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Keep Plodding
Poet: David V. Bush
If you think you're "down and out,"
Keep plodding.
If today you're on the rout,
Keep plodding.
Other days are coming yet
When you'll win, that you can bet.
Frequently 'tis best to sweat
By plodding.
If you've tried and if you've failed,
Keep plodding.
Other heroes who've been hailed
Kept plodding.
Other men saw all was lost,
On misfortune's billows tossed;
Yea, they too have paid the cost
By plodding.
If your ship has not come in,
Keep plodding.
For some time you're bound to win
By plodding.
Every ship must meet the gale;
Every effort, every sail.
Must be used if we prevail -
Keep plodding.
If your own's not come to you,
Keep plodding.
You'll succeed, if you but knew,
By plodding.
Just across the roughest street
There success you'll surely meet -
You your efforts will complete
By plodding. -
If
Poet: David V. Bush
How many a man has wrecked his skiff
Upon that little measly IF!
If I my precious youthful hours
In study close had spent;
If I had trained my latent powers;
I should not now repent.
If I had learned to save my cash,
Instead of spending all
In pleasures vain and ventures rash,
My "roll" would be less small.
If I had done the other thing.
Instead of what I did;
If I had fled from folly's sting,
From smiling vice had hid;
If I had shunned the social glass,
And clung to honest work;
Today I might be rich, alas!
Not slaving like a Turk.
Ah, yes; if you had done but that,
And not the other thing;
Today your purse would not be flat;
You might live like a king.
"IF" ranks with "but", "perhaps"' and "can*t",
To cow the feeble soul;
For shame! Forget this coward rant;
Press boldly toward the goal.
How many a man has wrecked his skiff
Upon that little measly IF! -
Has Christianity Failed?
Poet: David V. Bush
Christianity, say you, has failed!
Ah, friend, it has never been tried.
Though loudly we've preached and we've prayed,
I fear that we often have lied.
We vowed that like God we would give
Our love both to friends and to foes;
But ever the deed of our lives
The words of our lips would oppose.
We claimed to be Christians indeed;
But little we lived of the truth.
Though Christian in name, in our lives
We seemed more like heathen, forsooth.
The spirit of Christ we have lost;
And little our words have availed.
We flout Him in plan and in act,
And then say 'tis Christ who has failed.
Why say that Christ's teachings have failed,
When none of them yet has been tried?
How dare we the Master reproach,
When we've put His doctrine aside?
When Christ is our guide, and our creed
Is service to God and to man,
No horror like war can arise.
To thwart His beneficent plan.
'Tis we who have failed to apply
The lesson of Calvary's cross.
We've spurned the pure gold of His Word,
And counted His teaching but dross.
It is not the Christ who has failed;
For His is the one perfect way.
'Tis error and pride in our hearts
Which lead us so often astray.
When Christ is the Master of earth,
And holds in our hearts the first place,
As true Prince of Peace He will reign,
And war-thoughts forever efface.
So blame not this holiest Guide,
That men have distorted His creed;
But strive that the day may arrive
When all men His teaching shall heed. -
You Can't Always Hit The Bull's-Eye
Poet David V. Bush
No man can hit the bull's-eye
Full ten times out of ten;
The one who is the best shot
Will miss it now and then.
The same old gun, though faithful,
Not always rings the bell.
And why it didn't do it
The owner ne'er can tell.
And so in life the best man
Will miss a shot or two.
But though he err a moment
That does not mean he's through;
For with a sportsman's spirit
Again he takes an aim,
And ere the powder's vanished
He's brought down his big game.
In life, then be a sportsman.
And if by chance today
You miss the gleaming target.
Hold firm your nerve and pray;
Again brace gun and shoulder
And at the target fire,
For yet you'll hit the bull's-eye
Though now your luck seems dire.
Some men to be a crack shot
Almost a lifetime spend,
And through their faithful practice
Are victors in the end.
The game of life is bigger,
But if you practice well
Some day in joy and triumph
At last you'll ring the bell!
The target of your lifetime
Is looming just ahead.
So keep your rifle ready
No matter what is said.
