Songs for All Seasons, and Other Poems

Part 1

Chapter 12,817 wordsPublic domain

Songs for All Seasons and Other Poems.

Best wishes of the season to each and every one; May the fairest gifts attend thee till the day of time is done. Flow thy lives as smoothly as the tide of Heavenly love, And sweetest songs be given to the King of Kings above.

By Cora C. Bass.

LOWELL, MASS. THE LAWLER PRINTING COMPANY. 1901.

COPYRIGHT BY

CORA C. BASS,

1901.

_PREFACE._

_Thanks are due to The New York Observer, Zion’s Herald, The Standard, Boston Transcript, Portland Transcript, New England Home Magazine and others._

_I would also take this opportunity of expressing my gratitude to the many friends who gave so kindly a welcome to my first book of poems._

_CORA C. BASS._

CONTENTS

Songs For All Seasons 1

Bravely Do and Bravely Bear 1

The Waves of Chance 2

Precious Seed 3

Ours Is The Choice 3

The Sum of Life 4

Build 4

The Perfect Song 5

Sunshine 5

“It Is God’s Way” 6

Time 6

May 7

Man and The Mist 8

The Flowers 9

Recompense 9

The Way 10

A Song 10

The Missing Ship 11

Tranquility 12

No Duty Is Too Difficult To Do 12

“Old Year, Adieu” 13

Washington 14

Comrades 15

Character 16

What Is There To Be Thankful For? 17

Life’s Temple 18

What Do We Owe Our Friends? 19

Memorial Day 20

Our City 23

Night 24

Little Wide-Awake 25

Try To Help Another 26

Independence 27

Contrasted Lives 29

The Way Will Open 29

Spring 30

Victoria 31

Freedom’s Son 31

Our River 33

Sunset 33

Memorial Poem 34

Blessed Was The Name She Bore 37

Content 38

Violet 39

“Longest Lanes Must Have a Turning” 39

Is There Not Something We Can Do? 40

Sunny Days 41

Bunker Hill 42

Doing 43

For Feeble Hands 43

Little Can’t-Wait 44

Make It a Pleasure 46

If We Had Lived When First The Pilgrims Came 47

Mumma, ’Ang Me ’Tocking Up 47

Our Joy Is Measured By What We Do 48

Thanksgiving 49

Transmuted 49

Christmas Gifts 49

What He Wanted 50

A Hero 51

Baby’s Christmas 52

Lovely May 53

The Chimes 53

Well May I Laugh 54

Santa ’s Coming 55

To-day and To-morrow 55

Commendation 55

Tried and True 57

Sunny Skies 58

Not a Day 59

Things Done 60

The Word 60

Fear Not 61

The Law Of The Present, Obey 61

Christmas Eve 62

In The Mirror 63

Living For Others 63

The Book of Time 63

Who Is This So Loved Of Yore? 64

Christmas Thoughts 65

Beauty Of The Soul 66

Brighter Hours 66

Willing To Serve 67

Banners Waving 67

Can You See a Little Face? 68

The Baby’s Palm 69

No Blessing Ever Comes By Chance 69

The Mayflower 70

The Best We Can 71

Something To Look Forward To 72

Christmas 72

The Brightness We Have Learned To Share 73

Ring Busy Bells 74

The River-Of-Life 76

Singing Songs For Jesus 77

Anchor Me Safe 78

Shine Out 78

Whatever Changes Time May Bring 79

Looking To Jesus 80

I Neither Faint Nor Fear 80

Easter-Tide 82

However High The Aim 82

He Giveth His Beloved Sleep 83

As We Are 83

Can The Willing Hands Be Weary? 84

The Message So Sweet 85

Service 85

Risen To-day 86

Another’s Place 86

The Window Of Life 88

Thou Art Mine 89

The Merry Bells 90

Follow Jesus 90

The Bright Side 91

We Shall Meet Again 92

The Empty Life 92

A Living Lord 93

“Have Fellowship One With Another” 94

Following Jesus 94

The Christian’s Hope 95

Coming Once More 95

The Present 97

Be Faithful 97

Why Will Ye Die 98

The Testing Time 99

Light 99

If a Work is Worth the Doing 100

Take Thy Stand 102

Father, Accept Our Thanks 102

Songs for All Seasons.

SONGS FOR ALL SEASONS.

Songs for all seasons, thrice welcome, And grateful they are to the ear; The rhythmical ring of each measure As the voice of the wood-thrush is clear. We hear the first note of the springtime, And quickly our hearts are attune With melodies pulsing around us, Till Winter, himself, is as June.

Songs for all seasons, we love them, The harmonies borne on the breeze. We love the deep tones of the billows, The brisk, busy, hum of the bees. The harvesting songs they are pleasant, The scent of the harvest, how sweet! Yet never a song of the seasons With winter’s own song can compete.

BRAVELY DO AND BRAVELY BEAR.

I will bravely do and bravely bear Whatever God may send, Well knowing He will ease my care And His true child defend. I will bravely do and bravely bear, Yea, strive to do my best, Whether the way be dark or fair, And leave to Him the rest.

