African American Poetry: A Digital Anthology

J. Pauline Smith, "Exceeding Riches and Other Verse" (1922) (full text)

Note: This text was edited and formatted by Sarah Thompson based on page image scans at HathiTrust in June 2024. 


"EXCEEDING RICHES" AND OTHER VERSE 
 
 by J. PAULINE SMITH 
 
 Compiler of "Olive Prints'  
 (A Year-Book of Quotations from Robert Browning's Poems) 
 
 Detroit, Michigan 
 
 1922 
 
 Copyright, 1921, by J. Pauline Smith 
 
 A. M. E. BOOK CONCERN 
 PHILADELPHIA, PA. 
 
 Affectionately Dedicated to 
 MOTHER 
 Whose lullaby songs were all from the Methodist Church Hymnal 


PREFACE 
 
     Acknowledgement of the following magazines, religious and secular papers, in which some of the verses herein originally appeared, is hereby made: "Detroit Young Women" (the former publication of the Young Women's Christian Association of Detroit), "Detroit Club Woman," Detroit Leader, Detroit Free Press and the Christian Recorder, Philadelphia. ' Under the title "The Heart of Christmas," a gift booklet was printed in 1917, containing the verse for "Festival Days." These with others, hitherto unpublished, have been included in this little volume and sent forth in the hope that they may be of interest to a wider circle of readers. 
 
                                                                           THE AUTHOR. 
 November, 1921. 


A FOREWORD 
 
      The crying need of the world to-day was adequately stated in the Summer (1919) number of "Le Livre Contemporain." "The war," says this writer, "showed the utter futility of materialism — of the age of science, and if civilization is not to fail again, we must center our lives and ambitions not on things material, but rather on things of the spirit." 
      The verses found in this slender volume are an expression of this life of the spirit. Their author, like Wordsworth, or even more like Milton, triumphs over every 'vicissitude of fortune because her mind is fixed upon the eternal, hence nothing temporal can permanently depress her spirit or destroy her abiding joy and peace. Such writers, whether unknown or well- known, have a message for mankind; and those who pause and read these lines will have their minds and hearts refreshed and strengthened, and their spiritual eyes uplifted to the Lord, from whence cometh our help. 
                                                                      THERESA SMITH, B. Pd. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Exceeding Riches 15 
 Universal Language 16 
 Made One By The Glory 16 
 How Much More 17 
 Love's Work 18 
 "Call Me Ishi" 19 
 A Prayer for the Times 20 
 The "Greater One" 21 
 More Than Others" 22 
 A Dedication 23 
 "Good Things to Come" 24 
 God's Scales 25 
 "He That Keepeth Israel" 26 
 "Pleasures Forever More" 26 
 A Lesson from Gideon 27 
 Some Promised Blooms 28 
 A Contrast 29 
 Aspiration 29 
 Is Your Name Ahisamach ? 30 
 "Berechah" 31 
 Communion 32 
 Fullest Life 32 
 "Though The Outward Man Perish" 33 
 Accounted Worthy 34 
 "Jehovah Shammah" 35 
 The Winnowing-Fan 36 
 A Name , 37 
 "We Are Incorruptible" 38 
 The Call 38 
 Kinship With Christ 39 
 "They Shall See His Face" 40 
 "This Beginning of Miracles" 41 
 "That I May Know Him" 42 
 "Neither" 42 
 "Three Things" 42 
 God's "Best," Not Ours 43 
 Remembered Lands 44 
 "Ahava" 45 
 The Universal Call 46 
 "The Legion of The Lark" 47 
 "Not Otherwise" 49 
 "Those Things Which Are Before" 50 
 "That Bread of Life" 51 
 God's Secret 52 
 Omnipotence 53 
 Christ's Acquaintanceship 53 
 A Prayer 54 
 "No More Sea" 55 
 "Unrest" 56 
 "The Old Paths" 57 
 

 FESTIVAL DAYS 
 
 The New Year and Song 61 
 Facing The Future 61 
 The New Year 62 
 The Message of Easter 63 
 "Because He Lives" 64 
 "Children of The Resurrection" 65 
 "There Was Darkness" 66 
 The Children's Hosannas 66 
 The First Easter Morning 67 
 Thanksgiving 68 
 Our Source of Strength 68 
 When The Heart Keeps Christmas 69 
 The Heart of Christmas 70 
 Mary's Part 71 
 God's Gift 72 
 

 MISCELLANEOUS 
 
 Robert Browning 75 
 The Club Woman 76 
 Robin Redbreast 77 
 Y W. C. A. Anniversary Song 78 
 Anniversary Hymn 79 
 Our Tercentenary 80 
 "The Wings of The Morning" 81 
 A Winter Picture 82 
 Anniversary Hymn 83 
 "School, Drive Slowly" 84 
 Lost— Our Little Girls 85 
 Our Flag 86 
 The Symbol of The Red Cross 87 
 A War Time Prayer 88 
 The Source of Wars 89 
 



MEDITATIONS 


 
 "EXCEEDING RICHES" 
  (Eph. ii : 7-8) 
 
O grace Divine, it saves me now! 
      With riches free doth me endow; 
 I once was blind, but now I see 
      Redemption plann'd so wondrously! 
 
 O grace Divine, it saves me now! 
      And sets God's favor on my brow; 
 It plants my feet where angels tread, 
      With life eternal crowns my head! 
 
 O grace Divine, it saves me now! 
       My Saviour's mercy I avow, 
 But shall not know till face to face 
      "The exceeding riches of His grace!”

 
 THE UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE 
 
 Tis not spoken by the tongue of man 
      Nor uttered by his voice; 
 It needeth not interpreter 
      To make the heart rejoice. 
 
 We hear it in each glad new day 
      That comes to me and you; 
 In starry gleams at night it speaks 
      From heaven's o'er-arching blue. 
 
 Its sweeter sounds are treble tones, 
      The thunder is its base; 
  If 'tis a voice most powerful, 
      'Tis also full of grace. 
 
 'Tis gone abroad thro' all the earth, 
      Where'er men see and hear, 
 Nature's myriad voices tell 
      The Mighty God is near. 
 

 MADE ONE BY THE GLORY 
 
 You have seen at sunset how the crimson and the gold 
 Unite in wondrous radiance that doth all things enfold: 
 The lowly cottter's dwelling and stately walls of stone, 
 In lavish'st adornment is this golden splendor thrown. 
 'Tis the miracle of eventide when day's discordant story  
 Is harmonized to beauty by the sun's departing glory. 
 
 No one knows the glory that was our Saviour's own 
 Before He left the light and life about the Father's throne, 
 But is it -not the greatest thing in His high-priestly prayer 
 That He should in that happy state permit us all to share? 
 That here, perhaps at eventide, all creeds' confusing story 
 Shall merged be in one by the greatness of His glory ! 
 

 HOW MUCH MORE? 
 (Heb. 9:14) 
 Forthwith every need supply, 

 If a loving earthly parent 
      Heareth when his children cry, 
 If he always gladly seeketh 
 Shall not God, our Heavenly Father, 
      Who is rich in boundless store, 
 Good things give to him that asketh, 
      Give in bounty, how much more? 
 
 If, again, that earthly parent 
      Would not substitute a stone 
 For the bread that nature craveth, 
      When the cry comes from his own, 
 Shall not God, our Heavenly Father, 
      On our thirsty spirits pour 
 All the quick'ning of His Spirit, 
      Fullest measure, how much more? 
 
