Raymond Danowsk
Poetry Library
EMORY
UNPOLISHED
TRUTHS
a selection of poems
BY
Mrs. Anna Shields
TO
REV. WALTER DORSEY McCLANE
RECTOR OF
ST. BARTHOLOMEW'S CHURCH
THIS FIRST EDITION OF MY POEMS
IS
AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED
Author of
BEACON LIGHTS OF HOME
Individual Poems
ijpaurn'e Abolie
Where is Heaven ? I mused one day.
A quick answer made me start:
" Heaven is not far away,
Heaven is in the heart."
Where is God's House ? again I asked.
The answer thrilled me through;
Spirits, their mantles 'bout me cast,
Whispered: " Saint Bartholomew's."
Oh, blessed house, where God abides,
Refuge from every ill,
Within thy walls oh, let us glide
And our hearts so empty fill!
With the essence of Thy holy love
Let us stronger grow and pure,
Till Heaven within each heart doth show
Saint Bartholomew's godly power.
4
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
Sty* Sartor's (guild
I once was heartsick and weary,
Within and without I was ill.
All the world seemed lonely and dreary,
My eyes oft with tears would fill.
As I envied the cheerful expression
Of the people I met on the way,
" My child, why this depression ? "
Said the Redtor to me one day.
" Why sit back and nurse your sorrow?
Why grieve o'er the days that are past?
God gives you each day a tomorrow;
In what will your next be cast ?
Give honor to the blessings He gives you,
Look up and obey his will,
Start now, let nothing delay you,
Come join the Redtor's Guild.
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
5
I tremblingly paused on the threshold,
Undecided which way to turn,
But loving hearts beckoned me onward,
I found that which I had long for yearned;
I found there the way to the Master,
How to worship in praise at His feet;
My lagging steps went faster
To enjoy His presence sweet.
I found the way to be holy
Was to minister to the poor ;
If I saw one weak and lowly,
To open my heart's door.
I learned how to give and, when giving,
Not grudgingly, but with open hand,
I learned to give praise to the living,
I learned to be noble and grand.
And now, as I muse of the Redtor,
With tears of gladness my eyes are filled;
I found new life, my dark roads made bright,
By the influence of the Redtor's Guild.
Long may he father his children !
None other his place could fill;
When the dead shall awake, my place I'll take
In that loved circle, the Redtor's Guild.
6
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
fHotbrr
There is a word, a precious word,
The grandest, sweetest ever heard
In palace fair or prison cage,
In infancy or hoary age,
That magic word is Mother.
When sick with fever, tossed with pain.
When troubles shower down like rain,
When friends from you sadly turn,
When your heart in anguish yearns,
None can comfort you like mother.
Then let us show with gentle grace,
As on her face deep lines we trace,
That we her value novy esteem ;
Let nothing from us.eyer. wean
Our love for dearest mother.
And when at last, her hands are crossed
On that quiet bosbm once tempest tossed,
We'll know she's not dead, but sweetly sleeps,
And o'er us she'll her vigils keep,
Till we are called to be with mother.
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
7
(Hum QHjougtfta
Upon the breeze, one pleasant morn,
In beauty rare a thought was borne.
So sweet, so pure, it touched the soul
Of a traveler ; led him to his goal.
And he in turn with love inspired,
Cheered other pilgrims heartsick, tired,
It entwined, revolved, and, endless chain,
In radiance it came home again.
And upon that self same morn,
Upon the breeze a thought was borne,
So cruel, heartless, reckless, cold,
It blasted a weary yearning soul.
It barred him from the mountain heights.
His every effort was a blight,
Left him. a wreck by the wayside high,
It too came home; but 'twas to die.
Dear comrades, let us search our souls,
Let us weigh well the thoughts we mould,
Let innocence, and lofty thoughts,
Be with our actions daily fraught.
8
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
®h? PrtrrlPHH (gift
What more can I give you, child of mine ?
I have given you wealth and power;
All the goods the land has in store are thine:
What can you ask for more ?
Nations bow at your command,
You've climbed to the topmost round
Of the ladder of fame; but there you stand
And look in sadness down.
Yes, Father. I know I am king of the earth ;
All the powers of the land I control.
