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A man whose soul is pure and strong, whose

sword is bright and keen, Who knows the splendour of the fight and what

its issues mean ; Who never takes one step aside, nor halts,

though hope be dim, But cleaves a pathway thro' the strife, and bids

men follow him.

No blot upon his stainless shield, no weakness

in his arm ; No sign of trembling in his face to break his

valor's charm : One man like this could stay the flight and lead

the wavering line; Ah, give me but a year of life — I'll make that

glory mine! Religion ? Yes, I know it well; I've heard its

prayers and creeds, And seen men put them all to shame with poor,

half-hearted deeds. They follow Christ, but far away; they wander

and they doubt. I'll serve him in a better way, and live his pre

cepts out.

You see, I've waited just for this; I could not

be content To own a feeble, faltering faith with human

weakness blent. Too many runners in the race move slowly,

stumble, fall; But I will run so straight and swift I shall out

strip them all.

Oh, think what it will mean to men, amid their

foolish strife, To see the clear, unshadowed light of one true

Christian life, Without a touch of selfishness, without a taint

of sin, With one short month of such a life a new world

would begin!

And love!-I often dream of that the treasure

of the earth; How little they who use the coin have realized

its worth! 'T will pay all debts, enrich all hearts, and make

all joys secure. But love, to do its perfect work, must be sincere

and pure.

My heart is full of virgin gold. I'll pour it out

and spend My hidden wealth, with lavish hand, on all who

call me friend. Not one shall miss the kindly deed, the largess

of relief, The generous fellowship of joy, the sympathy

of grief.

I'll say the loyal, helpful things that make life

sweet and fair, I'll pay the gratitude I owe for human love and

care. Perhaps I've been at fault sometimes— I'll ask

to be forgiven, And make this very room of mine seem like a

little heaven.

For one by one I'll call my friends to stand be

side my bed; I'll speak the true and tender words that I have

left unsaid ; And every heart shall throb and glow, all cold

ness melt away Around my altar-fire of love - ah, give me but

one day !

What's that? I've had another day, and

wasted it again? A priceless day, in empty dreams, - another

chance in vain ? Thou fool - this night - it's very dark - the

last - this choking breath One prayer — have mercy on a dreamer's soul

God, this is death.

SEVEN SMALL SONGS IN DIFFERENT KEYS

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