THF UNIVERSITY LIBRARY ^ . 
 
 UY OF CALIFORNIA, SAN DIEGO < / V ! , 
 
 LA JOLLA, CALIFORNIA
 
 IK- a:ii.r*ji-i
 
 Friendly Town 
 
 Ik- 
 
 "Thomas C.urtis Clark 
 
 j e CJoistcT Press
 
 &AME old sunshine, 
 Same old flowers ; 
 
 Same old home nest 
 For quiet hours; 
 
 Same old home folks, 
 Plain, but true; 
 
 Same old garden, 
 Grass and dew; 
 
 Same old meadows, 
 Daisy-strewn ; 
 
 Same old blue sky, 
 Same old June; 
 
 Same old hearthstone, 
 Same old friends; 
 
 Same old loving 
 Till living ends.
 
 Htgfjte of Jfnenblp tEoton 
 
 in tKe city of the proud, 
 Alone I wander, up and down ; 
 But often for my eyes there &leam 
 The lights of Friendly Town. 
 
 The city lights are bright, 'tis true, 
 Alonfc the streets of wide renown, 
 
 But somehow still I lon& to see 
 The lights of Friendly Town. 
 
 The faces that I see are fair, 
 
 But there's a face, more plain and brown, 
 Which tempts me oft to seek a&ain 
 
 The lights of Friendly Town. 
 
 Why should I tread these weary streets, 
 And seek my lonely thoughts to drown, 
 
 When there are twinkling, calm and bright, 
 The lights of Friendly Town. 
 
 Ah, soon I'll hie me back a&ain 
 
 And ask of Her love's joy and crown, 
 
 Then we shall build our nest amon& 
 The lights of Friendly Town.
 
 Contentment Street 
 
 KERE, on fair Contentment Street, 
 Life is blest and joy complete. 
 In each home abides a friend; 
 No fraternal quarrels rend. 
 Every heart is open wide; 
 Comrades all are we who bide 
 On Contentment Street, nor ever 
 Can the curse of envy sever. 
 
 Spring comes early to our town; 
 Summer sends her best &ifts down; 
 Bounteous fields of daisy-^old 
 Bring, our vision joy untold. 
 Lilac bloom and roses red 
 Cheer us. With the summer fled, 
 What rare &ifts the fruit trees pour 
 From their golden autumn store ! 
 
 Why should we, my friend, complain, 
 While each month affords such &ain ? 
 Health and friends and hope are ours; 
 Work and rest, in shady bowers. 
 We have little moneyed treasure, 
 But have joy beyond all measure. 
 Peace and love are bread and meat 
 Here on dear Contentment Street.
 
 of an 
 
 KING of bluest blood am I, 
 Though &old and purple pass me by; 
 By ri&ht divine I wield the rod 
 Above this realm of sod and clod. 
 
 My palace home is passing plain 
 A simple cottage by the lane ; 
 Beneath its roof what hours are spent 
 Of kindly thought and proud content ! 
 
 My Queen, -what royal &arb has she 
 The robes of worth and purity ! 
 A rod of love her fair hands hold, 
 A scepter mightier than of &old. 
 
 No hunting grounds my kingdom knows ; 
 I find fair sport in fat bean rows, 
 And in the maze of bush and vine, 
 And tangled wealth of eglantine. 
 
 What need have I of golden crown, 
 Or jeweled throne, or fair renown? 
 I look at none with jealous eye, 
 For who has more of sun and sky ? 
 
 O who would not a monarch be 
 Of cot and hearth, of bush and tree ! 
 He shall not ask a beggar's dole, 
 Who has an acre and his soul! 
 
 Note. Copyright of above poem owned by People's Home Journal. 
 Used by permission .
 
 Cop ' Ctje ^Morning 
 
 HE sun's a rose in the garden of 
 morn, 
 
 The air is fresh and sweet ; 
 
 The cares of yesterday forgot, 
 
 Our hearts with new hope beat. 
 The corn rows &leam in the silvering li&ht, 
 
 The meadows drip with dew ; 
 The roses smile for everyone 
 Top o' the morning to you !
 
 <Sob 3fe Jlot Jf ar 
 
 'OD is not far from any one of us : 
 The wild flower by the wayside 
 
 speaks His love ; 
 Each blithesome bird bears tidings from 
 above, 
 
 And men know not His voice ! 
 
 God is not far from any one of us : 
 He speaks to us in every &lad sunrise ; 
 His fclory floods us from the noonday skies ; 
 The stars declare His love when daylight 
 dies, 
 
 And men know not His voice ! 
 
 God is not far from any one of us : 
 He watches o'er His children day and ni&ht ; 
 On every darkened soul He sheds His li&ht ; 
 Each burdened heart He cheers, and lends 
 His mi&ht 
 
 To all who know His voice.
 
