Looking forth, Out to the western sky still bright with noon, I feel well spurred and booted for the strife That ends not till Nirvana is attained.
Battling with fate, with men, and with myself, Up the steep summit of my life’s forenoon, Three things I learned, three things of precious worth, To guide and help me down the western slope. I have learned how to pray, and toil, and save: To pray for courage to receive what comes, Knowing what comes to be divinely sent; To toil for universal good, since thus And only thus can good come unto me; To save, by giving whatsoe’er I have To those who have not—this alone is gain.
With each strong thought, with every earnest longing For aught thou deemest needful to thy soul, Invisible vast forces are set thronging Between thee and that goal
’Tis only when some hidden weakness alters And changes thy desire, or makes it less, That this mysterious army ever falters Or stops short of success.
Thought is a magnet; and the longed-for pleasure, Or boon, or aim, or object, is the steel; And its attainment hangs but on the measure Of what thy soul can feel.
Smile a little, smile a little, As you go along, Not alone when life is pleasant, But when things go wrong. Care delights to see you frowning, Loves to hear you sigh; Turn a smiling face upon her— Quick the dame will fly.
Smile a little, smile a little, All along the road; Every life must have its burden, Every heart its load. Why sit down in gloom and darkness With your grief to sup? As you drink Fate’s bitter tonic, Smile across the cup.
Smile upon the troubled pilgrims Whom you pass and meet; Frowns are thorns, and smiles are blossoms Oft for weary feet. Do not make the way seem harder By a sullen face; Smile a little, smile a little, Brighten up the place.
Smile upon your undone labour; Not for one who grieves O’er his task waits wealth or glory; He who smiles achieves. Though you meet with loss and sorrow In the passing years, Smile a little, smile a little, Even through your tears.
Man has explored all countries and all lands, And made his own the secrets of each clime. Now, ere the world has fully reached its prime, The oval earth lies compassed with steel bands, The seas are slaves to ships that touch all strands, And even the haughty elements, sublime And bold, yield him their secrets for all time, And speed like lackeys forth at his commands.