early in his life. Many of these appear original, although there are some indications here and there of poems Clark may have been copying from another author. Those more familiar with poetry or are willing to do research on this may verify or refute this hypothesis.
I've left typos unedited. In some cases, the writing is quite difficult to decipher, so I'm not entirely positive that everything that follows is correct. Those who are interested can compare what follows to the original photos linked above.
After transcribing the pages, I ran the pages with foreign languages (pgs. 1, 27, 20, 40, and 41) through google translate and came up with the following:
Pg. 1 translation:
The bigger the rose, the bigger the thorn
The smaller the girls, the greater the anger
Let the flowers stand still
And the bush
Others who pass by
Rejoice too
Pg. 27 translation:
Life is vain
A little love
A little rain
And good morning
Life is good
A little hope
A little rain
And good evening
Pg. 30
He brings peace
Peace is gentle
Longing, you,
And what quenches it
Pg. 40
I, the Lord your husband, am a zealous God
Pg. 41
V. G I am certain in my dying day
That death will not kill me
He no longer makes me an heir
From the blessed Canaan
Another life follows this;
My Jesus Christ: I am certain.
____
Y. I am certain, so it shall be said
Until faith becomes shame;
Nothing shall tear me from Jesus
I am his sheep, he is my shelter.
For eternity no tear flies here,
The motto remains: I am certain.
Benj. Schmold 1737
I am certain in my faith
Which embodies me in Christ.
Who can rob me of this little thing
Which his blood prescribes for me under death?
No precious word confirms this.
Therefore, my faith says: I am certain.
____
I am certain in my love
That only Jesus lives and moves.
That when I practice faith,
Jesus lives in my heart.
His body is my paradise.
He loves me: I am certain.
___
I am certain in my life that
Jesus' grace is with me,
Which helps me lift all my joys;
When my heart clings to His
Then I regard no obstacle.
God cares for me: I am certain.
Finally, on page 30, a poem by Clark ends with some dashed lines. Given the rhyming scheme, number of dashes, and spaces between certain dashes, I think they were meant to be left "unspoken" and for the intended reader (Clark's wife, Ruth) to fill in. See the brackets for my interpretation, and see later in this post (or page 30 in the above link) for the original:
Calm Commandments
Gift to heaven sentiment
Sweetheart Ruthie, true
Simple, plainly
But not vainly
Darling [I love you]
Here follows the transcription of the pages:
1918-1920, 1927. Poetry by Clark.
Je grosser die Rose je grosser der Dorn
Je Kleiner die Madchen je grosser der Zorn
Original has an old word e Madchen
Lasset die Blumen stefin
Und den Strauch
Andere, die voruber gehn
Freuen sich auch
} in the wooded hills
Found in Algebra[?] of William Clark
Dated 1873. Signed
O Phiddle Styx
The distance may sever
Thine image from me
My spirit will ever
Cling fondly to thee;
In absence twill hover
Round pleasures of yore
And sigh to liver over
Those memories once more
- O phiddle Styx
Awake again!, where cannon boom
And all is blood and gore,
Tis there that MEN give up their lives
For King or Emperor.
I listen to a soldier hum
He hums a grand old tune;
And as new words flashthru my mind
I fall into a swoon.
It's a long way back to Kentucky
It's 'a long way to go,
It's a long way back to ~Kentucky
Where the sweetest grasses grow.
Good-bye my old Kentucky
Farewell blue grass too
For it's much too far to old Kentucky
So blue grass----------adieu
1918
A HORSE!
A horse, that's all, and wounded,
Ashell has split my side,
Others are lying near me
and here we must abide.
Oh, for just one drink of water
And oh, to be back home,
If only this war were over
I never more would roam.
These tho'ts came crowding to my brain
Till one tho't stood supreme,
And falling asleep on the banks of the Marne
I dreamt this wonderful dream.
'A colt.I stood with my mother,
A colt, once more, and free
I went skipping around the pasture,
No one could happier be
I nibbled at the sweet young grass
I frisked about and played
Oh, how I love that pasture
I wish 1 there had stayed.
IF YOU'RE NOT A SOLDIER!!
Breathes there a man with soul so dead
That never to himself hath said:-
"The boys are beating Kaiser Bill
While I am sitting safe and still
Why not get up and battle too
And do the best a man can do?