THE WAVES OF CHANCE.

Buffeted by the waves of chance, Uncertain what to do, We sail the sea of circumstance A voyage ever new. The beacon light too often hid, On which we could rely, Can Hope betray us? God forbid! The haven still is nigh.

Buffeted by the waves of chance, Without the compass--choice, Neglecting when we should advance The one directing voice; Bewildered by the blinding spray We fail to count the cost, And court the dangers of delay When reckonings are lost.

Buffeted by the waves of chance, Rejecting what is best, We scan the billows’ wild expanse An eager, ceaseless quest. The faithful pilot we have missed, No fault of his, our own; It means destruction to desist,-- We battle on alone.

Buffeted by the waves of chance, Not knowing where to land, We need a keen, unerring glance, A firm, a steadfast hand. The ship of life triumphant glides Past doubt’s delusive reef, And joyfully at anchor rides In yon fair bay--Belief.

PRECIOUS SEED.

If no one planted precious seed How barren all the land would be, North and south and east and west, Never plenty, never rest; For a harvest rich and free, Vain to plead.

Be ready, all along the way, To seek the motive power of life; Free to sow, to garner in, Love its sure reward will win. Undismayed by doubt or strife, Work away.

If each man did the best he could In winter as in summer time; By pleasure’s side, on sorrow’s brink, His life chain forging link by link; Easy it would be to climb, Doing good.

OURS IS THE CHOICE.

Most gracious choice! What is a soul without a voice? A noble thought develops noble deeds, Words give thought freedom, words are wings, Deft carriers of mysterious things Too glorious to behold; They bear swift witness to our needs And make the true heart bold, To mirror forth in language quaint, The image fancy cannot paint.

THE SUM OF LIFE.

Day by day the weeks go by, Month by month the swift years fly, Hour by hour we work, we live, Love and labor, gain and give.

Taking blessings as they come, In the total find life’s sum; Bind as in a volume vast, Read the future by the past.

Only reaching heights sublime, Willing step by step to climb; Wealth to which a soul succeeds Is to what the present leads.

BUILD.

How much can we hope to win, while we merely sit and plan? It is better far to build, just building the best we can. And pleasant it is to build though the building itself is small, Though many a builder fail and many a building fall. It is ever the willing hands are sure to accomplish most; It is ever the truthful lips are least inclined to boast; It is ever the loving heart, is the safest heart to trust; Let us build because we may, and not because we must.

THE PERFECT SONG.

Shall we not gladly sing the song A fainting heart to cheer? Although the path is dark and long Some saving help is near. There is no hill so hard to climb We may not reach the top; It were a needless waste of time To stop.

Shall we not gladly sing the song To speed men on their way, And swell the throng, the happy throng, Swift pressing on to-day? Which would we choose, to bravely sing The while we do our best, Or to an idle fancy cling And rest?

In the refrain of one sweet song Each silent voice we miss, A song to make the feeble strong, A song to breathe of bliss. The song which white robed seraphs hold All other songs above; The perfect song, the new, the old, Of Love.

SUNSHINE.

There is plenty of sunshine in the world To brighten the darkest days; Are we sailing on with our colors furled, Or spread to the cheering rays? Are we sailing on with downcast eyes, Or eyes on the gleaming goal? Safe is the trip of the ship of the skies Though the waves of the clouds rough roll.

“IT IS GOD’S WAY.”

Rest, kindly heart, content to say “It is God’s way, His will be done.” Thrice blessed thought, With bliss enwrought, For Freedom’s son.

Rest, kingly soul, inspired to say “It is God’s way, His will be done.” While nations weep And vigil keep, Thy course is run.

Rest, martyr, lo! we hear thee say:-- “It is God’s way, His will be done.” “Nearer to Thee,” Oh, tender plea, The crown is won.

TIME.

When there is urgent need for haste Can we move slow? Let precious moments run to waste A chance forego? Achievement’s dizzy heights alone Stand forth sublime; There is no penance to atone For loss of time.

MAY.

From southern climes, O swiftly wing thy way And pour thy symphonies in cadence sweet Upon the air. ’Tis done, and at thy feet Forget-me-nots soft nestle in the spray Fresh scattered by the dew-drops in their play: Ay, even over echo’s proud retreat, Monadnoc, lies thy handiwork complete; All hail thee, gentle queen,--benignant May!

May, brilliant May, with arbutus adorned; Fairer than life itself when hope prevails; Thy minstrels pipe in peace from yon blue pond, Where water-lilies spread their airy sails, And feathered songsters wake the wood beyond With notes more ringing sweet than nightingale’s.

For what is England’s silver-throated bird The heart of free America to thrill; When robin’s merry strain, the lark’s wild trill, Fall on the fainting faith like some fond word From lips beloved, that other days have heard,-- Which spurred the lagging feet to climb the hill, That ere the “sweet note” fell forgot their will And marveled--what the feeble steps deterred.