About my loins is the vidtor's girth,
I turn all I touch into gold ;
Men gaze on me in envy and awe,
They call me a magnate, a wonder;
In my dealings with them they pick no flaw,
They think me incapable of blunder ;
But is there one who longs for a glance of my eye ?
Is there one who would grieve if I fall ?
Is there one to miss me when I die ?
Is there one to. hear my heart's call ?
No, I want love, father, love. Open the door of my heart
Long closed against all that of love is a part;
Take all that I have and give to the poor,
And give me but love: I will not ask for more.
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
©ppurtunity Hatting
Did you ever stop and listen
To the murmur of the leaves ?
When the radiant sunlight glistens,
And the soft caressing breeze
Lingers on your brow, so tender,
Like a soft hand's gentle touch,
As, in days gone by, it used to render
Peace, when the way seemed to rough.
If you'd stopped and listened closely,
As the leaves swayed to and fro,
You'd have heard the voices, ghostly
Telling what you wished to know.
You'd have heard the Angels whisper:
Child of sorrow, courage take !
Opportunity is yours, don't miss her ;
Long has she struggled at your gate.
Locked with doubts and vain excuses,
Negligence, vainglory, pride,
Yofi've met her efforts with abuses ;
All your good resolves have died."
There in the trees the Angels whisper
To the sighing of the leaves:
Opportunity is yours : don't miss her,"
And echo wafts it to the breeze.
10
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
SfoUfyrr So 3 (Contemn
" Neither do I condemn thee,"
Said the Saviour with loving gaze
To the woman, when men had pressed Him
To condemn her evil ways.
Neither do I condemn thee;
Go in peace and sin no more,"
Is the lesson we should teach
And practice o'er and o'er.
Oh, wonderful the compassion
That swelled that Holy breast!
Ignoring creed and fashion,
With graft and guilt behest,
His righteous eye beheld not
The body racked with shame ;
The welfare of his soul was what
He was reaching out to gain.
Neither do I condemn thee,
My comrade in life's war;
Perhaps, moulded in your pattern,
I could have done no more
Than stumble and fall by the wayside
And your pitying gaze implore.
Let us say each to the other :
" Go in peace and sin no more."
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
U
Druth 3b ITlliat lUr iHahr 3t
Why do we start and fear to die ?
Death is the easiest part.
I've often wondered, yet know not why
At the mention of death we start.
It is .easy to die but hard to live,
For life is the working room
Where we prepare ourselves to give
Our account beyond the tomb.
So it lies with you to rejoice or fear
When the summons comes to go.
If you've sown your seed with prayers and tears
A rich harvest you will mow.
Your arms will be filled with golden grain
As before your King you stand;
But if you've sown with reckless brain
You'll stand condemned with empty hand.
So think not of death as an awful fiend
To be dreaded, shunned, and despised,
But think of it rather as a friend who will wean
You from earth to paradise.
f2
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
UMrkingljam $)UIH
Come, let us go up to Buckingham hills,
With its shady valley and rippling rills,
The fields of hay and long waving corn
That stand like giants, so tall and strong.
Come, let us go up to Buckhingham hills,
Shake off dull care and worrying ill's ;
Its glorious mountains, so grand and free,
Offer a haven of rest to you and me.
The air you breathe on Buckingham hills
Restores your health, as your lungs you fill.
Get next to Nature: 'tis God's free gift,
And your voice in gracious praises lift.
Pure hearts have the people of Buckingham hills,
They toil the soil with hearty good will,
They love each other as God demands,
And give to the stranger a welcoming hand.
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
13
Though a stranger I am forced to roam,
Hither and thither, so far from home,
When I am through with life and its ills,
Pray carry me back to Buckingham hills.
Far up the mountains so grand and free,
Lay me to rest 'neath a willow tree,
Where all day long the sweet birds trill
Their carols of joy on Buckingham hills.
And in that great morning when all shall awake,
At the trumpet sound the mountains shall shake;
I shall be first to meet Him and bow to His will,
For I shall be near Him on Buckingham hills.
;14
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
iHg Wistj
If wishes could be passed around,
I would not ask for a robe and crown,
A seat of prestige or renown;
I would ask for the spirit of Charity.
Charity suffereth long and is kind,
To her children's faults is ofttimes blind;
When you seek you will always find
A fountain of love in Charity.
She is not puffed up or with pride intent,
On errands of mercy is always bent;
Hearts with sorrow and trouble rent
Find a refuge sure in Charity.
