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. {166} 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. {167} 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.