 If the blood of bulls and fatlings, 
      Freely on the altar given, 
 Brought to mankind—erring, sinful, 
      Gift of cleansing down from Heaven, 
 Shall not then the blood of Jesus 
      Wash us, purge us and restore 
 Our dead consciences to service, 
      By its power, how much more? 
 
 How much more! O, how much more! 
      Than the richest parent's store, 
 Shall not God, our Heavenly Father, 
      On us His Holy Spirit pour? 
 Shall not Christ, our blessed Saviour, 
      More than offerings of yore, 
 Purge us, cleanse us, "How much more?” 
 

 LOVE'S WORK 
 
 Oh, the life that loves is the life that lives, 
           That lives and never dies. 
 To the soul that loves the Saviour gives 
           A home beyond the skies. 
 
 Oh, the heart that loves is the heart that grows 
           That grows more like to Him; 
 To the heart that loves the Saviour shows 
           Himself, the light within. 
 
 For love alone makes life worth while, 
            And love is from above; 
 It clothes us with the Saviour's smile, 
           For God Himself is love. 
 

 "CALL ME ISHI" 
 (Hosea 2:16) 
 
 "Call me Ishi," Church of God, 
 I for thee the wine-press trod, 
 All my glory did forego 
 To woo thee from the Prince of woe, 
           "Call me Ishi." 
 
 "Call me Ishi," lonely one; 
 I will be thy shield and sun; 
 I'll thine every need supply; 
 When in danger, I'll be nigh; 
           "Call me Ishi." 
 
 "Call me Ishi," nevermore 
 Other lovers to adore; 
 Thee, I in righteousness betroth, 
 Mine alone from now henceforth, 
           "Call me Ishi." 
 

 A PRAYER FOR THE TIMES—1914 
 
 Oh, in these days of war's array, 
 We would unceasing daily pray, 
 Where gay externals nigh had won us 
 Lord, let Thy beauty be upon us; 
 
 Above all grace of form or skin, 
 Lord, make us beautiful within ; 
 Like Moses, may our faces shine 
 With that rare glory caught from Thine. 
 
 In lieu of robes of costly price, 
 Lord, may Thine estimate suffice: 
 And we esteem it passing fair 
 The Spirit's lowly garb to wear. 

 
 THE "GREATER ONE" 
 (Luke 11:31) 
 
 Exerywhere you reverent turn, 
 Can you not in truth discern 
 Here the presence-room of One 
 Greater than King Solomon? 
 
 In the blue of yon clear sky, 
 On the grass where pearls lie, 
 In the pure, ambient air, 
 Speaks there not Jehovah's care? 
 
 In the peace that reigns at dawn 
 On a glorious summer morn, 
 Breathes there not assurance clear 
 That the Prince of Peace is here? 
 
 In the matin-song of bird. 
 This sweet undertone is heard; 
 "It is I, Be of good cheer! 
 Lo, the 'Greater One is here!" 
 

 "MORE THAN OTHERS" 
  (Matt. 5:47) 
 
 The "more than others" people, 
      Don't you love them though! 
 In business, church and social life, 
      How they keep the world aglow! 
 
 Going always one mile farther 
      Than a friend requests: 
 Working ever somewhat harder, 
      While some tired one rests. 
 
 Loving where no love is given, 
      When there's no reward: 
 Saluting not alone their brethren 
      Following their Lord. 
 
 These "more than others" people, 
      What a vital place they fill! 
 And their ranks are never crowded, 
      Won't you join their guild? 

 
 A DEDICATION 
 
 Holy Spirit, I give myself to Thee, 
      Do as Thou wilt with me: 
      Chasten, reprove, refine, 
      So Christ's life may shine 
      Through me to men, 
 And souls be born again! 
 
 Holy Spirit, I give myself to Thee, 
      That Thou my Guide mayst be 
      In all the paths of Truth, 
      So that aspiring youth 
      May Christ's own image see, 
 Reflected clear in me! 
 
 Spirit of prayer and praise, 
      Grant in these latter days, 
      When wolves attack the fold 
      And love oft waxeth cold, 
      That I, baptized anew, 
 Mav stand steadfast and true! 

 
 "GOOD THINGS TO COME" 
 (Heb. 9:11) 
 
 Such things as prophets in the days of old 
 Did so much long- Jehovah would unfold; 
 Just how the daily sacrifice should cease, 
 And leave no need of temple veil and priest; 
 How One, a lamb before his shearers dumb, 
 Should be for man of offerings the sum, 
 The fruitage of their hopes—"Good things to come." 
 
 Such things as in the fullness of the time 
 Did come to pass, making the Earth sublime; 
 So that the chosen Twelve could all rejoicing say: 
 Our eyes have seen the life, the Truth, the Way; 
 Within the temple courts no need of traffic's hum, 
 Henceforth its rites and ritual are dumb 
 Before the Word made flesh: "the good things to come." 
 
 Such things the Master must have had in view 
 When to the Twelve He said: "Much greater shall ye do"; 
 Such things as came with Pentecost, and since that day 
 Have blazed for the Church a shining way; 
 Such things as make all other voices dumb 
 To those who know their Christ as Priest, the sum 
 Of present joys; and still—"Good things to come!" 
 

 GOD'S SCALES 
 
 How much weigh you to God? 
 His are unerring scales, 
 So finely set the balances 
 Adjustment never fails. 
 
 Are you so full of faith, 
 And deeds of holy love, 
 That they'll amply weigh for you 
 With Him who dwells above? 
 
 Is yours the moral worth, 
 And more, the heart so free, 
 That you can meet His final test: 
 "Leave all and follow me?" 
 
 How much weigh you to God? 
 For after all our vaunting, 
 None at last would hear Him say: 
 "Weighed, and found wanting." 
 

 "HE THAT KEEPETH ISRAEL" 
 (Ps. 121:4) 
 
 Sometimes, o'erworn by many cares. 
 We are too weary for our prayers; 
 Then, how assuring it is to know, 
 As we to rest confiding go 
 That He who doth His Israel keep 
 Hath not our human need of sleep; 
 
 That dear ones, near and far away, 
 For whom we may not conscious pray, 
 Are kept, and we have peace serene, 
 Because there watches One between 
 Who safely guards His scatter'd sheep, 
 And doth dot not cease His watch for sleep. 
 
 And then how oft when dawns the day; 
 When we to work betake our way, 
 Though open-eyed we fail to see 
 The snares escap'd by you and me. 
 Because He who ever guards His sheep 
 Doth neither slumber take nor sleep ! 
 

 "PLEASURES FOREVERMGRE" 
 (Ps. 16:11) 
 
 O ye, so burdened here with care,  
      No time for pleasure have to spare; 
 And ye whose purses are too short 
      To surplus leave for happy sport, 
 Who spend, perhaps, what you might save 
      To make another's path less grave, 
 Because vour hearts are running o'er 
      With love for One who sorrows bore, 
 For you, of pleasures, He hath store 
      At His right hand forevermore! 
 
 O ye, whose wage no margin yields 
      For gladsome strolls in verdant fields; 
 For leisure hours to idly spend 
      On ocean's beach till summer's end: 
 Or cruise 'mid Nature's lovely scenes— 
      Adown her myriad inland streams; 
 O ye whose scanty little store 
      Forbids much wandering from the shore, 
 Yet, rich in faith, your pleasures soar. 
      At His right hand forevermore! 
 
 "At His right hand?" It is not far, 
      Indeed, 'tis just beyond the bar. 
 You breathe not long the close land-air, 
      Which seems so very hard to bear, 
 When other barks put out in glee, 
      Know all the fresh joys of the sea; 
 But you shall know as saints of yore. 
      To suffer is to taste life's core, 
 And on those higher pleasures pore, 
      At His right hand forevermore ! 
 