Does not my heart within me burn
When tward Berlin their face turn?
Can I not help this struggle on?
Why, I've been sleeping far too long
I cannot fight, alas, it's true
So really now, what can I do?
I know! I'll pour my pockets out
And with my gold the foe I'll rout;
And I'll do my bit for ages beyond
By buying a government
LIBERTY BOND!”
1918
A SOLDIER'S AID
In God's Acre far from fighting
Thy dead body now reposes
With a wooden cross above thee
While the daylight softly closes.
Thou art heelless of the sorrows
And the strife of bitter factions
Of the storms of human passion
Of our armies ani their actions.
When the moil of day is ended
And the sun-god sinks to setting,
When the strife of war is over
With its taking and its getting;
Then to thee my thoughts returning
Making trench-like e'en more sadd'nig
But it helps me in the struggle
Ever near this noise so madd'ning.
In these hours so dark with sorrow
When great multitudes are weeping
Aid me ever in this struggle,
Thou, who art so lowly sleeping
1918
THE END OF A PERFECT DAY.
(translated in 1919)
Quani tu finis un parfait jour
Et reate seul pensivement
Tantque le soleil couche, toujours
La paix est ton sentiment.
Tu pense a c’'qu'l'fin d'un parfait jour
Veut dire aux coeurs fatigues
Et tu veux que le fin d'un parfait jour
Survive par toute l'annee.
WAR!
Grass green gas, screeching screaming shells
Mud, full of trenches, what a Hell of hells
Nearly drowned in rain,suffocating mud
There, falls another man with an unheard thud.
Crucified Canadiens, Frenchmen torture too
Belgians with their eyes gouged out
Who says this is not, true!!
PEACE?
No longer do the shells harass
The youthful swain and country lass
Their homes are nearly built again
No longer are they drenched in rain.
Gas-green grass once more in found
Nearly covering' all the ground.
Peaceful home again exist
Safe from the Boches iron fist.
But, they're still across the Rhine
Watching!Waiting!to cross the line
To kill your father and maltreat you
Oh remember!
SOUVENEZ-VOUS!
1919
LIFE!
Tell! what is the use of living
Life's nothing but drudgery and gloom
It's all just giving and getting
To vanish away at your doom
It's trouble and sorrow and grief
Then to that is added some more
It's a good thing life's only brief
And then all our sorrow is o’er
1919
GERMAN ADVANCE.
Clod was the wind that arrived from the north
Dark was the ruin on which the child lay,
Lips from which words would be once spoken forth,
Once, and then closed till the great judgernent day.
Opened her eyes half and then did she speak
“Parents are dead and so here now I lie,
Huns killed my father because I was I meek weak
No one is near me so now let me die”
Happy and gay were the people of France
Working their farms in the warm August sun
When the news came on the savage advance
Made by the still more detestible hun,
Innocent children, aged women and men
Only dared stay at the risk of their life
Horrldly, beastly they came from their den
Plunging the world into long bitter strife
Then came the soldiers, true Frenchman of zeal
Belgians and English on victory bent
Anxious to suffer all woe and no weal
Conquer the Germans and they’d be content.
The Belgians did well but the English did better
The Frenchmen excelled till the Yankees arrived,
Commands were obeyed up to the last letter
And yet it still seemed as if the huns thrived.
Back of the lines was a girl nearly starved
Only a child who escaped from the hun
Shivering,suffering all unobserved none.
Father and brothers and relatives
Intense more and more her suffering grew
Till past all her suffering she laid alone
Offering a prayer to the world, said adieu
No one but God heard except the hard stone. 1919
LA TOMBE DIT A LA ROSE V. Hugo
The grave, said to the rose:-
The tears with which the morn arose
What doest, thou,lovely flower?"
The rose said the the groave:-
"What doest thou with the brave
Whom you in your jaws devour?"
The rose said;- "O solemn grave
With the tears the daybreak grave,
Golden perfume,as sweet can be.”
The grave said:- "O sad flower
With the souls that come each hour,
Angels of eternity."
Translated at C.S.S. in 1919
CLASS POEM.
Northeast High School
June 1920
Today we're gathered here to celebrate
With saddened joy, and to commemorate
Our passing from this school, in which these years,
Four long ones past, we've spent, and naught endears
It more to us than this our death, our birth,
The two combined on this one day of mirth.
