To An Athlete Dying Young

In Memory of:
     Nodar Kumaritashvili [1988-2010]
     2010 Winter Olympics:  Luge [Georgia]

The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.

To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.

Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.

Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:

Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.

So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.

And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl's.

--A.E. Housman

UNDERSTANDING

How blind men are! We surely cannot know
And judge the way men go!
Perhaps the grind of hectic years
Has won at last.

How sharp--how cruel can human judgments be!
The inmost heart of men we cannot see.
Thus has it been since time began;
Lay down the bruising stones we cast.

Of all the virtues which heaven has to give--
May it be with understanding that we live!

--H.W. Bliss

Casual Meeting

We met upon a crowded street one day,
  And for a fleeting space her glance held mine;
But we were strangers, there was nought to say,
  So each passed on without a spoken sign.

Her eyes were deep and questioning, yet kind,
  But were the eyes of one whose will was strong--
Of one who had a keen and eager mind,
  And made of life a brave and buoyant song.

Strange, how this casual meeting stays with me,
  When things of far more magnitude have fled,
And yet the thought of it will always be
  Something to cherish, though no words were said.

--Margaret E. Bruner

COMMUNION

Quietly I enter the closet
Quietly I close the door.
Outside are the futilities,
The doubts and useless struggles;
Forgotten are the little things
That too long have shackled my mind
And held me prisoner.

Now unhurried and free
I contemplate God,
His mercy and His love,
Patiently I wait.

Lo, out of the shadows
Comes His presence.
Silently we visit.
From His wounded hand
I receive His balm
And His comfort.
I rest.

The door to the world is opened!
Eagerly I pass,
No longer futile, Nor fearful,
Nor yet alone.
No longer I,
But, We!

--P.M. Snider

Too Late

What silences we keep, year after year
With those who are most near to us, and dear!
We live beside each other day by day,
And speak of myriad things, but seldom say
The full, sweet word that lies within our reach
Beneath the common ground of common speech.

Then out of sight and out of reach they go--
These close, familiar ones who loved us so;
And, sitting in the shadow they have left,
Alone with loneliness, and sore bereft,
We think with vain regret of some fond word
That once we might have said and they have heard.

This is the cruel cross of life--to be
Full visioned only when the ministry
Of death has been fulfilled, and in the place
Of some dear presence is but empty space.
What recollected services can then
Give consolation for the "might have been"?

--Nora Perry

Little Things

It's just the little homely things,
  The unobtrusive, friendly things,
The "won't-you-let-me-help-you" things,
  That make our pathway light--
And it's just the jolly, joking things,
  The "never-mind-the-trouble" things,
The "laugh-with-me, it's funny" things
  That make the world seem bright.

For all the countless famous things,
  The wondrous, record-breaking things,
Those "never-can-be-equalled" things
  That all the papers cite,
Aren't like the little human things,
  The everyday-encountered things,
The "just-because-I-like-you" things
  That make us happy quite.

So here's to all the simple things,
  The dear "all-in-a-day's-work" things,
The "smile-and-face-your-troubles" things,
  Trust God to put them right!
The "done-and-then-forgotten" things,
  The "can't-you-see-I-love-you" things,
The hearty "I-am-with-you" things
  That make life worth the fight.

--Author Unknown

WORK

How true it is when I am sad,
A little work can make me glad.
When frowning care comes to my door,
I work a while and fret no more.
I leave my couch harassed with pain,
I work, and soon I'm well again.
When sorrow comes and vain regret,
I go to work and soon forget.
Work soothes the soul when joys depart,
And often mends a broken heart.
The idle mind soon fills with murk,
So that's why God invented work.

--J.W. Thompson