 Wealtt) 
 
 XHAVE a friend of wealth untold : 
 His window views a field of &old, 
 And ri&ht before his open door 
 A rosebush thrives though little more. 
 
 A robin comes each shining day 
 And helps him while the hours away. 
 But more within his four walls pent, 
 He holds the jewel of content ! 
 
 10
 
 OH, what a lovely day 
 To gently slip away, 
 And live a&ain in fancy's fairyland, 
 With Stevenson and Scott 
 And Dickens such a lot 
 Of fun and frolic ready to my hand ! 
 
 Then Riley, with his song,s, 
 To just this day belongs, 
 For every word bears messages of cheer ; 
 And here is rare Mark Twain, 
 Now let it rain and rain ! 
 There's naught of gloom can ever reach 
 me here. 
 
 Then, when I turn away 
 
 From all these comrades &ay, 
 
 I look far out upon the fields of corn, 
 
 And seem to see them g>row, 
 
 A- waving row on row ; 
 
 I think of Plenty filling, up her horn. 
 
 The daises in the rain 
 
 Shine forth with "might and main," 
 
 A hundred robins fill the apple tree ; 
 
 Oh, what a lovely day, 
 
 With everything, so gay ! 
 
 It's raining, joy and wonderment to me ! 
 
 11
 
 Jameg (ZKHtntcomi) JUlep 
 
 (1915) 
 
 QOET of common things- 
 Sunshine and birds and flowers- 
 For you all nature sin&s ; 
 Hope for you ever springs. 
 Joy fleams from sorrow's showers, 
 At your sweet Carolines. 
 Childhood brings love to you, 
 Knowing, your heart is true ; 
 Knowing you understand 
 Their dreams of fairyland. 
 Greetings we all would brin&, 
 Poet and Childhood's Kin&. 
 
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 my ear pressed to the earth, 
 Lon& I held my breath and listened, 
 Till the last snow-flurry fled, 
 And the last frost-blossom glistened ; 
 And I heard it, yes, I heard it, 
 
 Heard her voice of mirth and laughter ; 
 And I saw her tripping toward me, 
 
 With her rose-&irls coming after 
 Spring, the queen of love and lonfcin&, 
 With her nymphs of beauty thronfcin&. 
 
 As she sped alon& the path, 
 
 Sunbeams hastened to caress her ; 
 And the gentle winds, lon& prisoned, 
 
 Vied, impassioned, to possess her ; 
 Violets, forget-me-nots, 
 
 Larkspurs and anemones, 
 Sprang from every spot she touched, 
 
 And the waking apple trees 
 Burst a&ain in tinted &lory, 
 Freed from Winter's scepter hoary.
 
 LONG the roadside of the days 
 
 The fairest roses &row ; 
 Who seek the sheltered garden plots 
 No sweet surprise can know. 
 
 How &lad the hour when, pil&rimin&, 
 
 We tire of dust and clod, 
 Then come upon a rare wild rose 
 
 A very &ift of God. 
 
 14
 
 <>n a Spring Bap 
 
 OH, who on a day like this 
 Could harbor a thought of ill, 
 With the crocus revealing its fcold, 
 And the violets strewn on the hill ; 
 When the air is just mellow with June, 
 
 And the sky is an ocean of blue ? 
 Oh, who on a day like this 
 Could be to his vision untrue ! 
 
 God, save me from every thought 
 
 That shuts me from Thy pure li&ht, 
 And keep me in spirit and deed 
 
 Still worthy to walk in Thy si&ht. 
 Could it be I would knowingly shame 
 
 This day Thou hast &iven to me, 
 With beauty in every flower, 
 
 And mercy in every tree ! 
 
 15
 
 OH, a bad old world, 
 And a sad old world, 
 Is this world of si&hs and tears, 
 With its hopes deceived, 
 And its hearts bereaved, 
 And its flood of fruitless years ! 
 But for you and me 
 Tis the best can be, 
 Is this bad old, sad old world. 
 
 Oh, a fair old world 
 
 And a rare old world, 
 
 Is this world of deeds and dreams, 
 
 With its love-crowned days, 
 
 And its nights ablaze 
 
 With the starlight's fclory beams. 
 
 Friend, for you and me 
 
 Better cannot be 
 
 Than this fair old, rare old world. 
 
 16
 
 lobe in our life 
 
 EEP love in your life, my friend, 
 If you would have perfect joy; 
 Keep love, never let her depart ; 
 For who would his life destroy? 
 For life's no longer than love, my friend ; 
 When love is no more, 'tis the journey's 
 
 end, 
 
 And Regret and Fear shall your way at- 
 tend. 
 Keep love in your life, my friend. 
 
 Keep love in your life alway, 
 Though tempted to bid her &o ; 
 
 Keep love the bride of your heart, 
 If you would a true life know. 
 