Our death because no more we'll wander thru
These halls of laughter bursting forth anew
At every turn; qur birth because demise
Is but the threshold to the ecxtacies
Of after-life, and preparation here
Must joined be with full fruition there
And this, our graduation, is that link
Which joins the two, and sure no one could shrink
To take the step which leads him o'er the brink.
The retrospect is pleasant now, the time
We've spent has well been spent and quite sublime
The pleasures we've enjoyed. We now look back
And happily the happenings , no lack
Of fun, relate. No Philtres needed here
To make to us our old Northeast more dear.
But later on, will those same happenings seem
As fine? The joy we'll then derive, supreme
Will be; as in a journey with small stones
Beneath the foot our heart makes many groans
Because those stones are sharp, but at the end,
When we look back, invisibly they blend,
Into the path, and only points are seen
Where leafy trees, their shadows on the green
Bestow, on which we rested when the sun
Blazing hot with fury. Just so later on
Twill be, when we look back, and think, we'll see
The happier spots, the brighter days, and we
Will never view the dark obscurity.
From time to time a visit we will pay
And once again enjoy in this dear, gay,
Old place the fellowship of friend with friend.
And in mosaic of the neatest blend
Our memory will piece together all
The pleasant scenes, and we will then recall
Today, and how we now enjoy the pun
These class day wits will make upon each one
Of us. We’ll linger in our thoughts on how
We sat beneath each prof whose Zeus-like brow
Enlightened us, and how he thought us bright
When we might study on th’ eventful night
Before the last exam, and how we wrote
In briefest time the verse on which they dote,
The profs, I mean for literary taste
Has been with us a desolated waste.
Nor in the study of our mother tongue
Alone, do we deserve to be unsung
But still, to us a few good points belong.
These four years past, we've traveled long and far
From deepest ocean bed to farthest star.
We’ve learned why most things work, we’re ready now
To join the busy world and show them how
To run things in a better way. Maybe,
The several future presidents you see
Here, will make politics so fair that all
The nation will be pleased and people shall
Contented be for once. These physicists
New laws discover, these economists,
Forever settle all disputes between
Imperial capital, and labor keen
About its injured self. We've studied them
And know their ins and outs, the stratagem
That's needed to produce results. No more?
We've ranged in realms of Rome and Greece, galore
The heros we have met. Aeneas good
We've followed thru has wanderings, the blood
Of men have we seen spilt before the gates
Of Troy. We've watched the swelling tide of hates
O’erwhelm and drown them all in one vast mass
Of straining struggling limbs, on that morass
OfTeucre's shore. There’s Bryseis substitute,
For Helen, there's Ulysses, man astute
He was; and all th'Olympian tribe of gods
Together with a host of demi gods.
But what care we? The dreaded end is past.
We stand for graduation here, at last
And no one can our finished purpose blast.
It is with saddened joy we celebrate
This passing' from our school; we graduate
To know that when we do return, the one
To whom our hearts are bound in love, has gone.
With bands of loving kindness has he bound
His heart to us; and sharp will be the wound
Resulting from the severence of these ties,
O honoured one, most humble, yet most wise.
Just as the Fates would cut the cord of life
And end for mortal man his mundane strife,
So will it seem with us, for we have long
Been guided by his steady hand; among
The treacherous rocks of school-boy days, has he
Our pilot been, and very skilfully
Has guided us through out the times of storm.
Just as the wise Clothanthus , seeing' harm
In hidden reefs, has rightly led his ship
In skilful manner that he might outstrip
The rest and win that race of old, just so
Have we been led; our ship, it may careen
A bit when he , who up till now has been
Our helmsman true, has vanished from the scene.
The forests vanish, and the mountain too,
The seas dry up and e'en the earth must go;
A block of granite crumbles slow away,
The sun no more will give the light of day;
The stars and all their systems disappear,
There's naught that does not change from year to year;
Ourselves must shortly pass by too, and give
Our place to others, naught can e'er survive;
BUT, when a name, is carved deep upon
The hearts of men, the memory lingers on.
LA SOURCE
Quite near a lake, there starts a source
Between two stones, a ·corner in;
With joy the water shapes its course
As is at last the sea to win.
It murmurs soft: "Oh what a joy
Beneath the earth it all was night
And. Here I taste without alloy
The grass so green in bright sunlight.
