry,\\nWell I know the hearts that beat,\\nFor the homes beyond the mountains,\\nHoping there loved ones to meet.\\nAnd my prayer goes up for engine\\nAnd it flies for the engineer,\\nWhile it calls on gracious Heaven\\nTo protect the freight that s dear.\\nEngineer and throbbing engine\\nMove together as one will,\\nDeep they fill my soul with wonder\\nAnd my heart forever thrill.\\nAEISE.\\nA rise, awake from thy slumber,\\nThe night is far spent, the day is at hand,\\nArise, and hasten thy going,\\nDelay not, go quickly, and with the Lord stand.\\nThe Lord is now calling to duty,\\nRise quickly, awake, and thy armor put on\\nThe battle s now raging with fury,\\nHe is calling thee loudly to duty, be gone.\\nAway from the scenes of thy slumber,\\nRush on to God s battle-field, rush, O rush!\\nThe foes are now pressing most fiercely,\\nAdd speed to thy marching, yes push, O push!\\nWho knows what the battle shall bring forth?\\nWhether righteous or wicked shall fall, who\\nknows?\\nGod grant that in battle may perish\\nNot the righteous, but wicked, thy foes, yes,\\nthy foes.", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0245.jp2"}, "246": {"fulltext": "WHAT AND WHENCE OUK THOUGHTS?\\nQhall our souls move on forever\\nIn the dark and vain endeavor\\nTo grasp the flitting phantoms\\nThat flee before the mind\\nAs the ever-shifting wind?\\nAre the visions bright, ecstatic,\\nOnly shifting dreams erratic,\\nBlown about on winds of chaos\\nThrough the fields of mortal vision\\nLaughing at us in derision?\\nWhence the stream that s onward going\\nOf our thoughts forever flowing\\nForcing all before their might?\\nDumb we sit and watch the flowing\\nTill we feel our souls undoing.\\nWhat the stream that flows not backward\\nBut forever floweth forward?\\nIs it substance or but shadow?\\nWhat the visions great and splendid\\nThat by angels seem attended?\\nNow we look and feel and wonder,\\nAnd on all we darkly ponder\\nWondering how our wonder comes\\nPondering o er the thoughts that meet us,\\nTill at last comes our quietus.\\n240", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0246.jp2"}, "247": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0247.jp2"}, "248": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0248.jp2"}, "249": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0249.jp2"}, "250": {"fulltext": "1900", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0250.jp2"}, "251": {"fulltext": "", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0251.jp2"}, "252": {"fulltext": "it L\\ni\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0HHHP\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a01\\nu\\niwiiiii", "height": "2907", "width": "1835", "jp2-path": "mygoodpoems00fair_0252.jp2"}}