Poems

by Crocket McElroy

They tell me that Heaven is grand,
A beautiful and happy land,
Imagination hath its dream,
And unknown things delightful seem;
I ask no land more grand than this,
Where babies live to swell our bliss,
With sickness out this world would be,
A happy land for all like me.
Her father’s pride, her grandma’s pet,
My darling Flora’s Margaret.

THE RICH, SWEET SOUND OF THE HUMAN VOICE.

Many sounds are heard by the human ear,
Sounds that are delicate, or loud and clear,
The rustling of leaves by the gentle breeze,
Or the hurricane crashing thru the trees;
Sounds in the mountains and sounds on the sea
And sounds wherever man happens to be;
But of all known sounds the sound of man’s choice
Is the rich, sweet sound of the human voice.

The sweet little birds can charm by the hour,
By the songs they sing with all their power,
How freely they stretch their dear little throats
As they pour out floods of delicious notes,
And few are the sounds man ever has heard,
More pleasing to him than songs of the bird,
And still he can say, the sound of his choice,
Is the rich, sweet sound of the human voice.

The cracking bud of the bursting flower,
The spattering rain drops from the shower,
The bark of the dog when he barks in play,
The rumble of wheels on the hard highway,
The babble of brooks as they run along,
And the cataract’s never ending song;
Are sounds that are cheering, and still man’s choice,
Is the rich, sweet sound of the human voice.

The rattle of war when great armies clash,
The howling tornado’s terrible crash,
The splashing of waves on the ocean shore,
The startling grandeur of the thunder’s roar,
The alarming sound of the cannon’s boom,
And the bursting volcano threat’ning doom;
Are sounds that are thrilling, but still man’s choice,
Is the rich, sweet sound of the human voice.

The sweet violin in a master’s hand,
Gives delightful music at his command;
It is made to imitate many sounds,
That man often hears in his daily rounds,
(The human voice and the warble of birds,)
And to almost express these sounds in words;
But tho ’tis charming, the sound of man’s choice,
Is the rich, sweet sound of the human voice.

The pianoforte can delight and please,
When a Paderewski fingers the keys;
The great church organ has inspiring notes,
That expand the music from human throats;
The cornet’s shrill notes are stirring and clear,
And fill the music loving soul with cheer;
But of all known sounds the sound of man’s choice,
Is the rich, sweet sound of the human voice.

The martial music of the fife and drum,
That calls the nation’s defenders to come,
And the thrilling chorus brass bands produce,
Are grand when applied to the country’s use,
Even the bagpipe’s persistent humming,
Is sweet when it means relief is coming,
But nevertheless the sound of man’s choice,
Is the rich, sweet sound of the human voice.