Though He blessed me with my gift, And He will bless me along the way, He is giving me love and wisdom And He will bring a brighter day.
These are words of a poor poet, And what I write is true, I long to go before the world To try and show what I can do.
If one could only see me now, My lips are numb, shows sorrow deep. This is after my daily labor That these thoughts through my mind does creep.
God gives me strength to work, To earn my daily bread, Then revives me for my writing To show that my blood is red.
Why swell up o’er talent Or activeness of brain? God giveth and he taketh As easy as it twinkles down rain.
Life lays out its happiness and sorrows, You’re to choose either for to-day or to-morrow, We can be happy our whole life through In regarding our company and the things we do. Let the other fellow think what he will or may, I’ll choose happiness, it really pays. Life holds a beauty that shineth like gold, Seek it while you’re young, don’t wait to get old. Day by day it comes to us all, So fly not so high, remember your fall. One moment we’re up and the next we’re down, Try to take the ladder without a frown. For our lives are planned out with time and space And we are truly guided by an unseen face. The blossoms of life has petals so dear; Then deal with them gently and handle with care, There’s like the rose in the garden that blooms, That gives to the breeze their wafted perfume, But the way the frost makes its petals fly This teaches us that we all must die.
In a lonely little village Was the tolling of a bell. Deep in our hearts A sad story it tells.
Deceased our dear, old general Who fought with heart so brave, In honor of our land and country, And stars and stripes to save.
A poor shabby boy; But an ambitious poet, And in most appealing way He’d love for the world to know it.
For now he sits and dreams Of which he can’t depart, And deep in his soul lies That beautiful hidden art.
God gives him the power And a clean mind to compose, He gathers beauties from an unseen garden, Where he dwells when his soul is reposed.
He has a high standard in thought As the richest man of the day, And wears a smile, though destitute For this is just his way.
Here lies the roses that’s fading away, With their memories of a brighter day; Just like the heat, are withering them dear, The loss of your love brings sorrow and care. These roses go back to nature’s review, They’ll regain their lives and bloom anew, But if my poor heart could be repaired With kindness of nature which roses are shared ’Twould remove all sorrow and enter sweet refrain Then my heart would bud and bloom again.