 For life's no longer than love, I say ; 
 
 With the end of love comes the close of 
 day, 
 
 And the chill of death in the shadows &ray. 
 Keep love in your life alway. 
 
 17
 
 OTap anb tlje 
 
 HOEVER has in his heart a son&, 
 Has cheer and to spare for a journey 
 
 The way may be roug,h and the weather 
 
 drear 
 One may fare quite well, with a son& to 
 
 cheer. 
 
 What though no comrade enliven the way ! 
 Just keep on sinking,, then, ni&ht and day. 
 Whoever has in his heart a son&, 
 Has cheer and to spare for a journey 
 
 18
 
 r i& it to Cfnlbfjoob Coton ? 
 
 far is it to Childhood Town ? 
 A small one asked of me, 
 Not knowing, of the pain she &ave 
 My heart she could not see ; 
 For as I sought, in simple words, 
 
 To please her ea&er ears, 
 A tear broke past unwilling eyes, 
 As they looked on other years. 
 
 How far is it to Childhood Town ? 
 
 Oh, many miles, my child ! 
 Beyond the Mountains of Defeat, 
 
 Where blasted hopes are piled ; 
 Beyond the Vale of Sorrow, where 
 
 The trees with blight are brown. 
 Far, far away that happy place 
 
 We once called Childhood Town ! 
 
 How far is it to Childhood Town ? 
 
 Far past the sun-scorched plain, 
 Where thron&in& men, with hearts in- 
 flamed, 
 
 Wa&e war for sordid &ain ; 
 Far o'er the Sea, where many ships 
 
 Have stranded and &one down. 
 Oh, far away that happy realm 
 
 We once called Childhood Town ! 
 
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 And yet your heart, my happy child, 
 
 Feels naught of human woe ; 
 No mount, no vale, no stormy sea 
 
 Your simple life can know. 
 For you a river, passing fair, 
 
 Flows evermore adown 
 By that rare realm, sweet Fairyland, 
 
 Your own dear Childhood Town. 
 
 lon& ni&ht has passed ; 
 The hills are touched with &old ; 
 Come, let us feed our hearts 
 Before the day &rows old. 
 All rapturous the world 
 
 But lo ! the charm has &one ! 
 The greedy sun has had its fill 
 From the ^lory-feast of dawn. 
 
 20
 
 OH, the day is cheery, 
 The sky is blue, 
 The sun is shining 
 For me and you ; 
 So, with hearts overflowing 
 We'll breathe a son&, 
 With a zest 
 For the quest, 
 As we journey alon&. 
 
 Oh, the day is dreary, 
 
 The way is steep, 
 The heart is pining 
 
 In shadows deep ; 
 Yet we'll press still onward 
 With spirits strong, 
 For the quest 
 Leads to rest, 
 Though the journey be lon&, 
 
 21
 
 II for a 
 
 ORRY, it's you for the shelf ! 
 Trouble, &et out of my way! 
 The world must shuffle alon& some- 
 how 
 I'm off for a holiday. 
 
 Heaven is pouring out &old, 
 
 Meadows all blooming with May 
 
 The whole round earth has learned, I fcuess, 
 That I'm off for a holiday. 
 
 It doesn't pay to fret, 
 
 No matter what they say. 
 With eyes wide open, a heart that's li&ht, 
 
 I'm off for a holiday. 
 
 22
 
 to Helen 
 
 aPRIL bore you, Helen dear, 
 Fickle month of all the year ; 
 Now like sunshine is your face, 
 Soon to yield with easy fcrace 
 
 To the storm. 
 
 April bore you, Helen dear, 
 Fickle month of all the year. 
 
 April bore you, fickle one, 
 With your moods of rain and sun ; 
 Still I would not change your ways, 
 For I love those April days, 
 
 And so you. 
 
 April bore you, fickle one, 
 With your moods of rain and sun.
 
 'AY days, May days, 
 Smiles and wiles and a son& ; 
 Naufcht can trouble the heart of 
 
 youth, 
 For hope is strong. 
 
 Drear days, fear days, 
 Bli&ht and ni&ht and a si&h ; 
 Naught can lighten the heart of afce, 
 For hope's &one by. 
 
 24
 
 Pest Daps of 
 
 'HESE are the best days ! 
 Stars were never brighter, 
 Hearts were never lighter ; 
 Son&s of birds and rippling brooklets 
 
 Never were more sweet ; 
 There were never fairer flowers 
 Than those at our feet 
 In these fair days, 
 These rare days, 
 The best days of all ! 
 
 These are the best days ! 
 
 Skies were never bluer, 
 
 Friends were never truer ; 
 There was never less of sorrow, 
 
 More of joy and son&, 
 Than we find beside our pathway 
 
 As we trudge along,, 
 In these fair days, 
 These rare days, 
 
 The best days of all !
 
