Home Lyrics: A Book of Poems Part 16

These agents blest are, water, light and air, Abundantly provided everywhere, Flowing so freely o'er the outstretched earth, That man has scarcely yet discerned their worth.

The wind is earth's great ventilating force, Water the cleansing, purifying course, Light the awakening, stimulating power, To nature as to man Heaven's priceless dower.

Important lessons they each hourly teach, Which every creature has within his reach, For the same laws that nature's rule apply To every member of G.o.d's family, Bringing stern punishment for every cause Involved in disobeying His great laws.

All honour to the band of pioneers, Who n.o.bly fought 'midst opposition sneers T' establish sanitary laws, through all Our towns and cities, for the great and small, So that preventable disease might be a.s.saulted, and stamped out effectually, And that diseases which perforce remain Might fuller scientific treatment claim; And, thanks to Heaven, the fight was not in vain, For their wise teaching was so simple, plain, That thousands were induced to join th' affray And aid the righteous scheme to win the day, So that a large share of the nation's wealth Was gained to minister to public health: And now, no longer are our towns disgraced By filthy sewage and foul noxious waste, And every corporation through the land Is bound on this wise scheme to take its stand.

Medical science tells us that the skin Is pierced by perspiratory tubes within, In countless thousands, used for drainage pores; Vessels secreting oil are found in stores, Whilst more provide for growth, and others still Carry off parts decayed with matchless skill, Each needing daily cleansing with due care, If we would health and mental vigour share.

Providing other strict conditions willed By nature, be unswervingly fulfilled.

Thus it should be our first concern to learn, The laws on which such vital interests turn.

The ambulance and cookery cla.s.ses each, In pleasant style much useful wisdom teach, But are not patronized to the extent They merit, in their practical intent.

The winter course of science lectures free A spur to much research has proved to be, Where representatives from every cla.s.s, The most delightful hours together pa.s.s.

And what a joy it is to sit at ease, Listening to words that educate and please, From master minds who know their subject well, And on its salient points delighted dwell.

These with free libraries and concerts tend Much happiness with useful work to blend; And our fair city may be proud to know, Th' uplifting forces which from them outflow.

The despotism of custom in our day To much benignant progress bars the way, While superst.i.tion, ignorance and sloth Oppose all national and mental growth.

But under education's brightening ray, And blessed reason's intellectual sway, These barriers are bound to disappear, And leave the path to progress free and clear.

The dogmatism of fashion too is crime, When injuring the human form sublime, By its stern mandates, which attract the weak, Causing them nature's holiest laws to break, By lacing tightly, to a model form, Which fashion sternly says should then be worn; This tightening in the vital organs so, Prevents the circulation's healthy flow, And thus the lungs and pliant ribs and heart, Incapable of acting out the part a.s.signed to them by nature, prove a prey To premature diseases and decay.

We talk with pious horror and regret, Of the unwise Chinese, who will not let The feet of their poor female children grow, Entailing thus unutterable woe; But when unprejudiced the reason acts, And we together scan th' appalling facts, Resulting from tight lacing, and tight shoes, We cannot conscientiously refuse, To say that of the two vile customs, ours Is certainly more culpable than theirs, While we too are not guiltless or discreet, Respecting our behaviour to our feet, Making them hobble on high heels, with toes Not half the width that should their forms enclose; So we should be more modest when we seek To satirize them and their customs-weak, Remembering that we too are much to blame, And like them merit censure and much shame.

How wisely Israel's poet songster said, That cleanliness to G.o.dliness is wed, For filthiness of body must conduct, Impurities which mental life obstruct.

How well are engineers on the alert, To keep their engines free from dust and dirt, Knowing that without such great care from them, They could not do the work required by men; So neither can we hope our bodies will Their heaven directed work aright fulfil, If their machinery is not kept free, From foul obstruction and impurity.

Science and nature then should be our guide, Instructive lessons they for all provide, Teaching us how the pleasant winds insure That atmospheric air is sweet and pure; G.o.d's antidote they are, invisible, To poisonous vapours else unbearable, Which steam from all decaying substances, Throughout the earth's wide-spread dependences.

But as men civilized do not exist Always in open air, these guides insist, That as G.o.d uses circulating air, To purify and sweeten everywhere, That we should also, through our dwellings wide An ever circulating air provide, As we, like other animals outpour, Foul, poisonous vapours too from every pore.

How well bees understand effects and cause, Of breaking ventilation's righteous laws, For see, their crowded hive with straw inlaid, Has in it but one tiny opening made, And yet the many thousand inmates there, Have better, purer, more refreshing air, Than men and women, in close bedrooms pent For seven or eight long hours, without a vent To carry off empoisoned loathsome air, That they are stupidly content to share.

