Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
I'll teach thee a lesson:
Be active and wise;
The deeper the valley,
The brighter the skies;
The harder the labor,
More weary the breast,
The sweeter the slumber
When the pillow is pressed.
When the fierce storm approaches,
Unbend to the blast;
Unyielding, look upward,
Till the whirlwind has passed:
The firm and unshaken,
Who never despair,
The seal of true greatness
Forever shall wear.
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
Why should you be dull and sad?
Nothing can be half so bad,
We'll engage.
All is cheerful, if you look
Rightly into Nature's book,
On each page.
Sighing, weeping, trembling who,
When you make such loud ado,
Will come near?
Peace and joy you drive away,
All that tend to make life gay,
And you cheer.
It is folly, don't you know,
Thus to sink in pools of woe,
And to weep
Now's the time to live and act;
Not the rust of grief contract,
While you sleep.
From the shadows and the mire.
Up! and let the living fire
Of ambition
Glory on your actions cast;
And, for all the guilty past,
Show contrition.
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
When friends forsake, and health decays,
And clouds of sorrow gather fast,
How sweet to lift the heart in praise
To Him who loves us to the last!
When grief o'erwhelms the heart, and fear,
Like hateful spectre, dark and grim,
To shroud our pleasure hovers near,
How sweet to look in faith to Him!
In every lone, uncertain way,
Amid the cares that checker life,
How sweet to look above, and pray
For strength to bear us through the strife!
In life or death, where'er we be,
With friends at home, or foes abroad,
With humble heart and bended knee,
Communion will be sweet with God.
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
How pleasant is the slumbering vale,
Where winds are blowing free,
And gifts of Nature never fail!
Oh, such a home for me!
There songs of birds delight the ear,
And flowers rejoice the eye,
And beauty lingers all the year
On water, field and sky.
Such home be mine, among the hills,
The giant forest-trees,
Where leap along the flashing rills,
And fragrant is the breeze;
Where voice profane and boisterous song
Will never taint the air;
And few are taught to practise wrong,
Or breathe a selfish prayer.
To city life I bid adieu;
Its crowded mart, farewell!
With rural scenes, forever new,
My spirit longs to dwell.
Sweet, oh, how sweet! at morn and eve,
To cast the eye abroad;
Pure truths from Nature's voice receive,
And humbly worship God.
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
If but a single thought I drop
Into a drowsy ear,
It may revive the spark of hope,
And the desponding cheer.
A word may save where volumes fail,
If spoken from the heart;
And with the dying soul prevail,
And life and strength impart.
Ye all can speak a gentle word,
To bless the weak and low;
And o'er life's dark and thorny road
Sweet flowers and sunshine throw.
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
Stand up, brother! here's the hand
That will help thee rise and stand;
Here's the heart that warmly burns
When a prodigal returns.
Stand up, brother!
For a friend thy spirit yearns.
Stand up, brother! stand upright!
Let the scales fall, see the light;
And no longer in the dust
Let thy mind be clogged with rust.
Stand up, brother!
And the galling fetters burst.
Stand up, brother! fear no ill;
We will love, protect thee still:
When the night of darkness lowers:
In the tempest's strongest hours.
Stand up, brother!
These are warm, kind hearts of ours.
Stand up, brother! yes, thou wilt,
Though so long oppressed by guilt:
On thy brow we gladly read,
"You have been my friends indeed"
Stand up, brother!
We are just the friends you need.
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
What is existence, but to give
Our influence to a righteous cause?
To bless the world, and thus receive
The heart's affections, not applause?
To live is but an empty name,
Our lives a blot to truth and right,
When vicious men our deeds proclaim,
And Justice weeps at Virtue's flight.
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
Old time has taken another step,
And brought the New Year round:
We see it in the leafless trees,
And on the silver ground.
The streams that sparkled in the sun,
And joyous leaped along,
Now bear upon their glassy breast
A buoyant, happy throng.
So be it ours to live, that when
Our course is finished here,
We may to brighter worlds ascend,
Where Virtue's sons appear;
And, in the presence of our God,
Enjoy the bliss supreme,
Studying the wonders of his love
The holy angels' theme.
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
It is a little thing to give
A cup of water to the poor,
Or spare a morsel to relieve
The famished stranger at the door;
And yet these trifling favors may
Return to bless ere life shall close,
And cheer through earth's dark, devious way,
If multiplied should be our woes.
