From ages immemorial they’ve scratched my patient face With plow, and pick, and shovel, in all confidence and grace. They’ve dug their springs, and sunk their wells, and made their post holes, too, Wherever it has pleased their passing fancy so to do. But here of late they seem to feel that more is wrong with me Than to the specialists who came at first there seemed to be. They’ve stopped the minor surgery--it seemed to be too light --And started on a major scale to set my system right. They sink a shaft a solid mile through rock, and sand, and clay. They go right into it with drills and bore the livelong day. They cut a tunnel through a hill, and make the two ends fit. They chop away as though they thought it didn’t hurt a bit. They change the course of rivers and the shape of waterfalls. They dig deep excavations for their bridges and their walls. A major operation of some kind has come to be A kind of daily diet, in these latter days, with me. [Poem is surrounded by photos of earth-working equipment in action around the world (clockwise from top-right corner): Egypt, New Zealand, Formosa, Chile, Rhodesia, Sicily, Dutch East Indies, Honduras, Ireland, Nigeria, India, and U.S.A.] Evolution (1928) A shining automobile Was standing at the curb. A glib and crafty salesman Was handing out his blurb. A bicycle was leaning Its well-worn handle bar Against a post--the early Ancestor of the car. Then, snorting down the pavement, A motorcycle flew, Pausing between the cycle And car so bright and new. “Aha,” the auto whispered, “I have evolved, I think, From that bicycle yonder, And here’s the missing link.” Faith v1928 If you cast out Into the outer darkness of your mind All about which you can conceive a doubt, Or find some strange and vain excuse to flout, Or charge to ages credulous and blind, All about which the whole world is not sure, My friend, you will be pitifully poor. If your faith clings To all the good, and beautiful, and right, That the experience of ages brings, And offers as the necessary things That stand forever by truth’s simple might, Believing each till it is found untrue, The heart’s unmeasured riches are for you. Freedom v1928 Freedom to make the sturdy climb From sodden depths to heights sublime; Freedom to seek Truth’s ready aid In mastering a chosen trade; Freedom to play an honest part, And make some worthy work an art; Freedom to struggle with a smile-- That is the freedom worth the while. Freedom to keep a heart that sings Amid the fret and drive of things; Freedom to serve with heart, and mind, And hand, the races of mankind; Freedom to meet the fiercest test Knowing that one has done his best; Freedom to trudge the upward mile-- That is the freedom worth the while. The Harness (1928)