Two sweet lumps of sugar fell
Into that small china well,
But I knew the while I drained
Every drop the cup contained,
More than sugar in the tea
Made the beverage sweet for me.
This to her I tried to say
In that golden yesterday—
Life is like a cup of tea
Which Time poureth endlessly,
Brewed by trial's constant heat,
Needing love to make it sweet.
Then I caught her looking up,
And I held my dainty cup
Out to her and bravely said:
"Here is all that lies ahead,
Here is all my life to be—
Will you make it sweet for me?"
That was years ago, and now
There is silver in her brow;
We have sorrowed, we have smiled,
We've been hurt and reconciled—
But whatever had to be,
She has made it sweet for me.
The Inspiration of the Past
When melancholy rides the sky and fills
The distance with her dust of gloom and doubt,
And from despair there seems no gateway out;
When the cold blast of disappointment chills
The green young buds of hope and the once rosy hills
Stand gaunt, forbidding battlements, too stout
For faltering strength to master, ere it kills
Faith in high purpose, turn your face about.
Search the great past, the ages that have gone;
Pause and reflect by some remembered grave;
At Valley Forge once more with Washington,
Learn what it means to suffer and be brave.
Or stand with patient Lincoln and believe
That what is right, its purpose shall achieve.
The Waiter