Lend A Hand
We all face adversity at some point in our lives. Let this poem encourage you to lend a hand when the times are good, as you never know what tomorrow holds and a lending hand you may need.
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Lend A Hand
Poet: Lillian E. Curtis
What is this world? A playhouse that God for man hath built,
And some by fortune are favored more than others;
Then, favored ones, upon this platform of woe, and want, and guilt,
Oh, assist your struggling, wayside brothers!
You, who on fortune's eminence chance to stand,
Open the heart and lend a hand.
Pity those who drink from Adversity's bittered cup,
Who trials and troubles count by the score.
Oh, help to lift sad, despairing ones up.
And God and man shall bless your store!
And seeing one on the margin of despondency stand,
Open the heart and lend a hand.
To-day Fortune may smile - to-morrow, may frown,
To-day we may be hugged in Prosperity's arms;
Such is life ! while some go up, others come down
Into the midst of Misfortune's alarms,
Hence, if high on the ladder of fortune you stand,
Open the heart and lend a hand.
Then, in this wilderness of contention and strife,
Life, for all, might become a bright dream,
By assisting those whose trials and struggles are rife.
Those pulling hard 'gainst Adversity's stream,
For those combating rough winds on life's changeful strand.
Open the heart and lend a hand.
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If we all lend a hand to those facing adversity the world would be a better place for everyone! Consider these poems also written by Lillian E Curtis:
The Hand Without The Heart
by Lillian E. Curtis
Of all the "might have beens" so sad to read on memory's page,
One seemeth sadder far than all the rest.
For it banishes faith and hope from out the heart,
There, ne'er more to make their nest.
Listen, ye youth, throughout our proud progressive land!
We beg your close and kind attention,
For it is expressly for your joy and welfare,
We of this sad note make mention
The saddest "might have been" we so calmly read.
That forms of life a part,
Is to pledge the hand, before the altar,
Reserving still, the faithful heart.
I've lived a life of two score years and ten,
And I, one cloudy, far off day,
Blighted my life by hugging my heart.
And giving my hand away.
There are marriages for wealth and station,
And I was poor and proud.
So I kept my heart and gave my hand.
While conscience clamored loud.
But there came a time, I gave my heart.
My hand was bound, but heart was free,
And thus the two were severed.
Dear reader, pity me!
And so the years have slipped away.
And the hand has been true and fulfilled its part,
But ah ! the saddest "might have been,"
Is the hand without the heart.
Now youthful fair, throughout out land,
In that crisis step that must joy or grief imparty
Beware! nor e'er bestow the hand,
Till likewise you give the heart.
What Shall We Leave On Memory's Page?
by Lillian E. Curtis
As we look back over the year that's almost past,
Year with clouds and sunshine overcast,
And record another year on Time's revolving stage,
The thought arises as we ponder o'er
The varied events memorizing 'Seventy-four,
What record would we leave on Memory's wide page?
Round us hope and ambition still survive.
And move toward the door of 'Seventy-five,
Not feeble and relaxing, but animated and undaunted,
And it were well, for without an aim in view,
Life would become dull and blue.
And this grovelling world be soon dis'chanted.
Something to win on Memory's sheet a claim,
That the world may not forget our name;
But then, life's dewy promises are so transparent, thin,
That as we review aspirations of 'Seventy-four,
For past regrets we'd have amends in store!
And nobly strive for the guerdon we would win.
Then not mere wealth, or pomp, or fame.
Should be the nucleus of our aim,
But that some humble lip can have to say.
When our spirits have soared aloft,
"Her kind words have cheered me oft,"
Ah, brightest memory, to live, and live for aye.
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