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
How few who speak a bitter word
Can tell the pang it gives!
What angry feelings it hath stirred!
What malice it revives!
Oh! let the words of kindness move
And dwell upon your lips;
For passion, far estranged from love,
Will brightest joys eclipse.
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
'Tis not the loftiest looks betray
A heart that's free from guile;
For, where the foulest passions prey,
The practised lip may smile.
The noble, generous, and the wise,
With no attractive grace,
May be commissioned from the skies,
A blessing to the race.
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
A little word sometimes has power,
If it is used aright,
To make the skies that darkly lower
Burn with a golden light.
The heart o'erburdened with distress,
In its own dismal cell,
A word will rouse to joyousness,
And gloom and fear dispel.
It lifts the poor from dust, and brings
Sweet sunshine to his home;
And spreads Hope's bright, exulting wings,
Where peace might never come.
A pleasant word, if nothing else,
Ye all have power to give:
Make glad the hearts where sorrow dwells,
And bid the dying live.
Drop pleasant words where'er ye go,
In cot or crowded mart;
And light and peace and love will glow
In many a wretched heart.
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
The glory of the mighty God,
Where'er I gaze, my eyes behold;
When Evening spreads her veil abroad,
Or morning clouds are tinged with gold.
The ocean, as it heaves and swells
Around the isles that dot the sea,
In tones as loud as thunder, tells
His awful power and majesty.
The stars that gem the glorious skies,
The solemn sentinels of light,
Speak of that God which bade them rise
To beautify the heavens by night.
The flower that smiles within the vale,
Where careless feet may never tread,
Repeats the same unvarnished tale,
And lowly bows its modest head.
The tiny songsters of the air,
Which joyous float on golden wing,
The same almighty Power declare,
And chant his praises when they sing.
The fields in verdant grandeur drest,
In all their splendor and their bloom,
In silent language praise him best,
And send to heaven their rich perfume.
But where is man? Has he no soul
To speak his Maker's glories forth,
When land and sea, and orbs that roll,
Tell of the Power that gave them birth?
Sin steels his heart, and blinds his eyes,
And makes him careless of his God,
When all that move beneath the skies
Conspire to sound his praise abroad.
Awake, man! thy dormant powers,
And let thy soul His glory sing:
Should Nature's voices rival ours
And shame the praises that we bring?
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
How greatly wise, who never move
When stern Misfortune lowers!
Who see the same kind hand of Love
In sunshine and in showers!
When shadows veil the burning sky,
Behind the clouds they know
Bright fields of golden grandeur lie,
And seas of splendor flow.
They only bend, but never break,
When angry storms arise;
Prepared the hand of Grief to take,
And wait for brighter skies.
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
What if I'm thrown upon my back?
Must I lie still and die?
Or, cringing, ask the help of those
Who heedless pass me by?
No! I will struggle, faint or sick,
Upon my feet to rise:
He is a fool who hugs the sod,
And, without effort, dies.
The active mind was never made
In sluggish fear to rest,
When dark misfortune brings us down,
And sorrow wrings the breast:
Up! nerved with strength, go forth again
To battle in the strife:
They only live who dare and do
In every phase of life.
Who are discouraged, never win
Bright Honor's golden prize;
Or reap the blessings spread before
The diligent and wise.
The fair, bright sky, the broad, green earth
Have no delights for them;
While all who pass look down with pride,
Or scornfully condemn.
So I will persevere, if I
A single limb can move;
Climb up, press on, should foes or friends
Discourage or approve.
I know beyond the rolling clouds
There is a sky serene;
And all its glories I shall view
With not a veil between.
Eternal thanks to God, who gave
A heart that will not cower,
In foul Oppression's darkest night,
Beneath the foot of Power;
A heart, that when beset around
With base, malignant foes,
Is brighter and more active found,
The stronger they oppose.
Ay, stout and iron heart, go on!
And never shalt thou fail:
With zeal and energy and truth
Thou surely must prevail.
Ere long thy foes shall be subdued,
Or in thy path be slain:
Here then I take a fresher start,
Never to yield again.
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Poet: Daniel C. Colesworthy
Shouldst Thou bestow the power to raise
But one petition to the skies,
I would not ask for length of days,
For wealth or honor - earthly praise;
But this my fervent prayer should be -
An humble heart to sacrifice,
In faith and love, God! to thee.
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