 OETRY, return to earth ; 
 Give the world a sweet new birth. 
 
 Grant us power a&ain to feel 
 In this a&e of stone and steel. 
 
 Free the fettered fount of joy ; 
 Fret and foolish care destroy. 
 
 Lift for men the star of hope. 
 Let them not in darkness &rope. 
 
 Slay the demons, Doubt and Fear 
 Through thy an&els, Trust and Cheer. 
 
 Keep in us thy vital breath, 
 Lest our souls partake of death. 
 
 Poetry, return to earth ; 
 
 Give the world a sweet new birth. 
 
 26
 
 'IVE me tKe poet's vision ; 
 
 Grant me tKe &ift of son& ; 
 ,Life and tKe tKin&s eternal 
 All to tKe bards belong. 
 
 TKey are tKe true world-builders ; 
 
 TKeirs are tKe deatKless years ; 
 TKey Kold tKe ageless scepter 
 
 Wielders of dreams and tears. 
 
 WKere is tKe soldier's &lory ? 
 
 WKere is tKe monarcK's name ? 
 TKeirs is a bloody story, 
 
 TKeirs is a bli&Kted fame. 
 
 WKere is tKe statesman's grandeur ? 
 
 WKere is tKe courtier's pride ? 
 Lo, in tKe tombs tKey rest tKem, 
 
 By tKe wild ocean-side. 
 
 Give me tKe poet's vision ; 
 
 Grant me tKe &ift of son& ; 
 Life and tKe tKin&s eternal 
 
 All to tKe bards belong. 
 
 27
 
 3Time to Utoe 
 
 AKE time to live ; 
 The world has much to 
 Of faith and hope and love 
 
 Of faith, that life is &ood, 
 
 That human brotherhood 
 
 Shall no illusion prove ; 
 
 Of hope, that future years 
 
 Shall bring, the best, in spite 
 
 Of those whose darkened si&ht 
 
 Would stir our doubts and fears; 
 
 Of love, that makes of life, 
 
 With all its g,rief , a song, ; 
 
 A friend, of conquered wron& ; 
 
 A symphony, of strife. 
 
 Take time to live, 
 
 Nor to vain mammon &ive 
 
 Thy fruitful years. 
 
 Take time to live; 
 
 The world has much to &ive 
 
 Of sweet content ; of joy 
 
 At duty bravely done ; 
 
 Of hope, that every sun 
 
 Shall bring, more fair employ. 
 
 Take time to live, 
 
 For life has much to g,ive, 
 
 Despite the cynic's sneer 
 
 That all's forever wron. 
 
 There's much that calls for song, ! 
 
 To fate lend not thine ear. 
 
 Take time to live ; 
 
 The world has much to
 
 Utttle Cfnibren 
 
 "S little children playing alon& the 
 
 wide seashore, 
 
 Gathering pearly shells, turning 
 them o'er and o'er, 
 Tiring of each in turn but to seek a 
 
 brighter one, 
 
 So play we, children all, till life's play 
 hour is done. 
 
 As little children playing alonfc the wide 
 
 seashore, 
 Building, their houses of sand where the 
 
 wild waters roar, 
 Then, when the waves devour, crying out 
 
 to the heedless deep, 
 So play we, children all, and are left on 
 
 the shore to weep. 
 
 As little children playing alon& the wide 
 
 seashore, 
 Launching their fragile barks freighted 
 
 with precious store, 
 Tracing their wayward course till the 
 
 waves their treasures spend, 
 So play we, children all, and shall unto 
 
 the end.
 
 little Ib Itoton 
 
 HERE'S a word of praise 
 For the little old town 
 Back Indiana-way. 
 You may sneer, you may frown, 
 You may lau&h me down, 
 But I'm telling you today 
 That stars are far brighter, 
 And hearts are far lighter 
 In that little old town 
 By the lon& red lane, 
 Where they don't sell their souls 
 For power and &ain ; 
 Where the roses are fresh 
 With the morning dew, 
 And there's something sweet 
 All summer through. 
 I don't know a place any better, 
 
 Do you, 
 Than that little old country town ? 
 
 Here's a word of praise 
 For the little old town 
 Back Indiana-way. 
 It is meek and plain, 
 And the long, red lane 
 Has nothing of vain display ; 
 But people don't worry, 
 And thoughtlessly hurry 
 In that little old town 
 By the dear home road ; 
 
 30
 
 For they're satisfied quite, 
 
 And pride is no &oad. 
 
 They revel in roses 
 
 The summer through, 
 
 And the winter-time brings 
 
 Its raptures, too. 
 
 I don't know a place any better, 
 
 Do you, 
 Than that little old country town? 
 
 Note. Copyright of above poem owned by People's Home Journal. 
 Used by permission. 
 
 31