Charity is strong. No storm can withstand
The grasp of her unyielding hand;
She holds you firm as an iron band;
A wall of defense is Charity.
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
Seeketh not her own or content is she
To sit in peace by her own fig tree;
From the borders of the land to the depths of the sea
Stalks the seeking spirit of Charity.
Endureth all things, even death at the stake,
Will gladly die for her standard's sake;
Though you kill the body you cannot take
From her the spirit of Charity.
Hopeth all things, is not dismayed
Though by her followers is betrayed.
She is true to her trust, is not afraid
To trust all to the powers of Charity.
Give us this gift, oh dearest Lord !
We will proclaim in one accord:
Let others their earthly treasures hoard,
We are richer than they in Charity.
16
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
Uljpn tljp Angela Qlmirtj ilje
" Tell me, mother, tell me, please,
When the Angels touch the keys,"
Said a child who could not see,
As she leaned against her mother's knee.
Her sightless orbs seemed filled with light;
It was hard to believe there was no sight.
Her mother whispered with a sigh:
" There is no one here but you and I."
" But, mother dear, you cannot see!
Why! they come so close to me,
I can tell just where they stand,
I could almost touch their hand.
But I fear they'd fly away,
And I want them so to stay!
When I play my favorite song
They seem to guide my hand along.
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
17
When you play, oh mother dear,
Then they seem so very near;
Now, won't you tell me, mother, please,
When the Angels touch the keys ? "
God called His little jewel home;
The mother cried : ■' Thy Will be done!"
She knows now, when she plays her song,
Her daughter guides her hand along.
And so with us, if we could see,
When the Angels touch the keys
Of our souls, then would we find,
Ere they touched them, we were blind.
And oh, for faith that sees the light
Through the darkness of the night!
Then, like Her, we'd wish to see
When the Angels touch the keys.
18
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
Qltjir* iEnemtra
Lord, save us from Passion, Malice, and Strife,
Three things that cut deeper than the deadliest knife.
They make cankerous wounds, unhealing ;
They sap your virtues, your honor, your life,
And keep the heart's wound ever bleeding,
In the hour of passion, lift our eyes to the Cross,
And remembering Calvary, count all things lost
That make His death unavailing.
When our tongue would speak malice in temper tossed,
May our words be in peace, not in railing.
Let us strive not to hinder, as onward we go.
If we would reap happiness, that we must sow.
We cannot gather roses of thistles.
We can kill these dread enemies with one mighty blow,
And the Word of God is the missile.
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
19
(&tu? ^raia?
If you'd have your boy to do his best, praise him.
He'll tackle work with pluck and zest, if you praise him,
He'll outdo every scholar in the school,
Living up to the golden rule, if you'll praise him.
If your daughter is wilful, oft unkind, praise her;
The best results you'll surely find, if you'll praise her;
Thoughtless, yet she loves you well,
Far better than she cares to tell. To prove it, praise her.
Is your neighbor going down the hill, praise him.
Unless you would his cup of anguish fill, praise him.
Give him a good handshake and say:
" I'll stand up for you, boy, any day." Praise him.
Like tonic to a wasted frame are praises.
Would you turn the current of a tainted name, praise it.
Praise cleans the brain, opens the heart.
If good to man you would impart, praise him.
20
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
My Uctermtnatiou
" I am the Master of my fate,
I am the Keeper of my soul."
Though the knowledge comes to me late,
My future I will control.
I will not sit me idly down
And grieve o'er my coffers bare ;
From this world of wealth and renown
I will wrestle and win my share.
I shall cast off my robe of doubt,
Let smiles replace my frowns,
Hail reverses with triumphant shout
And seize the victor's crown;
Temptation shall lose its power
To stifle my good intent,
I'll spring up as a lark from its bower
And speed on ere the day is spent.
I shall trample deceipt in the dust,
Look every man square in the eye;
I shall not let my energy rust,
Or one item of interest pass by.
I'll dig deep in the minds of men's souls,
Crush malice with silent contempt.
Like the billows that unceasingly roll,
Our trials and blessings are sent.
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
21
When the huge angry waves rush on,
I will hie me beyond its control;
When out to the sea it has gone,
I will grasp what it leaves of its gold.
