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MY CREED |
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OW, this is the simple, living faith of a humble heart and mind, Drunk up from the storm-brewed Western streams, breathed in
with the prairie wind. My paints are crude and my pictures rude, but if some worth
they show Which those may see v/ho have thoughts as free, the rest may let them go.
I hold that the things which make earth good may work most
harm in use If the wit of men heed not the line 'twixt temperance and abuse, For speech or mood, or drink or food may be a curse at will, Though, rightly weighed, they only aid the cup of life to fill.
I hold that the silent sea and plain, the mountain, wood, and
down, Are better haunts for the feet of men than the streets of the
roaring town, And that those who tread for the price of bread in the thronging
hives of toil Will stronger grow with the more they know of the kiss of the
virgin soil.
I hold that our sons should learn to love, not gods of gold and
greed, But the virile men of brain and brawn who served our country's
need, And should more delight in a clean-cut fight, stout blade and
courage whole, That the morbid skill of a critic's drill in the core of a sin-sick
soul.
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