 A LESSON FROM GIDEON 
 
 What riches in the Word one finds 
      In reading 'twixt the marginal lines! 
  There, in the wars by Judges told, 
      What vistas doth this fact unfold: 
 The Spirit of God did rest upon 
      Or "clothe itself with Gideon!" 
 Gideon, just the earthly dress 
      Through which the Spirit did His best; 
 Just the mouth and hands and feet 
      To make the work of God complete. 
 
 Oh, in these days when so much care 
      Is given to the clothes we wear, 
 When we more than we like to own, 
      Think so much of a pretty gown, 
 How it doth kindle us to read 
      This line about the Spirit's need! 
 That He, to follow God's behest, 
      Must take us for His earthly dress! 
 For this, O Spirit, make us meet
      To be Thy garb, Thy work complete! 
 

 SOME PROMISED BLOOMS 
 (Isa. 61:11) 
 
 Though anemone and violet 
      Regale the woodland ways, 
 Some fairer blooms are promised yet 
      E'en righteousness and praise. 
 
 Which, as Earth puts forth her bud, 
      And causeth things to grow. 
 He, who sendeth all of good, 
      Shall for all nations sow. 
 
 Hence, flowers silent heralds are, 
      For as they spring and grow, 
 We know there hasteth, tho' afar, 
      His own great floral show. 
 

 A CONTRAST 
 
      "Nothing is known," 
      The Cynic said, 
 And sadly bowed his learned head. 
 "We mortals here—a mimic show— 
 May much surmise, but nothing know. 
 The Past? evolution disagree; 
 The Present? so near, no one rightly sees; 
 The Future? mere wild hypotheses." 
 
           "One I know," 
            The Christian said, 
 And raised aloft his trusting head. 
 "The One who keeps my sacred trust, 
 Redeems us from the mocking dust. 
 "The Past? God the dower; 
 The Present? kept by His power; 
 The Future? Faith's crowning hour." 
 

 ASPIRATIONS 
 
      O, Christ of Galilee, 
      Make Thyself known to me! 
 Thou, who didst the hungry feed, 
 Let me know something of the need 
      Of hungry souls: 
 That none may empty go away 
 For want of word that I should say. 
 
      O, Christ of Bethany, 
      Make Thyself known to me! 
 Thou, whom households loved to greet, 
 Let me learn also at Thy feet 
      The love that folds 
 All human loves within its own 
 And scatters joy as light is sown. 
 
      O, Christ of Calvary, 
      Make Thyself known to me! 
 Thou who gavest all so willingly, 
 Let mine be just such love for Thee, 
      That naught withholds; 
 Nor counteth not the human cost 
 Which spreads the glory of Thy cross. 
 

 IS YOUR NAME AHISAMACH? 
 (Suggested by a lesson in the "Drop-in-Bible Class," Y.W.C.A.) 
 
 Of all those queer old Hebrew names, 
 Which each a special meaning claims, 
 There is none one would more gladly own 
 Than that by Bezeleel's helper borne: 
 Ahisamach, "supporter of a brother," 
 Would you not love above all other? 
 
 Upon your arm does some one lean? 
 By some one's side can you be seen, 
 In some dark, crucial, trying hour, 
 To save her from the Tempter's power; 
 Swift to supply a sister's lack, 
 Is your name. Ahisamach? 
 
 Have you the love that some one needs? 
 Some heart that sadly droops and bleeds 
 For fellowship and some true friend 
 To whom to go, on whom depend, 
 For help along life's upward track, 
 Is your name Ahisamach? 
 
 When one is fainting beneath her load, 
 And tired, too, because of the road, 
 Is yours the ready word of cheer 
 To make that load less hard to bear? 
 Or to lift it from a sister's back, 
 Is your name Ahisamach? 
 
 Oh, life would easier, sweeter be, 
 For other souls near you and me, 
 Should we so wholly in Him trust, 
 His strength so perfect be in us, 
 He to our names could add this other, 
 "Ahisamach, supporter of a brother." 
 

 "BERECHAH" 
 (2 Chron. 20) 
 
 Forth to meet their enemies, 
      Those men of Judah went— 
 At the word of God by the prophet 
      Who to their king was sent— 
 In the dewv dawn of the morning,
      To the wilderness of Tekoa, 
 With no arms or ammunition, 
      Save to shout God's praises o'er! 
 
 They march'd to meet three armies, 
      Who had up against them come; 
 But, fearing not, they trusted God, 
      Who sent their praise shafts home ; 
 For the "liers-in-wait" were angel bands, 
      And more confused were they 
 Than if the men of Judah had 
      With weapons won the day. 
 
 Then, after the unfought battle 
      And the taking of great spoil, 
 When their foes all were vanquish'd 
      Without their martial toil, 
 Because the battle was the Lord's, 
      And He had fought for them, 
 They paused on the homeward journey 
      For a glad thanksgiving hymn; 
 
 Paused in a lowly valley, 
      Where, their gratitude expressing 
 In songs so high and jubilant, 
      Made it the vale of "Blessing." 
 From that blest day and forward, 
      For the hearts uplifted there, 
 They called that joyous trysting-place, 
      "Valley of Berechah." 
 

 COMMUNION 
 
 Just to go apart with Jesus, 
 Just to hear His still, small voice; 
 Just to wait upon His message, 
 Just to know He is my choice: 
 
 Just to hear my Saviour speaking 
 In the stillness of my soul; 
 Just to have the waves of blessing 
 O'er my waiting spirit roll; 
 
 O, 'tis sweetest of all pleasures 
 Thus to steal away to Him! 
 Thus to be alone with Jesus 
 And to feel His peace within. 
 
 I would often seek my Saviour, 
 I would never leave His side; 
 I would go forth in His presence, 
 And would in Him e'er abide ! 
 

 FULLEST LIFE 
 
 If Christ were living full in me, 
 How radiant my life would be! 
 How lost ones would Thy glory see, 
 If my poor heart continually 
 Kept open house alway for Thee! 
 
 Lord, of that living water give, 
 That I may in Thy fullness live; 
 O grant that there may daily be, 
 That well upspringing glad in me, 
 Refreshing, 'midst life's stress and strife. 
 Thy well-spring of eternal life! 

 If Christ were living full in me, 
 How luminous my life would be! 
 How it would shine far out to sea 
 And heaven-ward point unerringly 
 Had Christ abiding place with me! 
 
 If Christ were living full in me, 
 His risen life so rich and free, 
 How He would lead to victory. 
 And life abundant mine would be, 
 Self crucified and merged in Thee! 
 

 'THOUGH OUR OUTWARD MAN PERISH" 
  (2 Cor. 4:16) 
 
 "Though our outward man perish," 
      Worn by work and care, 
 If the Holy Spirit nourish, 
      The inner grows more fair. 
 
 "Though our outward man perish," 
      Grows weak to human view, 
 As the Holy One doth cherish, 
      The inner man's made new. 
 
 “Though our outward man perish," 
      At the call of mother clay, 
 The inner man shall flourish 
      Unto the perfect day! 
 

 "ACCOUNTED WORTHY" 
 (Luke 21:34-36) 
 
 To stand before the Son of man 
                Unshrinkingly, 
 When from His face, in that dread day, 
 Heaven and earth shall flee away, 
 To be accounted worthy then to stand, 
 Upright and calm at His right hand, 
 Our Lord, alone, makes known the way: 
                "Watch and pray!" 
 
