CAP AND BELLS
(To F.)
In Life’s masquerade the disguises are many:
Here’s a man masquerading as Wealth,
Wears a million of gold,
But a pauper, I’m told,
He hasn’t a penny of health.
Here comes a Beggar, in tatters and rags,
Masking as Poverty old.
He may look the part,
But the wealth in his heart,
Makes him richer than Croesus in gold.
The costumes are varied disguises beguiling
That cover the true man beneath
One wears learned looks,
That he’s borrowed from books
And a co-operative laurel wreath.
And still another pretending a clown,
In make-up the silliest Fool,
But his knowledge of men,
Is beyond the ken
Of a sage of the orthodox school.
There are millions of others in Life’s Motley Masque
Who follow the art of mime.
They mimic and play
At mockery today,
But they never fool Old Father Time.
PATCHWORK QUILT
A Patchwork Quilt,
Industrious name.
Once it was not quite the same.
A different fame,
A “Crazy Quilt,”
Same foolish dame
Entitled you.
It was sorry fame.
Life is like that,
We do not see
How little bits
Make harmony—
It’s up to man to take each bit
Of happiness and make it fit.
But if he takes and doesn’t dwell
Upon the pattern—Well, it’s Hell!
A crazy quilt the name’s O. K.
But start a patchwork quilt today.
(To A. M.)
The sky is the mirror that reflects all phases of Life. The clouds of Doubt bring showers, but there is always the “Silver Lining” promise.