Then, as on zephyr wing the summons came, It cheered the soul triumphant on its way; It fanned the “spark celestial” to a flame Which shimmered through the night’s bewildered gray To glow about the One All-Blessed Name, And write in lines of gold: “Hail! Bonny May!”

MAN AND THE MIST.

He cannot sweep away the mist However he may toil, Content to weary years persist It would his efforts foil. There is a place of vision clear Where earth and sky are blending, Impelling him to persevere, From height to height ascending.

How good it is when man can rise Above the mist-hung valley, He must, who on his worth relies, To his own rescue rally. He murmurs not at rocks ahead But vaulting lightly o’er them, Will triumph over foemen dread Or better yet ignore them.

Not seeking to the mist dispel Thus precious moments wasting, He marvels not that others fell While upward, onward, hasting. He hears the sound on ev’ry hand Of people vainly shouting, But knowing where he soon may stand Gives not a thought to doubting.

He pushes on with heart athrill; Though weaker souls may taunt him, Succeed he must, succeed he will, No obstacle can daunt him. There is a place for all who climb He cannot fail to find it, The mist must veil a truth sublime For there’s the sun behind it.

THE FLOWERS.

Weary and ill, Fair messengers and sweet They healthful thoughts and gracious hopes entreat, Fragrant out breathings from some balmy hill, Fresh from their sky-domed, leafy bowers, Thrice blessed flowers!

Oppressive walls Instinctively expand, And sunny fields unfold on either hand, As singing rills repeat the blithe bird calls. We walk in breezy woodland bowers, Seeing the flowers.

The burdened brain Submissive to their spell Is quick to heed the gentle tale they tell: No baby blossom ever blooms in vain. Borne from their dreamy, dewy bowers; Cherish the flowers.

RECOMPENSE.

After the shadows, sunshine; Quiet after the pain; Light for the mountain passes And for the desert rain. After the shadows, sunshine, After the failure, success; Never a pleasure is taken But something is given to bless.

THE WAY.

The way may be rough, And our footsteps may falter, Though foeman rebuff, The right cannot alter; As upward we climb Each trouble outbraving, More sweet and sublime Is the boon we are craving.

The way may be long, And the day may be dreary; The world is not wrong Because we are weary. A cloud may annoy, But soon shall we read it By light of the joy And the peace that succeed it.

A SONG.

A song makes merry music ’mid the hills, Like laughing rills. On heaven’s bright sea its echo lingers long, Love is a song. A quenchless melody given to inspire The fainting heart with bold, ambitious fire; Springing from out the life, As pain is born of strife. A sweet conception of the joy to be, Delightful, free. Gladly our lips take up the winsome strain And make the meaning of its birthright plain.

THE MISSING SHIP.

Any news yet of the missing ship? Any news yet? we say; A household word on every lip, The name of that ship to-day: The name of the ship who left her dock In the blush of the early morn, Has she struck, unknown, on some cruel rock With never a voice to warn?

Any news yet of the missing ship? Any news yet? we cry; We speak her name with a trembling lip, To her aid we fain would fly. Adrift at mercy of wind and wave; Storm spent on a desolate shore:-- May there be one guardian hand to save, ’Mid the billows rush and roar.

Any news yet of the missing ship? Any news yet? we sigh; We speak her name with a timid lip, And pray for a kind reply. For life and death in a moment blend, Who ever the captain may be; We never can tell how a trip will end, When a ship puts out to sea.

TRANQUILITY.

We well may keep a tranquil mind Whatever changes meeting, The world is happier we find For ev’ry pleasant greeting. How easy then to work away At each new problem set us, For even on the darkest day Some gleam of hope has met us.

There is no hill so hard to climb, We may not reach the summit; There is no task, but patience, time, Will grandly overcome it. We cannot look for light in vain, Behold it all around us; Perplexing paths shall be made plain, When victory has crowned us.

NO DUTY IS TOO DIFFICULT TO DO.

Attentive to the work the will requires The hand achieves the task the heart desires; No duty is too difficult to do, The end in view.

The end in view, if hope, or love, it be; Content, when it can set a brother free; Or bid him move rejoicing on his way The while ’tis day.

Attentive to the work the will requires, The hand perfects the task the heart desires, No duty is too difficult to do, The end in view.

“OLD YEAR, ADIEU.”

A happy measure smites the ear. It pealeth full, it pealeth clear; And at the “witching hour” of night, Awakes a rapture of delight. Across the land, across the sea, The merry strain is borne along; While even seraphs bend the knee Before the majesty of song.

Old Year--alas, we cannot stay Thy eager footsteps for a day; Thy work is done, and thou shalt go, A rival is at hand we know. Across the land, across the sea, The merry strain is borne along; Ah! surely it is bliss to flee Upon the pinions of a song.

Hark!--clear and strong and full and free, I hear the bells saluting thee; They seem to say “Old Year, adieu”-- And “halleluiah” to the New. Across the land, across the sea, The merry peal is borne along, And all the world must happy be To hear the oft-repeated song.

WASHINGTON.

’Twas Christmas eve, the enemy his vigilance for once relaxed; Well might such gusts of angry sleet the keenest zeal have overtaxed.