 To stand before the Son of man 
                Preparedly; 
 Not freighted so with earthly cares; 
 That day approach us unawares; 
 But, like those virgins, wise, to be 
 Ready the bridegroom's face to see, 
 Our Lord alone makes known the way: 
               "Watch and pray!" 
 
 To stand before the Son of man 
                Victoriously, 
 When that unnumbered host shall come 
 For word of welcome, or of doom; 
 To be deemed worthy palms to wave, 
 White-robed, among the final brave, 
 In that fire-testing, judgment-day; 
 Said He, the Life, the Truth, the Way: 
                "Watch and pray !" 
 

 "JEHOVAH SHAMMAH" 
 (Ezek. 48:35) 
 
 A vision of the ideal city, 
      The exiled prophet saw, 
 And set it forth in all the beauty 
      That dwells in perfect law. 
 
 A city where Jehovah's glory,
      Once lost thro' sin and pride, 
 In this seer's redemption story 
      Is seen to ever abide. 
 
 A city where a river floweth, 
      Which doth such vigor give, 
 That it is said, where'er it goeth. 
      All living things shall live. 
 
 A name was to the city given. 
      That told what made it fair: 
 As it for God had humbly striven, 
      'Twas called: "The Lord is there." 
 

 THE WINNOWING-FAN 
 
 When o'er the rich and golden grain 
 There swept that quaint old winnowing-fan, 
 So swiftly parted was chaff from wheat, 
 The threshing-floor became a judgment seat: 
 Where husks were burned or blown away, 
 And the grain stored up for a coining day. 
 
 Thus John, while pondering it all o'er, 
 In the wilderness by the Dead Sea's shore, 
 Saw how this odd, old winnowing-fan 
 Portrayed the work of the Son of man: 
 How the clear light of His righteousness 
 Would be henceforth man's winnowing test 
 
 So true this picturesque metaphor, 
 Once used by John, who went before! 
 For still wherever Christ has come, 
 He's brought this sifting process home: 
 We're blown like chaff to the winds amain, 
 Or Ave rest in His garner as golden grain. 
 

 A NAME 
 
 So well he wrote and with such power, 
      Such logic, clear and keen, 
 Men call the epistles from his pen 
      Of very right —"Pauline." 
 
 They breathe the spirit of a man 
      Who, counting not the price. 
  So loved and served that he could say, 
      "For me to live is Christ." 
 
 In after years how it must thrill 
      And mould the life, I ween, 
 When parents o'er baptismal vows 
      Have named a child—"Pauline." 
 

 "WE AN INCORRUPTIBLE" 
 
 What things men do for crowns that fade, 
      For laurels lasting but a day! 
 What willing sacrifice is made 
      For just a wreath that will decay! 
 
 We, listed in a race where all 
      Receive unfading crowns of life, 
 May count those transient garlands small 
      To be but victors in this strife ! 
 

 THE CALL 
 
 The great "I Am" still speaks to men, 
 Still hears the needy's cry, I ken; 
 Where they in hopeless chains are bound, 
 Some one will find it "holy ground," 
 And turn from keeping sheep to see 
 The old Mount Horeb mystery: 
 Why burns the bush with living flame, 
 And yet its outline is the same! 
 In that hour on his ears shall fall 
 The great, all-thrilling service call: 
 And, awed and doubtful though he be, 
 He'll humbly answer, "Lord, send me." 
 

 KINSHIP WITH CHRIST 
  (Matt. 12:50) 
 
 Perhaps we may not trace our line 
 On pages where the records shine 
 With deeds of worth in town or state, 
 Which place some men among the great; 
 
 Perhaps earth-honored pedigree 
 Has fallen not to you and me; 
 But, list ye to the King of kings, 
 As He a higher kinship brings! 
 
 "Whoso," said He in tenderest love, 
 "Shall do my Father's will, above, 
 The same is kindred unto me— 
 Shall mother, brother or sister be!" 
 
 Father, we pray, Thy Spirit send, 
 Grant as our aim, our life's great end; 
 To kinship have with the King of kings, 
 And the deathless fame such record brings. 
 

 'THEY SHALL SEE HIS FACE" 
 
 However cloudy be their days,
 However strenuous their ways, 
 They know, who put their trust in Him, 
 These things that "wear the thickness thin,” 
 But bring them nearer to the place 
 Where "they shall see His face!" 
 
 O Face! that just to look upon 
 Shall mean their highest ideals won! 
 For when they see that visage fair, 
 They shall themselves its likeness wear. 
 Earth's fiercest tests shall leave no trace 
 When "they shall see His face!" 
 
 Oh, how it shoots through all the years 
 A light that dissipates their tears! 
 Who love Him know, whate'er betide, 
 That one day they'll be satisfied: 
 That day when they, O wondrous grace, 
 Behold that thorn-crowned, holy Face! 
 

 "THIS BEGINNING OF MIRACLES" 
 
 "Fill the water-pots with water," 
       They rilled them to the brim 
 At this word the Master spake 
       When Mary turned to Him; 
 Now draw out and bear, He said, 
      Lo, following His behests, 
 The festal wine is crimson red 
      They bear unto those guests! 
 Then that one whom Jesus loved, 
      Divined the wondrous story, 
 That this beginning sign there proved— 
      Made manifest His glory. 
 

 'THAT I MAY KNOW HIM" 
 (PhiL 3:16) 
 
 To know Him! O aim sublime, 
 Surpassing all the quests of time; 
 Pursuit of gold, of wealth or fame 
 Holds no such charm as Jesus' name! 

 To know Him! On coming morrows 
 To better know the Man of Sorrows— 
 The Christ our heavenly Father sent— 
 Is purpose high and life well spent. 
 
 To "know Him!" the Apostle flings 
 This word as he enraptured sings: 
 "All other things I count but dross 
 To know the glory of the cross!" 

 
 "NEITHER" 
 
 Neither rites, nor creeds, nor churchly forms 
           Avail with God above: 
 One thing alone His word requires: 
           Faith which works by love. 
 
 Neither Jew, nor Greek, nor bond, nor free; 
           No man by birth is known; 
 From Scythian shores or isles of Greece, 
           They all in Christ are one. 
 
 No one is high, no one is low,— 
            There is no great nor small ; 
 All human lines sink out of view 
           And Christ is all in all! 
 

 "THREE THINGS" 
 (On hearing: a sermon to children from Gen. 26:25) 
 
 Three things within the narrative 
      Are writ of one of old, 
 Whose name meant Laughter, and whose 
      Life held symbols manifold; 
 
 Wherever on his journeyings 
      This pilgrim chose to dwell, 
 He altar built, pitched his tent, 
      And then he digged a well. 
 
 An altar and a tenting-place 
      Should our life's story tell; 
 Then thirsty ones who follow us 
      Will find a living well. 
 

 GOD'S "BEST," NOT OURS 
 
 God cannot fully use the man 
 Whose aim is just "the best" he can; 
 To fill our souls with holy fire, 
 More than our "best" does He require. 
 
 It burned upon the lips of Paul 
 Who more abundant wrought than all; 
 With His strength as my guarantee, 
 All things can be performed by me. 
 
 Thus, the searching service test 
 Is not our boastful human "best;" 
 But through us and how mightily 
 Has worked the Christ of Galilee. 

 
 REMEMBERED LANDS 
 
 O land, remembered after years 
      Of waste and devastation, 
 O land, sought out by God again, 
      Thy people made a nation! 
 
 O exiled sires who loyal wept 
      By streams of Babylon, 
 The "Pleasant land" of your desire 
      His thoughts did dwell upon. 
 
