[Illustration of a young girl looking at a distant castle. She’s standing next to a tree that frames the right and top. Her feet, in heels, stand in the midst of scattered leaves. Her skirt and scarf wave in the breeze coming from the castle’s direction. The middle ground is rolling hills. The sky behind the castle has billowing clouds. Art piece is signed “Harvey Fuller.”] The Pupil (1927) A father’s highest vision, A mother’s fondest prayer Are centered in the future Of that wee fellow there. They roused him from his slumber, And dressed him in his best. They sent him out, and trusted That you would do the rest. The weary planet needs him, And patiently will wait For him to bring his service Down to the future’s gate. He is the hope it treasures. It wants him strong and true. It sends him to your classroom, And leaves the rest to you. Requisition (1927) Give me a quiet road to take Where roses deign to grow. Where sunbeams fall, and robins wake, And trees their shadows throw. Give me a little place to try To do my human part, And make my work as days go by A picture of my heart. Give me a hearth where I may be When twilight shrouds the West, With dear ones there to sit with me, And you may have the rest. Sanctuary (1927) GOD has a place, and it is never far, Where reach vast arches over golden gates, Where quiet aisles and vaulted ceilings are, And where a spacious altar always waits; A place where weary souls may freely come, Hearts torn by earth’s sharp thorns a refuge find, Sad, lonely spirits feel again at home, And all find rest and balm for heart and mind. It is a house of walls not made with hands. None sees it save the broken child of care. In every place of woe and need it stands, Wherever sorrow dares to breathe a prayer. The weakest, poorest, farthest spirit, tried By grim pursuers of defeat and pain, May claim its shelter. Then when tears are dried It waits in silence till they fall again. The Secret (1927) OLD Uncle John is a success, And all his efforts have not hit it. One day we asked him to confess, To all of us just how he did it. “I hardly know, myself,” said he, “But my conviction still is growing, That there’s no fancy recipe. You just begin--and keep on going.” “Don’t wait for things to come just right, For very seldom do they do it. Select a road, then day and night, Through storm and sunshine, still pursue it. Don’t stand debating what is best. The sands of life are swiftly flowing. Most any worthy course is blest, If you begin--and keep on going.” Sight and Faith (1927)