Poems Teachers Ask For, Book Two. Various
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of men.
You can change the fate of nations
By the stroke of one small pen.
Towser made one last long effort,
Caught John Henry by the pants,
But John Henry kept on running
For he thought that his last chance.
But the maiden held on firmly,
And the rope was drawn up tight.
But old Towser kept the garments,
For he was not tied that night.
Then the father hears the racket;
With long strides he soon is there,
When John Henry and the maiden,
Crouching, for the worst prepare.
At his feet John tells his story,
Shows his clothing soiled and torn;
And his face so sad and pleading,
Yet so white and scared and worn,
Touched the old man's heart with pity,
Filled his eyes with misty light.
"Take her, boy, and make her happy,—
Towser shall be tied to-night."
Law and Liberty
O Liberty, thou child of Law,
God's seal is on thy brow!
O Law, her Mother first and last,
God's very self art thou!
Two flowers alike, yet not alike,
On the same stem that grow,
Two friends who cannot live apart,
Yet seem each other's foe.
One, the smooth river's mirrored flow
Which decks the world with green;
And one, the bank of sturdy rock
Which hems the river in.
O Daughter of the timeless Past,
O Hope the Prophets saw,
God give us Law in Liberty
And Liberty in Law!
His Mother's Song
Beneath the hot midsummer sun
The men had marched all day,
And now beside a rippling stream
Upon the grass they lay.
Tiring of games and idle jest
As swept the hours along,
They cried to one who mused apart,
"Come, friend, give us a song."
"I fear I can not please," he said;
"The only songs I know
Are those my mother used to sing
For me long years ago."
"Sing one of those," a rough voice cried.
"There's none but true men here;
To every mother's son of us
A mother's songs are dear."
Then sweetly rose the singer's voice
Amid unwonted calm:
"Am I a soldier of the Cross,
A follower of the Lamb?
And shall I fear to own His cause?"
The very stream was stilled,
And hearts that never throbbed with fear,
With tender thoughts were filled.
Ended the song, the singer said,
As to his feet he rose,
"Thanks to you all, my friends; goodnight.
God grant us sweet repose."
"Sing us one more," the captain begged.
The soldier bent his head,
Then, glancing round, with smiling lips,
"You'll join with me?" he said.
"We'll sing that old familiar air
Sweet as the bugle call,
'All hail the power of Jesus' name!
Let angels prostrate fall.'"
Ah, wondrous was the old tune's spell.
As on the soldiers sang;
Man after man fell into line,
And loud the voices rang.
The songs are done, the camp is still,
Naught but the stream is heard;
But, ah! the depths of every soul
By those old hymns are stirred,
And up from many a bearded lip,
In whispers soft and low,
Rises the prayer that mother taught
Her boy long years ago.
When Father Carves the Duck
We all look on with anxious eyes
When Father carves the duck,
And Mother almost always sighs
When Father carves the duck;
Then all of us prepare to rise
And hold our bibs before our eyes,
And be prepared for some surprise
When Father carves the duck.
He braces up and grabs the fork,
Whene'er he carves the duck,
And won't allow a soul to talk
Until he carves the duck.
The fork is jabbed into the sides,
Across the breast the knife he slides,
While every careful person hides
From flying chips of duck.
The platter's always sure to slip
When Father carves the duck,
And how it makes the dishes skip—
Potatoes fly amuck.
The squash and cabbage leap in space,
We get some gravy in our face,
And Father mutters Hindoo grace
Whene'er he carves a duck.
We then have learned to walk around
The dining room and pluck
From off the window-sills and walls
Our share of Father's duck.
While Father growls and blows and jaws,
And swears the knife was full of flaws,
And Mother laughs at him because
He couldn't carve a duck.
Papa's Letter
I was sitting in my study,
Writing letters when I heard,
"Please, dear mamma, Mary told me
Mamma mustn't be 'isturbed.
"But I'se tired of the kitty,
Want some ozzer fing to do.
Witing letters, is 'ou, mamma?
Tan't I wite a letter