 Till He restored the glory land, 
      He had first for you espied; 
 The sorrow of thy widowed years 
      His wrath hath satisfied. 
 
 Thy sons no more "Forsaken" art, 
      Nor thou termed "Desolate," 
 The Lord hath called thee "Beulah" land 
      And given thee new estate. 

 O Palestine and Africa, 
      Now stretching forth your hands, 
 Again thou shalt His glory see, 
      As His remembered lands ! 
 

 "AHAVA" 
 
 At Ahava, stream of Persia, 
 There we halted, fasted, pray'd 
 That o'er the robber-ridden desert 
 We might journey unafraid. 
 
 On Jehovah, God of battles, 
 We had rested, trusted, stay'd, 
 Now, in this, our hour of testing, 
 Could we seek for lesser aid? 
 
 By Ahava, stream of Persia, 
 Fears were routed, worsted, laid; 
 For our children, wives and treasure, 
 God our confidence was made. 
 
 From Ahava, stream of Persia, 
 With no visual guard of men; 
 But with God's "good hand" upon us 
 Safe we reached Jerusalem! 
 

 THE UNIVERSAL CALL 
 (Ps. 50:1) 
 
 From lands of dawn and rising sun 
 To where his westering course is run, 
 There comes to this old, teeming earth, 
 Thro' cypress shade and scenes of mirth, 
           The call of God. 
 
 No ear there is so dull but hears, 
 Somewhere adown the path of years, 
 The voice that heeds not class nor clan 
 But finds the longing heart of man— 
           The call of God. 
 
 More swift than wireless thro' the air. 
 While suns from morn to evening wear, 
 This summons comes that bids us rest, 
 That satisfies the heart's deep quest— 
           The call of God. 
 

 "THE LEGION OF THE LARK" 
 
 "Legion of the Lark," great Caesar called 
 Those daring men he chose from captive Gaul 
 To be his body-guard, and follow him 
 Thro' all his future wars and vict'ries grim;  
 Because they bore upon their helmets high 
 The image of that bird of song in upper sky; 
 For Caesar loved to have those warriors near 
 Who met the brunt of battle with songs of cheer. 
 
 His "Legion of the Lark" are soldiers of the King, 
 Who on the moral battlefield know how to fight and sing; 
 Who defeat the Prince of darkness in his most subtle ways, 
 As nothing so appals him as constant prayer and praise; 
 Thus those Christian soldiers, who season with a song 
 Every stern engagement, are God's Legion of the strong; 
 And we may well imagine their sweetest notes will come 
 As a final strain of triumph when they are soaring home. 
 

 "NOT OTHERWISE" 
 
 Into a room where a sick one lay, 
      One day her pastor came to pray. 
 He thought to find the maiden sad, 
      And pondered long what words he had 
 To comfort bring where want and pain 
      Had done the work of that dread twain. 
 "’Tis hard to bear, I know," he said, 
      Taking a seat beside her bed. 
 She looked at him in pained surprise, 
      And spoke, as a light shone in her eyes, 
           "I would not have it otherwise." 
 
 "Not otherwise! how can you say 
      With life now in its opening day? 
 It must be hard to just lie here— 
      Within this room so void of cheer?" 
 He watched her face in wonder now, 
      Such radiance lighted eye and brow; 
 "Why you, yourself, have often told 
      How Christ gives blessings manifold. 
 I've found it true; in His will lies 
      All peace, and leaves no room for sighs; 
           I would not have it otherwise!" 
 
 The man of God went on his way, 
      Hers was the ministry that day; 
 Within that barren, upper room, 
      He'd found his sermons lived at home; 
 The calm which comes, he'd often said, 
      When all is on the altar laid— 
 Into his house, to think it o'er, 
      He passed and closed his study door. 
 There he, too, came to realize 
      That this was life's one greatest prize: 
           Not to "Have it otherwise." 

 
 "THOSE THINGS WHICH ARE BEFORE" 
 (Phil. 3:13) 
 
 "Those things which are before," 
  The things that give us wings to soar 
 In vision to that heavenly land, 
 Where our Christ reigns at God's right hand, 
 Blest end of all I seek and preach, 
 Towards these I reach! 

 Those things which make the cloudy days, 
 All bright with special hymns of praise, 
 That seeing, one doth plainly say, 
 "I seek a kingdom far away," 
 The things that transcend human speech, 
 Towards these I reach! 
 
 "Those things" on high which are before, 
 Mean climbing days are never o'er; 
 That as the Old Year's shades are falling, 
 I upward press to God's "high calling," 
 In Christ, the end of all I teach, 
 Towards Him I reach! 
 

 "THAT BREAD OF LIFE" 
 
 (Suggested by a Sunday School Lesson on the Giving of Manna) 
 
 Christ, "that bread of life, 
      If daily in the strife, 
 We did but feast on Thee, 
       How strong our lives would be! 
 
 O Christ, "that Bread of life, 
      As doctrines false are rife, 
 O may our tempters see 
      We are faring well on Thee! 

 They who on manna fed, 
      Did eat and they are dead; 
 Be Thou our souls supply, 
      That we may never die ! 
 

 GOD'S SECRET 
 
 (Ps. 25:14) 
 
 Precious pacts we have with dear ones, 
      Sweetest things in secret said 
 Only for the ears of near ones: 
      Hearts that to our hearts are wed. 
 
 But sweeter far to those that fear Him 
      Is the secret of the Lord, 
 Only shared with those most near Him: 
      Hearts with Him in blest accord. 

 Highest motive to revere Him: 
      That His life for ours was spent; 
 Just because He'd have us near Him 
      Wide the temple veil was rent ! 
 

 OMNIPOTENCE 
 
           A whole Red Sea 
 Is quite impassable to you and me; 
 But God's power at man's impossible starts, 
 And, lo, each Red Sea He divides in parts! 
 

 CHRIST’S ACQUAINTANCESHIP 
 
 He to the sad and sorrow-worn 
      Affords a swift and sure relief, 
 Because He, who hath our nature borne, 
      Acquainted was with grief. 
 
 One thing, howe'er, was never writ 
      In that Book—our fondest treasure—  
 That He, who is the source of it, 
      Acquainted was with pleasure! 
 

 A PRAYER 
 
 Use me, Lord, use me for my race, 
 To send their status up a pace; 
 To make their merits better known; 
 Hasten their coming to their own! 
 
 Use me, Lord, use me for Thy Church, 
 May lost ones never vainly search 
 For the glow of my small light 
 Out upon the world's dark night! 
 
 Use me, Lord, use for Thyself alone, 
 The life that's ransom'd by Thine own; 
 May it a living letter be— 
 With a message straight from Thee! 
 

 "NO MORE SEA" 
 (Suggested by a poem in the Literary Digest, regretting the absence of the sea from heaven) 
 
      "There shall be no more sea," 
 For endless sorrow rests 
 Upon its ever-heaving crests; 
 In that land where many mansions be,
 Sorrow and sighing away shall flee, 
      There could be "no more sea." 
 
      "There shall be no more sea," 
 For the wicked are like its troubled waves, 
 Whom nothing quiets, nothing saves ; 
 In that realm where all is melody, 
 And peace as a river flows on in majesty, 
       There can be no more sea! 
 
      "There shall be no more sea!" 
 The sea divides, and causes salt, salt tears; 
 Begets forebodings and unbidden fears; 
 There souls exult; no partings know, nor sighs, 
 As God doth wipe away all tears from our eyes. 
      "There shall be no more sea!" 
 
      "There shall be no more sea!" 
 I am glad this word was said— 
 The sea shall cease to be when it gives up its dead!  
 For when we are transplanted to that home above, 
 There'll only be one ocean—the ocean of God's love! 