I will not lay it stingily by,
Afraid I'd not get any more,
But will sow it by the wayside high,
And ha^en me back to the shore.
For as the sands of the sea I've found
That my blessings are liberal and free;
I will not bury my gold in the ground
Or hide it in the trunk .of a tree ;
My will power is my Master and King,
I may do as I will if I try ;
And failure, there is no such thing
If I scatter good on each passerby.
When I stand 'twix this world and the next
And the veil is pulled from my eyes,
I will know the things that here vexed
Were but scaffolds to the skies;
And though I have started late,
I'll not stop while Eternity rolls.
" I am the Master of my fate,
I am the Keeper of my soul."
8
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
(gab ts iGnot
Had I .the tongue of angels,
With eloquence inspired,
Knew by heart the sacred pages,
Could I touch the soul's live wire;
Could I sing as the whispering breeze
That gives life with each breath,
Could I be as the tree, ever green,
Could I.fail not even in death;
I would take unto me a mission,
My gratitude of life to prove.
This is all I know. Will you listen ?
And all I can say, " God is Love."
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
God is Love, He never faileth,
'Tis password to Heaven above;
God is Love, He forever prevaileth ;
Tell all whom you meet, God is Love.
You may not be able to tell them
In words, but your ways can prove
That you've learned of and walked with Him;
Through you, they will say, God is Love.
And others will take up the chorus,
God's spirit will descend like a dove,
And oh, won't this world be glorious
When we all know that God is Love !
24
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
SHjj? iSuman 2CrghnarD
If we would heed, as we onward go,
The pitch of our voices, high and low,
Chord them with our minds, our words, our deeds,
We would find they just like music read.
The placid minds are the minor keys,
Striving always someone to please;
The major tones are independent,
And assert their right of a defendent.
The staccato mind is all alert,
Will speak out sharp and sometimes hurt;
The high soprano, a mind so sweet,
The sound of her voice one often seeks.
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
25
The alto strenghthens, sooths, combines.
So many tones in one we find;
And then, upon the other hand,
When left alone she cannot stand.
The mellow tenot wrings the soul
With rapturous sweetness that can't be told.
The mind of the baritone, like thunder,
Makes you first admire, and then wonder.
The grand bass mind, so full and deep,
With emotions will make his comrades weep.
Had I the tongue of a silver bell,
I could not all its graces tell.
It soars on wings in echoless space,
Its fading sounds we fail to trace;
But it goes back to our dear Lord,
Who tunes the keys of the human board.
26
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
Hljat ta JMatt?
" Man is the Masterpiece of God's handiwork,"
A creature of motive and desire;
In the marrow of his bones there lurks
An unquenched, consuming fire.
Burning alike the flesh and the brain,
Never ceasing, night or day,
Sometimes in pleasure, oft times in pain,
Perhaps at work, or it may be at play.
But ever and ever, onward and on,
Does he struggle for knowledge and power.
The more he possesses, the more he has won,
But increases his ardor each hour.
Will he e'er reach his goal ? Will the ship
Of hope set his burning desire free ?
No, he must ever move on, for he is a chip
Off the block of eternity.
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
27
Stye (SUnsrii Hook
i cried to the Angel at close of day :
" One moment more, I have something to say.
I neglected it when the day was young,
Though many times to my lips it has sprung."
Said he sadly Too late, the book is closed."
I cried: " 'Tis important, it must be said,
Ere tomorrow's sun I may be dead;
Who will know what my heart desired
To reveal before I at last expired ?
Please, Angel ! " " Nay, too late, the book is closed."
" This book was given to you white and clean,
None other had access to write therein;
You could write at will, your allotted time,
Words of wisdom, pleasure, crime ;
Your entire life you have had full sway,
No one has ever said to thee, Nay;
Now time is up, the book is closed."
28
UNPOLISHED TRUTHS
On my bed of anguish I struggle in vain.
God, let me speak just once again,
Give vent to the thoughts I delayed so long,
As I mingled with the mighty throng.
My sight now fails me, I'm drifting away,
Oh, for power those words to say!
But alas, the book is closed.
My spirit wafts back to you, my friend.
North, South, East, West, this message send;
Neglect not your mission as onward you go,
Words of kindness and love bestow;
Of your book of life fill every page,
That at life's sunset you may not rave
In despair, when the book is closed.
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