[Vision2020] A Li'l Sunday Evenin' Poetry

[Tom Hansen]

"The Teacher's 'If'"
by R. J. Gale


If you can take your dreams into the classroom,
  And always make them part of each day's work--
If you can face the countless petty problems
  Nor turn from them nor ever try to shirk--
If you can live so that the child you work with
  Deep in his heart knows you to be a man--
If you can take "I can't" from out his language
  And put in place a vigorous "I can"--

If you can take Love with you to the classroom,
  And yet on Firmness never shut the door--
If you can teach a child the love of Nature
  So that he helps himself to all her store--
If you can teach him life is what we make it,
  That he himself can be his only bar--
If you can tell him something of the heavens,
  Or something of the wonder of a star--

If you, with simple bits of truth and honor,
  His better self occasionally reach--
And yet not overdo nor have him dub you
  As one who is inclined to ever preach--
If you impart to him a bit of liking
  For all the wondrous things we find in print--
Yet have him understand that to be happy,
  Play, exercise, fresh air he must not stint--

If you can give of all the best that's in you,
  And in the giving always happy be--
If you can find the good that's hidden somewhere
  Deep in the heart of every child you see--
If you can do these things and all the others
  That teachers everywhere do every day--
You're in the work that you were surely meant for;
  Take hold of it! Know it's your place and stay!

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"The Service Flag"
by William Herschell

Dear little flag in the window there,
Hung with a tear and a woman's prayer,
Child of Old Glory, born with a star--
Oh, what a wonderful flag you are!

Blue is your star in its field of white,
Dipped in the red that was born of fight;
Born of the blood that our forebears shed
To raise your mother, The Flag, o'er-head.

And now you've come, in this frenzied day,
To speak from a window--to speak and say:
"I am the voice of a soldier son,
Gone, to be gone till the victory's won.

"I am the flag of The Service, sir:
The flag of his mother--I speak for her
Who stands by my window and waits and fears,
But hides from the others her unwept tears.

"I am the flag of the wives who wait
For the safe return of a martial mate--
A mate gone forth where the war god thrives,
To save from sacrifice other men's wives.

"I am the flag of the sweethearts true;
The often unthought of--the sisters, too.
I am the flag of a mother's son,
Who won't come home till the victory's won!"

Dear little flag in the window there,
Hung with a tear and a woman's prayer,
Child of Old Glory, born with a star--
Oh, what a wonderful flag you are!

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"How Did You Die?"
by Edmund Vance Cooke


Did you tackle the trouble that came your way
  With a resolute heart and cheerful?
Or hide year face from the light of day
  With a craven soul and fearful?
Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce,
  Or a trouble is what you make it,
And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts,
  But only how did you take it?

You are beaten to earth? Well, well, what's that?
  Come up with a smiling face,
Its nothing against you to fall down flat,
  But to lie there--that's disgrace.
The harder you're thrown, why, the higher the bounce;
  Be proud of your blackened eye!
It isn't the fact that you're licked that counts;
  It's how did you fight--and why?

And though you be done to the death, what then?
  If you battled the best you could,
If you played your part in the world of men,
  Why, the Critic will call it good.
Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce,
  And whether he's slow or spry,
It isn't the fact that you're dead that counts,
  But only how did you die?


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"An 'If' For Girls"
by Elizabeth Lincoln Otis

(With apologies to Mr. Rudyard Kipling)

If you can dress to make yourself attractive,
  Yet not make puffs and curls your chief delight;
If you can swim and row, be strong and active,
  But of the gentler graces lose not sight;
If you can dance without a craze for dancing,
  Play without giving play too strong a hold,
Enjoy the love of friends without romancing,
  Care for the weak, the friendless and the old;

If you can master French and Greek and Latin,
  And not acquire, as well, a priggish mien,
If you can feel the touch of silk and satin
  Without despising calico and jean;
If you can ply a saw and use a hammer,
  Can do a man's work when the need occurs,
Can sing when asked, without excuse or stammer,
  Can rise above unfriendly snubs and slurs;

If you can make good bread as well as fudges,
  Can sew with skill and have an eye for dust,
If you can be a friend and hold no grudges,
  A girl whom all will love because they must;

If sometime you should meet and love another
  And make a home with faith and peace enshrined,
And you its soul--a loyal wife and mother--
  You'll work out pretty nearly to my mind
The plan that's been developed through the ages,
  And win the best that life can have in store,
You'll be, my girl, the model for the sages--
  A woman whom the world will bow before.

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"The Land Where Hate Should Die"
by Denis A. McCarthy

This is the land where hate should die--
  No feuds of faith, no spleen of race,
No darkly brooding fear should try
  Beneath our flag to find a place.
Lo! every people here has sent
  Its sons to answer freedom's call,
Their lifeblood is the strong cement
  That builds and binds the nation's wall.

This is the land where hate should die--
  Though dear to me my faith and shrine,
I serve my country when I
  Respect the creeds that are not mine.
He little loves his land who'd cast
  Upon his neighbor's word a doubt,
Or cite the wrongs of ages past
  From present rights to bar him out.

This is the land where hate should die--
  This is the land where strife should cease,
Where foul, suspicious fear should fly
  Before the light of love and peace.
Then let us purge from poisoned thought
  That service to the state we give,
And so be worthy as we ought
  Of this great land in which we live.

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Seeya round town, Moscow.

Tom Hansen
Moscow, Idaho

"The Pessimist complains about the wind, the Optimist expects it to change
and the Realist adjusts his sails."

- Author Unknown