Fail not to do your firing
With steady nerve and aim;
And when you pull your trigger,
Bang! Down will come YOUR game! -
The Man With Faith
Poet: David V. Bush
The man who has faith that his plans will yet carry
Despite all adverses and sorrow
Is the man who will win thru thick and thru thin
Though broke and often must borrow.
The man who has faith in his help and his neighbor
And lends then a hand when they need it,
Will have many friends - for joy so depends -
The wise man will learn this and heed it.
So the man who has faith in humanity's make up
Himself seeks little leisure
The faith in a power for every new hour
Shall succeed with joy beyond measure. -
How To Have Friends
Poet: David V. Bush
And would you have a host of friends,
On land or on the sea?
Then look that you remember well
That YOU a friend must be.
And would you have the greatest joy
That heaven to man can send?
Go, take your neighbor by the hand.
And say, 'I am your friend." -
Let Me Be Kind
Poet: David V. Bush
I pray for things I could not use;
I pray for things I do not need:
One prayer there is I often make -
I pray and fail sometimes to heed.
I pray, “O God do make me kind:'’
The world needs kindness much, my sire:
I pray I might be kind, and then
I fail to be what I desire.
To friends around I should be kind;
To those who blame and know me not
And do me wrong, I pray for them,
I pray, and soon that prayer’s forgot.
O make me kind to man and beast;
To stranger, babe and hairs of grey:
O may I not by word or deed
Be aught but kind to all, I pray.
O make me kind when I forget,
O make me kind I pray today,
Yea, make me kind, O God of love,
Teach me the noble art, I pray.
O make me kind to friend and foe,
To all I know and meet and see:
The world cries out for this I know,
O teach Thy kindness, Lord, to me.
If you have done me wrong today,
I should forget and kindness be:
To friend and foe, my heart cries out,
I would be kind, yea kind to thee. -
Success Will Come
Poet: David V. Bush
The man who will steer through the thickest of storms,
And sail for his goal never daunted,
Will triumph at last o'er each perilous blast
That the gods of ill-fortune have flaunted.
The man who unyielding will hew to the line
When the shadows of hopelessness hover,
Will find that each blow leads him out of his woe,
*Til the trials and worries are over.
The man who hoes corn while his neighbor's asleep.
And digs in the field without ceasing,
May suffer a while, but will finally smile
As his harvest swells rich and increasing.
The man who stays game while the multitude quit.
And courage with helpfulness mellows;
Is the chap who will lead when the others stampede,
And win honors and bays from his fellows. -
For You Are Mine, Mine, Mine!
Poet: David V. Bush
Our lives were for each other made,
I feel it in my heart;
Nor could I live in sun or shade
From your dear side apart.
God surely linked our kindred lives
With tenderness divine.
And endlessly that link survives,
For you are mine, mine, mine!
And when the Fates our paths divide
Across the sea or land.
We still, by love's soft cord allied,
Seem wand' ring hand in hand.
Of many strands our cord is wrought.
That like pure silver shine;
They bind us heart and soul and thought,
For you are mine, mine, mine!
Your roseate cheeks my heart enchain,
Your smiles enchant my soul;
Your winsome eyes a power maintain
To keep my spirit whole;
Your lily hands and auburn hair
Are e'er to me a shrine.
And naught our love apart can tear,
For you are mine, mine, mine!
But more than flesh us two unites,
And makes our spirits one;
A higher flame our union lights,
That e'en outshines the sun.
Each to the other, gladly we
Our souls and lives assign;
Your very fibre cleaves to me,
For you are mine, mine, mine! -
What's Your Aim
Poet: David V. Bush
If you have missed the cherished goal
That you have sought for years,
Try something less beyond your soul,
And waste no time in tears.
Without a zeal for greater things
The less might never be.
So let your fancy use its wings.
And let your mind soar free.
The world's best shots don't always hit
The marks at which they aim.
And when they miss they scorn to quit,
But seek a lesser fame.
The trials that have gone before
Give practice, skill, and strength;
So quick they seize their guns once more,
And shoot at shorter length.
You do not have to hit each time
The target that you set.
But from each failure you must climb,
And new ambitions get.
Let no mishap your courage drain,
Or forward progress halt;
To fail need give no conscience pain -
For aiming low's the fault!
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