If we could look within the hive we'd see, Full two score bees holding tenaciously, With firm grasp to the floor, unceasingly Flapping their tiny wings with energy, And as they fall off wearied, others come To take their place, with merry hum, And thus they work, without a moment's pause, Exemplifying ventilation's laws, By forcing good air to supplant the bad, And so escape the consequences sad Of poisonous vapours and contracted homes, For which their heaven-taught wisdom thus atones; Proving they are indeed, inspired to be Exponents of the laws of Deity.

And if still further witness is required, To prove what nature teaches be desired, Let us in fancy's aerial chariot fly To Bengal's capital, and once more try To demonstrate from just another side, The evils which infected air provide; For it is just a century ago, Calcutta furnished such a tale of woe, As surely seldom has been found before In any other country's saddest lore.

The Great Mogul of India had allowed, The English to have factories endowed, In certain parts of his dominion wide, Which soon became a source of wealth and pride, To those who laboured in them, and it chanced That a barbarian Nabob on them glanced With envious eyes, Suragah Dowlah named.

The tributary king Bengal then claimed, And this barbarian monster, one fine day Led a large army to the factory Built at Calcutta, and so suddenly Did he attack the place that the small band Of a few hundred English could not stand A moment 'gainst his several thousand men, As they at most but numbered one to ten; Defence was useless, so they wildly fled To ships within the harbour, by hope led To find a refuge there; several of whom Thereby escaped a most disastrous doom, But others were pursued and brought to bay, Which formed th' appalling history of the day, For in the wild confusion of the fight, Above six score were captured in their flight; These the victorious Nabob, had immured Within the fortress prison, well secured, Too well, alas! for the contracted den, Known as the "Black Hole of Calcutta" then, But eighteen feet in length by fourteen wide.

Could air for twenty men at most provide; And there were four score odd strong, stalwart men, Thrust into that abominable den; Having but two small holes for windows there For the admission of Heaven's blessed air, Crushed in with violent brutality, Shoulder to shoulder they stood gaspingly.

No room to stir in that accursed place, They pressed in ghastly horror, face to face; The anguish of the captives soon became Greater than any pen or word could name; The neighbourhood resounded with their cries, Which all description utterly defies, But as the night wore on, these ravings ceased, As most of the poor victims got released, From their most agonising pain, by death; Whilst the remainder scarce had gasping breath.

Thus when the morrow's blessed sun arose, It did a most revolting sight disclose, A ghastly spectacle of horror, where Were six score loathsome corpses upright there, Whilst jammed between them, in the filthy den, Were twenty-three more miserable men, Who hardly could be said to be alive, So fearfully did death among them strive To make them all his own, leaving no trace Of aught but spectre life in that vile place.

This dreadful history cannot fail to show, How fatal consequences surely flow, From disregard of the Creator's laws, For these foul poisonous vapours were the cause Of five score agonising deaths, within The s.p.a.ce of a few hours, from wilful sin.

Many such instances of equal weight, I might from various other sources state, To show what misery and direful woe, From breaking nature's laws is sure to flow; Whilst in the keeping of them, blessings pure Flow in rewards continual and sure.

Then, seeing we have so much in our power, Let us like the wise bees improve each hour, Learn of so-called barbarians, to set free The vital organs, to act easily, And to defy dogmatic customs, when They would enslave the intellect of men, No longer nature's holy precepts break; So shall sound bodies sounder minds soon make, As such a course rich blessings surely brings From the All Wise, All Mighty King of Kings.

INGRAt.i.tUDE.

Ingrat.i.tude! gaunt spectre of the mind, That is to every generous impulse blind, Offspring of nature's callous, cold and stern, Where selfishness and censure reign by turn.

Hideous these spectres to the mental sight, Black as the sable pall of darkest night, As they await the summons of the mind, That sends them forth to sting and wound mankind.

In cold response to acts of kindness born, Ingrat.i.tude replies with scathing scorn, Inflicting through these imps uncalled for pain, And treating sympathy with cold disdain.

Not only torturing others, they invent New tortures for the one by whom they're sent, Inflicting most excruciating pain, During their diabolical black reign.

Like you the picture, callous, selfish man!

If not, then shun its likeness, while you can; Let truth and justice triumph over hate, And rise triumphant to a happier state.

Displace the imps ingrat.i.tude convokes, By love-winged sprites that grat.i.tude evokes; Open thy mind to kindnesses received, And be no longer blindly self-deceived.

For grat.i.tude has angels at command, Which form an ever ready willing band, To fly on missions of all-conquering grace, As from their path those hideous imps they chase.

For darkness cannot live where there is light, And so these imps detested take their flight, Before the glories of this angel band, They could not for a single moment stand.