The myosotis in flowers of blue
Weretelling me: Forget-me-not:
And dragon flies as here they flew
Would brush me by in their gavot.
At my side birds drink their fill.
Who knows? Perhaps a turn or two
And I can turn a massive mill,
A river to the mystic blue.
I may embellish with my foam
A great stone bridge or granite pier
Or carry steamers to and from
On the ocean's vasty mere.”
Thus prattles on the little stream,
A hundred projects, like an elf,
Boasting joyous in its dream.
Its wave cannot contain itself.
But its cradle is its tomb,
The future giant dies quite small,
Hardly born, it meets its doom
In the lake which drinks it all.
Trans. fr.
Th. Guatier.
1920.
A THOUGHT!
The charming night
Of soft moonlight
So clear, so bright
Steals away my soul.
Oh, that I might
At such a height
By truth and right
Attain that perfect goal.
The night I see
Brings back to me
A memory
Of when I asked a boon.
Its purity
Is right lovely
I wish to be
Like that clear pure moon.
You, for my mate
Did hesitate
And sealed my fate
That lovely night of June
Tis now too late
To imitate
The moon so great
Or sing its tender tune.
1920
BALLADE.
He asked: "Does work or leisure make the man?"
To answer I will do the best I can.
The man who works from morn to night at things
Whose interest lie in but the cash it brings
To him, is not the one who by his work
Is lead into the place where honors lurk.
I think that he belongs to labor's clan,
Altho, it all depends upon the man.
But let us try a nobler type of life
The one who,bothered not with money's strife
Rejects the tasks of smaller consequence
Attains a philosophic excellence
Takes cognizance of osophies and isms
Invented by all men in divers schisms.
There is but work, no leisure for that dan
Altho, it all depends upon the man.
There is between these different types, a one
Who works at work and of times plays at fun
Of all the men there are, most numerous,
The happy medium, not frivolous.
Nor yet too sapient for their own good.
These are who make a happy brotherhood.
To arbitrary state, tis a trapan
Because it all depends upon the man.
L’ENVOI
Philosophers, when you this puzzle try
To find an answer, work until you die
I've answered it, it is the best one can,
Tis this:- "It all depends upon the man.”
1920
LIMERICKS.
A Ford is a notable thing
It starts to go with a bing
It can run over nails
And puppy dog tails
And still look fit for a king.
* * * * *
The lim'rick is poor kind of verse
Perhaps, maybe, it needs a nurse,
If I say what I think
You all would turn pink
For it ought to be put in a hearse.
* * * * *
English is pretty good stuff
We all like it, rather enough,
But this sort of dope
Takes from us all hope
Of getting away with the bluff.
1920
To You
Sometimes I have a sudden dread
That I might never see you more
And the thing remain unsaid
Which I've not told before.
It is a fearful sort of thing
That suddenly o'ertakes me
And gives to me a biting sting
I wish it would forsake me;
But now I have the chance this time
To tell it collectaneous
In this littly jingling' rhyme,
A piece extemoraneous.
It's simply this:- I love the shore
I, love the virgin forest too
But things like those I love the more
Because I first loved you.
1920
RAIN
(As viewed by a young boy)
Pitter patter, spitter spatter
The rain comes tumbling down
It's fin and good for country folk
But it's no darn good in town.
The streets get wet, you can't spin tops
And you can't shoot marbles too,
Because the dirt is soft and moist
And the pot hole full of goo.
Try to think of a game of nibs
Being played on a rainy day
Your shooter best like all the rest
Ernbedded in a ton of clay.
Or if you can imagine plaese
A game, of' hide and go,
Secure in a place, best chance to reach base
And you slip in a puddle, oh woe!
And when it rains. it rains alway
There's never any end
It rains all night, it rains all day
On that you may depend.
Pitter patter, spitter spatter,
The rain still tumbles down
It may be good for country folk
But it’s no darn good in town.
1920
Dec. 31 1920.
Tis finished, 1920's past and gone,
Its work is over and its labor done,
Or else, not done. Its hopes and. fears, its joys
And tears will be forgotten soon, the boys
Of yester-year will be the men to-day
The men of yester-year will pass away.
And so the endless cycle runs, the world
Holds nothing new except the old unfurl’d
Before our eyes, tis we who are the new.
And tis for us to learn the old, review
The past in present time, not to know much
And then to pass away like others such.
