SPEAK BUT KIND WORDS.
Speak but kind words to those you love,
For there may come a day
When what you’ve said, and what you’ve done
E’er more will with you stay.
If you have unkind words to say,
O say them to the dead;
The dead cannot by them be grieved,
Their hearts not filled with dread.
Nor filled with fear and hopelessness.—
And you will not regret
That you have caused unhappiness.
For you can ne’er forget
That you have caused a loved one grief,
Your words have given pain.
You never can forgive yourself,
And Love you may have slain.
A word seems but a little thing,
But it may break a heart,
Though thought is but a vapor light,
It causes many a smart.
It is the little pin pricks sharp
That are so hard to bear.
We are prepared for troubles great,
And only have our share.
Then speak kind words to those you love,
It is not hard to do.
Just keep a guard o’er thoughts, and tongue,
Then you’ll have naught to rue.
When death shall come to those we love,
If we have caused them pain,
Repentance then will be too late,
Regrets will then be vain.
VAGARY.
Vagary is stalking all over the land,
His home is a hut, or a palace most grand.
Whatever his folly, no matter how wild,
Some one will accept it, by it, be beguiled.
Vagary once built a “Home” on a hill,
And hoped that his dupes his coffers would fill.
This “Home” was a refuge for those in distress,
And, judging by numbers, it was a success.
He promised a cure for each ache, and each ill.
With lame, halt, and blind, the “Home” did soon fill.
Vagary was doctor, vagary was nurse,
And if at the door stood ever a hearse,
No comment was made, and it soon disappeared.
Respect had Vagary, and no one e’er sneered.
Vagary was doctor, and if patient he killed
No one made remark, and the place was soon filled.
Vagary discovered an underground mine
Called “Bonnevinterre” a lake of pure wine.
“Like sheep to the slaughter,” the people all rushed,
The mine proved a myth, and their hopes were all crushed.
Vagary then started a charity scheme,
To write all the bylaws took a full ream
Of “Fool’s Cap” commercial; for written thereon
Were benefits gained, and dividends won.
“O help the poor widows and orphans” he cried,
And money flowed in on every side.
Vagary was treasurer, and bookkeeper too,
Received all the dividends when they were due.
The widows got little, the orphans still less,
He ever was talking of their great distress.
Vagary grew richer, and richer each day,
For charity well managed, ever will pay.
He next discovered a marvelous light,
Compared to it, e’en the sun was as night.
Directly all other lights became dim,
As usual, the money poured in unto him.
He now with the highest magnates took rank,
For money he had in every bank.
But magnates, like others, sometime must die,
And in the same earth with poverty lie.
Vagary grew ill, and gave up the ghost,
But with his last breath he still made the boast
That every ill on earth he could cure.
And even though dying, did many allure.
THE HOME BEAUTIFUL.
’Tis not a palace built of marble,
’Tis not a mansion made of stone,
’Tis not a hostelry of splendor,
Nor a seat upon a throne.
It may be but a humble cottage
With loving welcome at the door,
With sunshine peeping in at window,
And lighting up the naked floor.
It may be but a tent by brookside,
But air is pure, and water sweet.
The tent is home of rarest splendor,
If Love, by brookside, doth you greet.
’Tis love that gives to home its beauty,
It is not honor, riches, fame.
For Love will light up every corner,
In home of beauty is Love’s name.
THE BEATITUDES.
Once Honesty and Faith combined
To find for each a mate.
They searched for Love all in vain,
They only found fierce Hate.
Forever Love eluded them;
For Love is hard to win.
They gave up Love, and searched for Faith,
For Faith, to Love is kin.
When Faith and Honesty are wed,
If Love will place her seal,
Confirmed is then the marriage vow,
From it there’s no appeal
When Love, and Truth, and Honesty,
In wedded life is found;
When Faith shall be their handmaid pure,
The four together bound;
There will be Peace and Harmony,
For Love has found her nest.
Now Happiness will join the throng,
And Love be now at rest.
It is too seldom that is found,
Them all combined in one,
There could be Faith, Truth, Honesty,
And yet sweet Love not won.
But if together all shall dwell,
A heaven on earth is home,
No discord ever will there be,
It is as heaven’s dome.
BURY THE PAST.
Do we ever think that others
May have griefs as well as we?
Can we bear our own griefs better?
If we know we’ll sometime be
Free from trials, free from troubles,
In the happy by and by,
And our burdens, although heavy,
In a grave will sometime lie.
We should be prepared for trouble;
We should be prepared for care.
For we know not of the morrow,
Nor what trials we must bear.
When today has passed beyond us
It is gone forever, aye,
And today should then be buried
In the grave of yesterday.
Though today we are in bondage,
We tomorrow may be free
From the yesterdays of sorrow;
E’en look back on them with glee.
Then the dead, dead past we’ll bury
In a shroud, and then forget
All the past that was unhappy
O’er that past we will not fret.
We can happy be, though burdens
May be hard for us to bear,
Happy be, and e’en contented,
Though we have much grief and care.
If we know that the tomorrows
Will to us bring sweet relief.
All the yesterdays we’ll bury,
And will shed no tears of grief.