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- Hello, Boys! - 10/13 -

We were a baker's dozen in the house--six women and six men Besides myself; and all of us had known Those benefits supposed to come from school and church and brush and pen, And opportunities of being thrown In contact with the cultured and the gifted people of the day. Being the thirteenth one among six pairs I deemed it wise to keep apart and let the others have their say: And from my vantage-place upon the stairs, Or in a corner, where I seemed to read, I listened for some word That would make life seem sweeter, or cast light Upon the goal toward which all footsteps wend: and this was what I heard Throughout each day and half of every night. The men talked business, politics, and trade; They told of safe investments, and great chances For speculation. (One man who had made Pleasure his art, described the newest dances And dwelt upon each chasse, glide, and whirl As lovers dwell upon the charms of some fair girl.)

They talked of war, and tried to find its cause, And quite deplored the fact that wars must come. But since this desperate condition was, They carefully computed what the sum Of profit might be to a land of peace, And wondered if times would be harder should war cease.

They spoke of games and sports; told many a story That made the listeners laugh; then back from these Always they harked to money, or the gory And savage drama playing overseas. Then there were tales from club and smoking-room - The submarines of gossip, bringing some name doom.

The women talked of fashions and of plays, But more of players and their private lives; Related tittle-tattle of their words and ways, Their lightning change of husbands and of wives. And there was chat of garments and their price, Of operas and balls and all that gives life spice.

Some talk there was of music, pictures, books, But of musicians, painters, authors, more. The way they lived--their methods and their looks - The colour of their eyes--the clothes they wore; And whether it was true, as had been stated, That gifted people were quite sure to be mis-mated.

They talked of servants, menus, and disease, And operations. Each one came in line With some astounding tale to tell of these, And of her surgeon's skill, which seemed divine. But of that vast Domain where live our dead And where we all are hurrying, no word was said.

When we know that goal awaits each one of us a little farther on, When we know how an ever-increasing company of friends is gathered there, Why do we not speak of it in our daily conversation? Why do we not familiarise our minds with thoughts of worlds unseen? There are many beautiful things to be learned of that country. There are sacred books of great travellers, whose souls have cried, 'Hail across the border';

There are truths which have been learned in visions and by revelations: All the revelations were not given to St. John alone, All the wise men of the world did not die two thousand years ago! Why do we not talk of these eternal truths, Instead of wasting all our words on the evanesent, the ever- changing, the trivial, and the unimportant? There is but one important theme, and that is Life Immortal.


I saw fond lovers in that glow That oft-times fades away too soon: I saw and said, 'Their joy I know - I, too, have had my honeymoon.'

A young expectant mother's gaze Held earth and heaven within its scope: My thoughts went back to holy days - I said, 'I, too, have known that hope.'

I saw a stricken mother swayed By sorrow's storm, like wind-blown grass: I said, 'I, too, dismayed Have seen the little white hearse pass.'

I saw a matron rich with years Walk radiantly beside her mate: I blessed them, and said through my tears, 'I, too, have known that high estate.'

I saw a woman swathed in black So blind with grief she could not see: I said, 'Not far need I look back - I, too, have known Gethsemane.'

I saw a face so full of light, It seemed with all God's truths to shine: I said, 'I, too, have found my sight, I, too, have touched the Fact Divine.'


'He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches.'--St. John the Divine.

The Spirit says unto the churches, 'Ere ever the churches began I lived in the centre of Being - The life of the Purpose and Plan; I flowed from the mind of the Maker Through nature to man.

'I sleep in the glow of the jewel, I wake in the sap of the tree, I stir in the beast of the forest, I reason in man, and am free To turn on the path of Ascension To the god yet to be.

'I was, and I am, and I will be; I live in each church and each faith But yield to no bond and no fetter, I animate all with my breath; I speak through the voice of the living And I speak after death.'

The Spirit says unto the churches, 'The dead are not gone, they are near And my voice, when I will it, speaks through them, Speaks through them in messages clear. And he that hath ears, in the silence May listen and hear.'

The Spirit says unto the churches, 'So many the feet that have trod The road leading up into knowledge, The steep narrow path has grown broad; And the curtain held down by old dogmas Is lifted by God.'


What is the end of each man's toil, Brother, O Brother? A handful of dust in a bit of soil - His name forgotten as centuries roll, Though blazoned to-day on Glory's scroll; For the lordliest work of brain or hand Is only an imprint made on sand; When the tidal wave sweeps over the shore It is there no more, Brother, my Brother.

Then what is the use of striving at all, Brother, O Brother? Because each effort or great or small Is a step on the long, long road that leads To the Kingdom of Growth on the River of Deeds: And that is the kingdom no man can gain Till he uses his hand and his mind and brain, And when he has used them and learned control He finds his soul, Brother, my Brother.

And after he finds it, what is the end, Brother, O Brother? Upward ever its course and trend; For this is the purpose and aim and plan To seek in the soul for the Super-man - The man who is conscious that Heaven is near - A bulletin bearer from There to Here, Finding God dwells in the spirit within Where He ever has been, Brother, my Brother.

And what will the God-man do when He comes, Brother, O Brother? He will better the world or in courts or slums, He will do in gladness his nearest duty:

Hello, Boys! - 10/13

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