 
 "UNREST" 
 
 They tell us there's unrest today, 
 That men grope blindly for the Way; 
 That the price we've paid for liberty 
 Is a world-drifting "all at sea." 
 
 They tell us that old truths are dead; 
 That the last word has not been said; 
 Love's waxen cold and faith diminished; 
 So we've forgotten: ‘It is finished.' 
 
 Tell, tell us (but it is not so), 
 That men know not the way to go; 
 For still there's Christ and Calvary, 
 The Risen One, saying: "Come unto me." 
 
 Though times may change, the Truth endures, 
 And Christ's touch still man's fever cures; 
 And still He calls to rest and peace; 
 He breaks the bow, makes wars to cease. 
 
 No talk of "change" must faith dissever, 
 Since Christ's the same "today, forever," 
 Our yesterdays—lived in His name— 
 Still point the path to deathless fame. 

 
 "THE OLD PATHS" 
 
 (Jer. 6:16) 
 
 Those old lov'd paths across the scented fields, 
 Where we so lightly trod the well-worn way, 
 Inhaling fragrance of the new-mown hay, 
 Or perfume which the sweet white clover yields; 
 Till scent of hay and clover magic wields 
 And visions new each care-free, happy day, 
 When papa's loving hand-clasp seem'd to say: 
 Here's all the shelter of a thousand shields! 
 Those ancient paths, anent the seer's behest, 
 As he, while streaming tears his eyes o'erfill, 
 Bade Israel forsake her wayward quest, 
 Bear they a likeness to these ways of rest? 
 It must be so, for we are children still, 
 And those "old paths" our Heavenly Father's will. 


FESTIVAL DAYS 

 
 THE NEW YEAR AND SONG 
 
 Start the New Year singing, 
 Keep God's praises ringing, 
 Cheer to sad hearts bringing; 
 Start the New Year singing! 
 
 Start the New Year singing, 
 Keep Hope's pinions winging, 
 Wide the glad notes flinging; 
 Start the New Year singing! 
 
 Start the New Year singing, 
 To the old tunes clinging, 
 They with grace are ringing; 
 Start the New Year singing! 
 
 Start the New Year singing, 
 Song is faith upspringing, 
 Victory's gates outswinging; 
 Start the New Year singing! 
 

 FACING THE FUTURE 
 (Isa. 55:12) 
 
 As we life's journey tread, 
 Though mountains loom ahead, 
 We need not faint nor fear, 
 For the hills shall disappear; 
 Lo, as we onward march along, 
 We'll find them cleft with sons:! 
 

 THE NEW YEAR 
 
 What a word is this for the glad New Year, 
 To send us forth with a heart of cheer! 
 We shall place our regnant banners here: 
 'The set of their faces was forward!" 
 
 The year spreads out as an open book, 
 There is no time for a backward look; 
 We've closed the account, a reck'ning took—
 The set of our faces is forward. 
 
 There's an upward path and a shining way, 
 A light that falls from the King of day, 
 And we shall win in the battle's fray, 
 The set of our faces is forward! 

 
 THE MESSAGE OF EASTER 
 
 In the gray down of Easter morn, 
 Joy to the world was newly born; 
 In the empty tomb and riven gloom 
 Sprang Hope—a Star-to earth illume. 
 
 In the low word which Mary stirred, 
 Such magic rang that we have heard; 
 Our names He calls and on us falls 
 The rapture that our lives enthralls. 
 
 Death's chain is broken, to us the token 
 Then to the women sweetly spoken; 
 The night is o'er, He goeth before;
 Go spread the news from shore to shore. 
 
 By lives of light, show forth the might 
 That broke the pow'r of Death that night; 
 Give every soul by sin imprison'd 
 A chance to know that Christ has risen! 


 "BECAUSE HE LIVES" 
 
 As by the death of Him who was 
       Holy and undefiled, 
 We to the Maker of mankind 
      Have now been reconciled, 
 Much more, then, by His risen life, 
      Which He so freely gives. 
 We here are conquerors in the strife; 
      We live because He lives. 
 
 As by the path of death He went 
      Fearless and undismayed, 
 We, too, within our narrow house 
      May trustingly be laid; 
 For there we shall not long abide,
      Because He ever lives. 
 We shall rise upward to His side 
       In the new life He gives. 
 
 "CHILDREN OF THE RESURRECTION” 
 (Luke 20:36) 
 
 A name all permeate with power 
 And beauteous as hte Easter flower, 
 Is that, we read, is on them called 
 Who're counted worthy of that world, 
 Rich blossom of their earth selection: 
      "Children of the resurrection." 
 
 Who dropp'd, with flesh, the ways of men 
 And rose with Him to live again— 
 Lives pure as holy angels are, 
 Sans spot, or wrinkle or a flaw, 
 By seal divine is their election: 
      "Children of the resurrection." 
 
 Offsprings, they, upon whose brow 
 Death's shadow never cometh now. 
 Of earth, once mortals' paths they trod,
 Of heaven, now the sons of God, 
 Theirs is for aye the life perfection: 
      "Children of the resurrection." 
 

 "THERE WAS DARKNESS" 
 
 The earth is bright today, 
 Because Christ went the way 
      Of Calvary. 
 The gloom and darkness there 
 Have made the whole earth fair 
 On us God's face doth shine 
 Because 'twas hid from Thine 
      On Calvary. 
 Out of Thy three hours' nig'ht 
 Has come our grace of light! 
 

 THE CHILDREN'S HOSANNAS 
 
 Christ loved their guileless praise 
      And would not them deny; 
 King of the hearts of men, He knew 
      They would not change their cry: 
 Today, hosannas on their tongues, 
      The next, "Away to die!" 
 
 Christ heard and spake to those 
      Who'd chide their joyous ways, 
 "Have ye not read 'tis said of old, 
      In David's tuneful lays, 
 That God hath chosen such as these 
      To set forth perfect praise?" 
 
 Christ knew Earth understood 
      The children's happy chorus; 
 And said that had they silent been, 
      The stones had spoken for us! 
 Oh, may we never hold our peace, 
      When the Spirit stealeth o'er us! 
 

 THE FIRST EASTER MORNING 
 
 I'm glad that women linger'd longest 
      Where "they crucified Him." 
 I'm glad their love was true and strongest 
      That they ne'er denied Him! 
 
 I'm glad that three of them were first 
      At day's faint dawning, 
 To find that He death's chains had burst 
      On earth's first Easter morning! 
 
 I'm glad it was a woman's name 
      Held His first greeting; 
 When Mary to the garden came— 
      Oh, that wondrous meeting! 
 

 THANKSGIVING 
 
 Every day, if praise be given, 
 Contains a little bit of heaven; 
 Every day if met with cheer, 
 Is just "the best day of the year." 
 
 Each hath given its full share 
 Towards the harvests rich and fair; 
 Each has kept, in tears or mirth, 
 God's ancient covenant with earth. 
 
 A twelvemonth of such wealthy days 
 Merits the Nation's song of praise; 
 Calls each soul to come away 
 And joyful keep Thanksgiving Day. 
 
 To quit the busy paths we've trod, 
 And spend at least one day with God, 
 Who says, My habitat with Israel 
 Is in the place where praises dwell. 

 
 OUR SOURCE OF STRENGTH 
 
 To live the whole year's busy length, 
      And at its close stand with the strongs 
 Upon our lips the victor's song. 
      God's joy must be our 'biding strength. 

