Part 23

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THE OBLIGATION OF FRIENDSHIP

You ought to be fine for the sake of the folks Who think you are fine. If others have faith in you doubly you're bound To stick to the line. It's not only on you that dishonor descends: You can't hurt yourself without hurting your friends.

You ought to be true for the sake of the folks Who believe you are true. You never should stoop to a deed that your friends Think you wouldn't do. If you're false to yourself, be the blemish but small, You have injured your friends; you've been false to them all.

For friendship, my boy, is a bond between men That is founded on truth: It believes in the best of the ones that it loves, Whether old man or youth; And the stern rule it lays down for me and for you Is to be what our friends think we are, through and through.

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UNDER THE SKIN OF MEN

Did you ever sit down and talk with men In a serious sort of a way, On their views of life and ponder then On all that they have to say? If not, you should in some quiet hour; It's a glorious thing to do: For you'll find that back of the pomp and power Most men have a goal in view.

They'll tell you then that their aim is not The clink of the yellow gold; That not in the worldly things they've got Would they have their stories told. They'll say the joys that they treasure most Are their good friends, tried and true, And an honest name for their own to boast And peace when the day is through.

I've talked with men and I think I know What's under the toughened skin. I've seen their eyes grow bright and glow With the fire that burns within. And back of the gold and back of the fame And back of the selfish strife, In most men's breasts you'll find the flame Of the nobler things of life.

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THE FINER THOUGHT

How fine it is at night to say: "I have not wronged a soul to-day. I have not by a word or deed, In any breast sowed anger's seed, Or caused a fellow being pain; Nor is there on my crest a stain That shame has left. In honor's way, With head erect, I've lived this day."

When night slips down and day departs And rest returns to weary hearts, How fine it is to close the book Of records for the day, and look Once more along the traveled mile And find that all has been worth while; To say: "In honor I have toiled; My plume is spotless and unsoiled."

Yet cold and stern a man may be Retaining his integrity; And he may pass from day to day A spirit dead, in living clay, Observing strictly morals, laws, Yet serving but a selfish cause; So it is not enough to say: "I have not stooped to shame to-day!"

It is a finer, nobler thought When day is done and night has brought The contemplative hours and sweet, And rest to weary hearts and feet, If man can stand in truth and say: "I have been useful here to-day. Back there is one I chanced to see With hope newborn because of me.

"This day in honor I have toiled; My shining crest is still unsoiled; But on the mile I leave behind Is one who says that I was kind; And someone hums a cheerful song Because I chanced to come along." Sweet rest at night that man shall own Who has not lived his day alone.

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STUCK

I'm up against it day by day, My ignorance is distressing; The things I don't know on the way I'm busily confessing. Time was I used to think I knew Some useful bits of knowledge And could be sure of one or two Real facts I'd gleaned in college. But I'm unfitted for the task Of answering things my boy can ask.

Now, who can answer queries queer That four-year-olds can think up? And tell in simple phrase and clear Why fishes do not drink up The water in the streams and lakes, Or where the wind is going, And tell exactly how God makes The roses that are growing? I'm sure I cannot satisfy Each little when, and how, and why.

Had I the wisdom of a sage Possessed of all the learning That can be gleaned from printed page From bookworm's closest turning, That eager knowledge-seeking lad That questions me so gayly Could still go round and boast he had With queries floored me daily. He'll stick, I'll bet, in less than five Brief minutes any man alive.

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ETERNAL FRIENDSHIP

Who once has had a friend has found The link 'twixt mortal and divine; Though now he sleeps in hallowed ground, He lives in memory's sacred shrine; And there he freely moves about, A spirit that has quit the clay, And in the times of stress and doubt Sustains his friend throughout the day.

No friend we love can ever die; The outward form but disappears; I know that all my friends are nigh Whenever I am moved to tears. And when my strength and hope are gone, The friends, no more, that once I knew, Return to cheer and urge me on Just as they always used to do.

They whisper to me in the dark Kind words of counsel and of cheer; When hope has flickered to a spark I feel their gentle spirits near. And Oh! because of them I strive With all the strength that I can call To keep their friendship still alive And to be worthy of them all.

Death does not end our friendships true; We all are debtors to the dead; There, wait on everything we do The splendid souls who've gone ahead. To them I hold that we are bound By double pledges to be fine. Who once has had a friend has found The link 'twixt mortal and divine.