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An Alternative
Poet: John Kendrick Bangs
There's Byron on my shelf, and Shelley too;
There's dear old Doctor Holmes, and Thomas Moore,
With Wordsworth just below him, bound in blue,
And Browning's works stand over by the door.
There's Milton, Scott, Macaula/s Lays of Rome;
There's Tennyson and Matthew Arnold terse;
Longfellow, Shakespeare, and Rossetti's tome;
The odes of Horace and blest Omar's verse.
So vast these riches are in my poor eyes,
I can't decide which poet on my shelf
I'll read to-night, and so I'll compromise
And read these "Rhymes" in full calf by myself. -
A Threat
Poet: John Kendrick Bangs
I'm going to seek my foe to-day,
And when I meet him on the way,
No matter who is with him there,
With head held high up in the air,
I'll take the glove from off my fist
To give free play unto my wrist.
And then, as face to face we stand,
I'll - offer him my outstretched hand! -
In Sorry Plight
Poet: John Kendrick Bangs
To owe nobody anything? Well, that is not for me!
'Twould take away, I rather fear, quite half the joy of life.
I like to think of all the debts in loving sympathy
I owe to those whose tenderness has eased me of my strife.
It brings a glow into my heart to think of all I owe
To sturdy friends, who, when amid the cares of life I grope,
Refresh me with their precious stores of love to kill my woe.
And for the sting of sorrow substitute the sweets of hope.
He is indeed in friendless plight who hath no creditor
And does not know the joyous task of paying off the score! -
The Friend Unchangeable
Poet: John Kendrick Bangs
Long years ago when I was but a lad,
Once hurt and suffering, in spirit sad,
I chose for friend a star up in the blue
And in its kindly smile forgot my rue.
The years have passed and friends have come and gone.
I've tasted joy, and passed through seasons wan.
Things counted on have failed me, and in tears
I`ve tried to drown my sorrows and my fears.
But all the while, in happiness or pain;
In moments of success, or efforts vain,
That kindly star, unchangeable as truth.
Has stood my friend, as in the days of youth. -
A Choice
Poet: John Kendrick Bangs
If so be you're inclined to jeer
And greet all things with cynic sneer,
Remember, pray, the Owl, whose hoots
For merry song he substitutes;
Who hates the light,
And lives by night;
And loses all the hours of fun
He might be having in the sun.
If you desire to be an Owl,
Why, go ahead and hoot and scowl,
But don't complain if through the night
You miss the pleasures of the light. -
The Proof
Poet: John Kendrick Bangs
Do you doubt that you shall be
Blest with Immortality?
Glance about you at the bowers
Filled afresh with reborn flowers!
Heed the leaves that reappear
From the death of yesteryear!
Watch the grasses in the mirth
Of a glorious rebirth!
Think you that in God's great plan
New birth is denied to Man?
Man alone - is he to be
Shorn of Immortality?
'Mid these tokens full of cheer
Doesn't seem much room for fear! -
Achievement
Poet: John Kendrick Bangs
The climb is hard, the way is steep.
The path is rough and hard to keep.
The goal is far, and foes deride
The Traveler on every side.
Yet, day by day, and night by night.
We nearer draw unto the height,
Until at last the dawning sun
Shines on the prizes nobly won;
And all the strife, and vain regret.
By which the journey was beset
Forgotten lie amid the haze
Of fast receding Yesterdays. -
Gardening
Poet: John Kendrick Bangs
Have you got a garden where you gather wealth
Of the kind that comes from an abundant health?
There are other gardens full of human plants
Waiting for the worker looking for a chance!
Do you weed your garden, freeing it of woe
That the tender blossoms may more freely grow?
There are human blossoms choking mid the weeds
Of the stress of sorrow, and their daily needs!
In the human garden - that's the place to work!
That 's the place where dangers to the flowers lurk!
In the city byways, in the slums of dole,
Where there might be sprouting roses of the soul! -
The Heart Of A Boy
Poet: John Kendrick Bangs
I give you my word I am fifty to-day,
And many's the trouble that's lurked on my way.
Misfortune and failure have each done their part,
And bitter the tears that have welled in my heart.
But faith in my God, and the love of my kind,
And smiles, whether wistful or not, in my mind,
Have held me at fifty as full of true joy
As ever you'll find in the Heart of a Boy! -
Tears
Poet: John Kendrick Bangs
Now what are tears but showers sent
To ease the heart by sorrows pent?
And what are showers but the play
That leads us to the greener day?
To know them not, would be, I fear,
To dull the sweetness of our cheer,
And hold us all unknowing of
The deeper, hidden joys of Love. -
The Vacant Chair
Poet: John Kendrick Bangs
Have you a vacant chair
Somewhere?
Let It be filled by Memory
With visions fair
Of scenes that used to be.
Within its soft embrace
Once more retrace
The well-beloved form of one
To other realms passed on.
Live o'er again the happy hours
That strew your yesterdays like flowers
Along a sunlit way
That neither wither nor decay,
And bless that vacant chair
For standing there!
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