 It sings in all the ripened grain, 
      Our golden fields from east to west, 
 With flocks and harvests richly blest, 
      Are bars of His great triumph strain. 
 
 It wells in every battle fought,
       (By tongue or pen, or by the sword, 
 That nations may with right accord) 
      Which has for lasting progress wrought. 
 
 But finds its fullest, highest chord 
      In those who, following His ways, 
 Have made their lives a psalm of praise, 
      As daily walked they with their Lord! 
 
 Thus our whole great nation's strength 
      Lies in the things of God's delight: 
 In Mercy, Justice, Truth and Right, 
      Throughout her breadth and border's length. 
 

 WHEN THE HEART KEEPS CHRISTMAS 
 
 Still there shines that glory light, 
 Which made the skies so passing bright 
 Upon that far-off Holy Night, 
           When the heart keeps Christmas. 
 
 Still unto our Lord and King, 
 We, as the Wise Men, haste to bring 
 Our costliest and most precious thing. 
           When the heart keeps Christmas. 
 
 Still to all who 'round us dwell. 
 With glad and reverent lips we tell 
 The tidings of ''Emanuel"— 
           When the heart keeps Christmas. 
 

 THE HEART OF CHRISTMAS 
 
 'Twere sad indeed at Christmas time,
 With all the sleigh-bells' merry chime,
 The auto's noisy puff and gong, 
 To fail to catch the angel's song. 
 
 But sadder still to have our eyes 
 So chained to what about us lies; 
 To raise them not for the vision higher, 
 The radiance of that heavenly choir. 
 
 Saddest, if seeking here and there 
 For Christmas bargains cheap and rare;
 For gifts to make our fellow men, 
 We miss the road to Bethlehem. 
 
 For then, indeed, the hymn would cease 
 Ere we had caught its note of Peace; 
 And, missing the chant, the sight sublime, 
 We'd lose the heart of Christmas-time. 

 
 MARY'S PART 
 
 To the shepherds came the music 
      Of that seraphic angel throng,
 That made the plains of Bethlehem 
      Reverberate with their song. 
 Theirs, too, was the joy of seeing, 
      When the angels had gone away, 
 The Babe, who, as 'twas told them, 
      In a lowly manger lay. 
 But, more blest than outward vision, 
      Or the rustle of angel wings, 
 Is that word one said of Mary: 
      She ponder’d and "kept these things." 
 
 For the sweetest song hath ending, 
      And the vision will not stay; 
 But the gain of once-heard music 
      Lies just in Mary's way. 
 To the inner ear of the Spirit 
      Will come that wondrous song, 
 And its words of joy and comfort 
      Their bliss for aye prolong 
 Thro' the common days that follow 
      'Midst cold traffic's busy mart, 
 If our is the stored-up treasure 
      And Mary's pondering part. 
 

 GOD'S GIFT 
 
 Oh, friends, who also have started 
      On the road to the City of Light, 
 Let us keep, in rapture, clear-hearted, 
      The memory of that "Holy Night." 
 When a Saviour to mortals was given; 
      When the clouds with joy were riven 
 As the heavenly visitants came, 
      Out of a brightness aflame. 
 To make known the infant's name; 
      And all Earth's corners to fill 
 With peace to men and good will! 
      Aye, these are the things in December, 
 We love, best of all, to remember. 
      May we never from their anchorage drift, 
 But keep fast hold of God's Gift! 


MISCELLANEOUS 

 
 ROBERT BROWNING 
 (May 7, 1912; born May 7, 1812) 
 
 The Joy that sees the roses, 
      Jeweled with heavenly dew; 
 The bloom that May discloses, 
      Beauteous for me and you; 
 
 The Love that's lyric-human, 
      Euterpe's rarest wine, 
 That fiinds its "Star" in woman, 
      Its Christ, the One Divine; 
 
 The Faith that walks "breast forward," 
      Bouyantly the emerald sod; 
 That meets Death as no coward, 
      Clear-eyed, so "sure of God"; 
 
 Are ours because one morning, 
      A century's flight away, 
 To earth came Robert Browning. 
      In the "blossom month" of May. 
 

 THE CLUB WOMAN 
 
 Hers to fill the vacant place 
      And do the thing that none else sees; 
 To all life's vexing problems face 
      And many an unfair burden ease; 
 
 To stand beside the working girl, 
      And all who, silent, suffer wrong; 
 To soften commerce's busy whirl 
      With just a little bit of song; 
 
 To be in home, in church and state 
      A power that ever makes for good, 
 Whose purpose is to elevate 
      And nobler make all womanhood; 
 
 To so enlarge the mind and eye 
      That life, tho' immanent with Duty, 
 Over it the humblest may descry 
      The perfect rainbow arc of Beauty; 
 
 To have it broadly understood, 
      Thro' ways that seem but purely human, 
 That naught which makes for sisterhood 
      Is foreign to the true club woman. 
 

 ROBIN REDBREAST 
 (Written for a little child) 
 
 Robin Redbreast the other day
 Came with merry notes to say: 
 "Winter's snow has gone away." 
 He lighted on my garden fence, 
 And twittered cheerily from thence; 
 So glad was he that it was Spring, 
 He couldn't tarry long to sing, 
 But soon again was on the wing; 
 For, having news so very good, 
 He flew to tell the neighborhood; 
 While I was very glad that he 
 Had cheered me with his company; 
 That sight of him I had not miss'd, 
 Being on Red Robin's calling list! 
 

 ANNIVERSARY SONG 
 TUNE: "Battle Hymn of the Republic." 
 (Written for and sung at Detroit Y.W.C.A. February, 1916.) 
 
 To-day we have a sisterhood that wide its flag unfurls, 
 And sends afar its bugle note to ever-widening worlds, 
 Because fifty years ago there was some one who thought of girls! 
 We girls are marching on. 
 
                          CHORUS : 
       Praise Jehovah for our founders! 
       Praise Jehovah for our founders! 
       Praise Jehovah for our founders! 
       We girls are marching on! 
 
 To shield them from the Tempter who so swift  his arrow hurls, 
 And daily seeks to them engulf in follies' madd'ning whirls, 
 Just fifty years ago there was some one who thought of girls! 
 We girls are marching on ! 
 
 To show those hours have enterprise that're girt with song of merles, 
 To teach them how to work aright and seek all goodly pearls, 
 Just fifty years ago this month somebody thought of girls! 
 We girls are marching on! 
 
 ANNIVERSARY HYMN* 
 TUNE: "How Sweet the Name of Jesus Sounds." 
 
 We meet within this sacred place, 
      Rich with our hopes and fears, 
 Glad sons of Ethiopia's race, 
      To mark a hundred years. 
 
 Since Allen, our great founder, stood 
      On that historic day, 
 For Christ and human brotherhood 
      To all who own His sway. 
 
 Thro' fire and flood and slav'ry's night, 
      Within a weary land, 
 Our Zion proved a beacon light, 
      Her priests a helping hand. 
 
 So beautiful their rev'rent feet, 
      As they the Gospel spread, 
 'Tis ours to catch its martial beat, 
      The music of their tread! 
 
 To-day upon this hallowed ground, 
      To crown our jubilee, 
 We'd own, with fervor newly found, 
  The Man of Galilee! 
 
 *Written in honor of the 100th Anniversary of the 
 founding of the African Methodist Episcopal Church 
 by Richard Allen, at Philadelphia, 1816. 