And the sweet balm these love-winged sprites convey, Strengthens and cheers recipients on their way; Blessing the sender no less than the one Who thus receives the grateful tribute won.

Besides, one good and self-denying deed, To many others must in order lead, And the sweet grat.i.tude that they evoke, Will other loving kindnesses provoke.

Oh, why should we refuse Heaven's proffered chance To universal happiness enhance, By doing unto others as we, too, Would wish that they to our own selves should do.

If we could only make this law our care, What untold blessings might we daily share, For every effort through this guidance made, Would be by heaven most graciously repaid.

One firm step forward in the right path makes The next more easy, and fresh courage wakes, While the sweet power of conquering bestows Acc.u.mulating interest as it grows.

And so the proudest warrior is he Who governs self with strict fidelity, While the bright laurels which he gams will last, When all earth's b.l.o.o.d.y victories are past.

TREES.

We sing the praise of flowers, and justly so, For from their beauteous petals blessings flow; But there are other countless beauties yield Blessings unnumbered in fair nature's field, Suggesting happy thoughts and pure desire, Inspiring us to string our heart's best lyre, Constraining to contentment in life's race, By making earth seem an enchanted place.

Nature of human pleasures is the Queen, Robed in her own unrivalled peerless green, Wed to the sun's all-glorious majesty, Eternal witnesses of Deity.

Friendship with her makes one sensation full Of calm delight, that heart and spirit lull.

Such meditative hours I dearly love, They seem a benediction from above; The beautiful, eternal as the true, Affords through nature inspiration new, Making each varying season of the year A revelation fresh from heaven appear.

A lawn in gentle undulations seen, Coated in verdure bright of emerald green, Margined with belts of foliage 'neath heaven's blue, With distant mingling woods of varied hue.

And mountains where the coloured _genii_ play In azure purple at the close of day, Is a grand spectacle of beauty rare, Which is a loving, lasting joy to share Whilst we remain unconscious the time's flight Steals like sweet music on the ear of night; So full of quiet rapture nature seems, We feel suffused in peace as in sweet dreams.

Observe how graceful form and symmetry Are blent in trees with kind utility, Showing the Father's scientific care, Is testified to nature every where.

The "Taliput" of fair Ceylon supplies The shade required 'neath tropic orient skies; Its leaf, impervious to sun and rain, Affords refreshing shelter for ten men.

It also forms a tent for soldiers, and A parasol for travellers through the land.

A book for scholars, a rich joy to all, Both young and aged, and dear children small, The cocoa-nut tree gracing Ceylon's fields, Materials for daily uses yields, Makes bread, wine, sugar, vinegar and yeast, Cloth, paper, ships and tents for man and beast.

See the strong oak with boldly branching arms, The delicate, light birch of airy charms; The graceful, drooping elms like fountains play; The stately poplar and rich chestnuts gay, The sugar maples towering to the sky, Like antique vases elevated high, All charged with telegrams from G.o.d above, In blessed token of His ceaseless love.

Yonder an avenue of graceful elms, Fully a mile across the landscape swells, Whose over-hanging branches form an aisle, Grander than any in Cathedral pile; Then the historic tree that was the pride Of Israel's wisest monarch, that defied The elemental strife that ages feared To build the Temple Solomon upreared.

Cedars of Lebanon! how proudly they In tens of thousands clothed the mountain way, In age-timed friendship with each throbbing star, A miracle of beauty near and far.

Now only seven of these trees remain, Grand landmarks to the Arabs of the plain, Who in their shade their altars consecrate, And their umbrageous shelter venerate.

London has full six thousand acres laid In parks, for public recreation made; Paris its Tuileries, with Fontainebleau, St. Cloud, Versailles, where lovely fountains flow, Vienna its great Prater, Frankfort too, New York its Central Park in verdure new; Whilst other towns and cities everywhere, Are vieing each with each such joys to share All exercise important sway supreme, On public health and morals felt and seen.

By their community of pleasures pure, Which rich and poor can equally insure, These public gardens with their lakes and flowers Preach better temperance lectures than the showers Of eloquence their advocates display, On thirsting toilers of the working day.

They form a sweet oasis from the care And dissipations of the city's glare, Where families of young and old may meet, And friends on equal terms each other greet.

A people must its pleasures have, and so, Whether they're virtuous, poisonous, fast or slow, Depend on the directing minds that lead The city's councils met for public need; So it should be our great concern to see Our rulers men of whole-souled charity.

Let national be rational delight, Made profitable to each cla.s.s by right, That public parks may be a joy to all, Men, women, rich and poor, and children small.

That, as in Germany, the people may Find healthful pleasures in them day by day.