The wheels keep on turning

In the heart and in the mind,

With thoughts ever churning

Of every shape and kind.


So many great conversations

On which to ponder and think,

From all the past generations

That came and went in a blink.


And yet in books both word and thought

Remain of those who lived and died,

And fools we’d be to think them naught

For new-bred thoughts of men untried.


How easy men tradition break

And some brand-new idea hail,

But oh, the terrors in its wake

The untried thought doth trail!


So I will get me to great books

And read of men gone past the stories,

That I might find the humble nooks

Avert some dangers, find men’s glories.


Alone we are, yet not alone,

For tales passed down of yonder star,

Still cheer, fill heart and home

With hope no shadow oe’r men can bar.


And by the light passed down by these

May I soon rise, and follow suit

Not “held back,” nor bound to please

But now for my charge strap my boot.


And yet the comfort it does lend

To know that men have gone before,

Who ran their race to the very end

Some well; some less, some more.


All that a man can do is “well,”

(His not to know of time nor tide),

Yet every man when rings that bell

Is called to stand, and thus be tried.


Yet it may be that burdens borne

Are made the lighter by friends of old

Who through the page of some lost tome

Reached out kindly, and through its fold


Illumine softly the trail of men

Who patiently down this road do wend

For they themselves had in their ken

A light passed on by souls that penned.




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