 
 OUR TERCENTENARY  
 (1620-1920) 
 
 Three wonder-holden centuries have flown 
 Since first we claimed this country as our own; 
 O, Spirit Divine, we pray Thee on us come, 
 Forbid that they should pass us silent, dumb; 
 But may we see, as writ in living fire, 
 Some thrilling word that shall all hearts inspire 
 Thrown 'cross the scroll of each one hundred years, 
 Which mark a Nation's growth—its hopes and fears. 
 To fittingly epitomize and vocal make 
 These bygone centuries—a torch to onward take! 
 
 This trinity of cycles, we reverently would say 
 First, shows us God the Father who led the Pilgrims all the way 
 As they in work and worship as comrades bravely stood, 
 We read its living message in the great word— 
                BROTHERHOOD! 
 Then seeing God, the Son, who truly makes men free, 
 With pen immersed in crimson we spelled out 
                LIBERTY! 
 The closing of the triad brings us to this hour 
 And with awed gaze we read the Spirit's gift 
                of POWER! 
 
 Yet, God of our fathers, we cannot fully celebrate 
 Until we know this land once more is consecrate 
 To God, the Father of us all, 
 To the Anointed One, who knows no great and no small. 
 And to the Holy Ghost who would send us onward from this hour, 
 A mighty nation—clothed with living Power. 
 

 "THE WINGS OF THE MORNING." 
 
 They are pinions zepher blown 
 From some far-off seraph zone; 
 They are unseen ships of air, 
 That will waft us otherwhere. 
 
 They are cherub chariots free 
 To the utmost paths of sea, 
 Waiting each diurnal round 
 On our Fancy "outward bound." 


 A WINTER PICTURE 
 
 Oh, the sunlight on the snow! 
 And the little twigs aglow! 
 Thro' the wooing of Jack Frost 
 All uncomeliness is lost, 
 When a winter morning's sun 
 Smiles on what the night has done. 
 
 Oh, the sunlight on the snow! 
 And the barren shrubs aglow! 
 Tis a beauty close at hand, 
 For the parks are fairyland, 
 And trees yester'eve so bare 
 Now crystal pennants wear! 
 
 Oh, pity those who do not know 
 The charm of sunlight on the snow; 
 Whose sun-kiss'd eyes have never seen 
 The trees in all their wintry sheen! 

 
 ANNIVERSARY HYMN 
 (Celebrating the 80th Anniversary of the founding of Bethel A.M.E. Church, Detroit., Michigan, May 29, 1921.) 
 
 TUNE: "Federal Street, L.M." 
 
 When we reflect on all God's ways, 
       His dealings with our Zion here, 
 We can but lift our hearts in praise 
       For blessings on each passing year. 
 
 For all the countless deeds of love, 
       For victories His grace hath brought, 
 We grateful lift our eyes above 
        And humbly cry, "What hath God wrought!" 
 
 For eighty years our Bethel's kept 
       The faith, once given to the saints, 
 Spotless and pure, though oft she's wept, 
       And upward sent her tears and plaints. 
 
 From small beginnings we have grown, 
       From days of debt and hours of stress, 
 Till lo! we now this temple own, 
       And here two thousand Christ confess! 
 
 We thank God that He keeps her still, 
       And calls this Bethel—House of God; 
 With forward look to do Thy will 
       We follow where our fathers trod! 

 
 "SCHOOL, DRIVE SLOWLY”
 
 A little sign in white and red, 
       Designed and set most duly, 
 To check autoists, speeding ahead, 
       Reads: "School, drive slowly." 
 
 That little ones to daily tasks 
       May safely go and wholly, 
 The City warns and frequent asks 
       This: "School, drive slowly." 
 
 A little sign, when thought controls, 
       Is writ 'cross life most truly; 
 Lest injury should hap to souls, 
       Heed: "School, drive slowly." 
 

 LOST—OUR LITTLE GIRLS 
 
 What's become of little girls 
       Who used to wear such pretty dresses, 
 That they've lost all but their curls— 
       And loss of these ofttimes distresses? 
 
 What's become of little girls? 
       They don't look dainty any more; 
 So early shaped to fashion's whirls, 
       They'll ne'er be women at the core! 

 When you see the tots at play, 
       Which is Sally, which is Jim? 
 For your life you couldn't say, 
       Though your eyesight isn't dim. 
 
 O, Dame Fashion, keep your sway, 
       If you must, 'mid social whirls: 
 But restore Ye Olden Day— 
       Give us back our little girls! 

 
 OUR FLAG 
 (June 14, 1777, to June 14, 1914) 
 
 Banner of our country's magnificent domain, 
 We hail thy anniversary that comes to us again! 
 Proudly we review these one hundred and odd years 
 Since at a cost unreckon'd of precious blood and tears, 
 Liberty and Right proclaimed their sovran sway, 
 And, sweeping the might of crowned heads away, 
 Unfurled a new Republic's sacred ensign here, 
 And lit the lamp of Progress on this western hemisphere. 
 
 Flag that proudly waves from east to western sea, 
 Thrice baptized in crimson by thy passion to be free! 
 Thine ideal a nation where all men equal are, 
 And each is reprsented in his state's resplendent star. 
 Oh, still this soil is hallow'd long as thy starry folds 
 Wave grandly over veterans of the days that tried men's souls; 
 To-day before a patriot would see thy laurel's less, 
 He to the steel of conflict would bare his loyal breast; 
 In this high expectation which doth each bosom thrill— 
 That all "thy ancient glory shall play about thee still!" 
 

 THE SYMBOL OF THE RED CROSS 
 
 They've hungry children fed 
 Where bullets terror spread, 
 That's why their cross is red! 
 
 Their steps in mercy led 
 Where human blood was shed, 
 That's why their cross is red! 
 
 They've words of comfort sped 
 To souls to sorrow wed, 
 That's why their cross is red! 
 
 They've the glad Evangel read 
 Beside the soldier's bed, 
 That's why their cross is red! 
 
 "To serve," I came, Christ said, 
 He who on Calvary bled; 
 That's why their cross is red!

 
 A WAR-TIME PRAYER—1917. 
 
 Father, in heaven, Thy purposes prove, 
 Through the dark shadows, may we feel Thy love! 
 Christ, our Redeemer, who alone sets men free, 
 Guide, guard our soldiers, who cross the blue sea! 
 Tried in war's furnace, may the fires refine; 
 Called on to suffer, may we not repine; 
 Purg'd of our vanity, shorn of our pride; 
 Out from the trenches, we'd rise purified;
 Let democracy's triumph, distinctions efface, 
 All men be brothers, regardless of race!
 
 
 THE SOURCE OF WARS 
 (James 4:1) 
 
 "Whence come wars?" the apostle cries, 
       In eager wish to set men's eyes 
 On those secret hidden things 
       From which trouble constant springs. 

 Come they not, as flame from embers, 
       From those lusts within your members? 
 Hidden far from human gaze, 
       In your hearts, there starts the blaze. 
 
 Coverings of another's wealth,
       Desire to take his land by stealth, 
 Marshal hosts no gas nor high grenade 
       With strength to kill hath e'er been made. 

 Church of God, just here's your place: 
       War's not vanquish'd save by grace; 
 If you would "leadership" maintain, 
       Tell the OLD STORY o'er again! 
 

 WHEN THE HEART KEEPS CHRISTMAS 
 
 Still there shines that glory light, 
 Which made the skies so passing bright 
 Upon that far-off Holy Night, 
       When the heart keeps Christmas. 
 
 Still unto our Lord and King, 
 We, as the Wise Men, haste to bring 
 Our costliest and most precious thing, 
       When the heart keeps Christmas. 
 
 Still to all who 'round us dwell, 
 With glad and reverent lips we tell 
 The tidings of "Emanuel,"— 
       When the heart keeps Christmas.