by Ruth Smeltzer

To the thorns of life I’m more indebted
Than I am to the roses sweet;
They will not let me lie inactive
While round me there are tasks to meet.
They spur me on to nobler action,
Nor long allow me quiet ease,
But keep on pricking at my conscience–
And often drive me to my knees.




by Patience Strong (1907-1990)

The man looked at the mountain and the mountain at the man.
Scornfully it seemed to say, “Come, climb me if you can.”
The mountain was a giant with his shoulders in the sky,
The man a midget little more than sixty inches high.
But he had something more than height: a mind, a soul, a will,
A dream, a passionate desire, and so with patient skill
He moved with cautious steps upon the rocky, icy slope,
Climbing with a faith unbounded and a mighty hope.
With mist and storm and avalanche the mountain fought that day,
As over chasm, cliff, and gorge the climber made his way,
And reached the summit. Nature’s forces wild and fierce and blind
Were overcome and conquered by a midget with a mind.


Not How Much Is Your Gold

by Vincent Godfrey Burns (1893-1979)

Not how much is your gold,
Not how great are your lands;
How kind is your heart?
How clean are your hands?

Not knowledge nor pride,
Not a crown nor a creed;
Have you found the good life,
Have you helped those in need?

What good did you find
On your way to the goal?
How broad is your mind?
How sweet is your soul?

Not How Much Is Your Gold

Found another great, old poem

by George F. Viett (1868-1943)

“Life more abundant!”
This the glad tidings
Blazoned in cosmic light
Girdling the earth;
“Many the mansions”
For our abidings
In these myriad stars
Of man’s birth and re-birth.

Each star a paradise
Brighter and fairer
For pilgrims ascending
Unfettered of sin;
Life more abundant
Richer and rarer–
With spirits congenial
Loved friends, and kin.

They shall come dancing
Down hills of Gladness
To meet us and greet us
With welcoming song;
With balm for life’s wounds,
And surcease from its madness–
The wrath and the wreck
Of the world, and its wrong.

There are endless new Edens
For those who shall merit–
In these beautiful worlds
Where we linger awhile,
And the radiance of Heaven
For those who can bear it–
For those on whom Virtue
And Justice shall smile.

This is the story
Of new life unmeasured–
Of man’s august pilgrimage
Through the infinite stars;
And somewhere, in glory,
God’s guests are gathered;
Freed from the fetters
Of flesh and its scars–


Found another great, old poem