But oh! you 1921; - you’re here
If you smile fair, or if you are austere
We have to battle on, but soon, at last,
Safe in our Father's home, the harbor past
We'll be; the start of still another year.
1920
My Love ----
T'were vain to feign
There's no impression,
For you impress.
The song is wrong
Without confession
And I confess
---My love.
1920
MOONLIGHT.
Moonbeams splashing in the water
Play a pleasant melody,
Soft'ning lights and darkning shadows
Bringing thoughts of love to me.
Many people pass that water,
Many people see these beams,
But the thoughts that they are thinking
Differ widely from my dreams.
Some are pious, some are prudent,
Others lacking sense of shame,
Some are dreary, some are weary,
But the moonlight is the same.
1920
Every Heart’s Song.
From afar in the dim distant twilight
Come the strains of an organ’s grand sound
As it peals forth a wonderful message
To the world who stands list'ning around.
Its calm melody quiets our troubles
Its sweet dream is the theme of our lay,
And its echo remains in our memory
Passing strong, from day unto day.
It's the tune that is always beside us
From the time that our eyes first see light,
And remains with us, dominant
Till eyes close at our voyage night.
Oh thou great and harmonious echo
Which reverberates oft thru the soul
Like the joy of Miltiades’ victory;
Of Phidippides gaining his goal;
Thou art balm to the man who is mortal, above;
Thou art balm that is sent from
In far countries thy name may be different
But the name which we use--- it is "Love.”
1921
Vision of Virtue.
It is night, and the darkness around me
Is oppressively blind, and I grope
For a place which is safe to repose in
And to wait for the morning’s first hope.
As I wait in that sullen black blindness
There's a spark on th'horizon, I see
A small light which is glowing, advancing
Hesitatingly, slowly, to me.
Th'indistinguishable and vague outline
Is approaching· my couch more and more
And as it draws nearer, its glimmer
Makes me want to fall down and adore.
The small spark, the vague outline grows larger
Till at last it permits me to guess
It’s a true and material object
With a singular heavenliness.
As the figure comes closer and closer:
It dispels the blind darkness from me
And before me in gorgeous apparel
Is standing-- I cry--It is She!
But my rapture’s too great for my sleeping,
For the vision has passed and is gone
And to me there is left but the memory
As I wake in the light of the dawn.
1921
Fu vie est vaine
Un peu d’amour
Un peu De Raine
Et peirs Bonjour
Ka vie est bieve
Un feu D’espoir
Un fun de rene
Et peirs Bonsoir
Geo. M
When daytime ends and daylight fades
When night comes on and dark pervades
Interests pales, some things grow dear
But love a bright flame burns still more clear
Though blackness grip the present hour
And sorrow make the world seem dour
That conversation flame dispels all gloom
And makes a desert life the bloom
Galilean, Thou has conquered
Thus the vanquished pagan cries
Galilean, Thou hast conquered
Woeful wail, as, lost, he dies.
Loathing hate, remorse abhorrence
As the cross is lifted high
Galilean Thou has conquered
This the shriek that rends the sky.
O the bitter hate and carnage
Gnashing teeth and fearful wail
For the King of Kings has conquered
And the cross of Christ prevails.
Not in hate; in love resounding
Let this e’er our triumph be
Galilean Thou has conquered
Thou hast conquered even me.
Calm Commandments
Gift to heaven sentiment
Sweetheart Ruthie, true
Simple, plainly
But not vainly
Darling - ---- ---
Heidelberg July 1927
Inspired by
Der bust die Ruh
Der Friede mild
Die Gehnsucht, du,
Und was sie stillt
For life is not all pleasure
And love as well brings pain
But who would shrink from life’s problems
When a union of souls is the gain?
The world is saved by sorrow
Through weakness each grows strong
Beneath the world’s chaos is order
Overruling life’s noise there’s song.
Then bear your burdens as blessings
And carry your cross with a smile
For God is faithful and never
Sends other than common trial } I Cor 10:13
To each other we pledge our devotion
To each other we’ll ever be true
And if you will always love me, dear
I always shall live just for you.
After the Shoemakers Ball
There was no moon in the heaven
No star could be seen in the sky
No flowers made the air fragrant
No stream went rippling by.
Not trees, but an office building
Darkened the street are-lights
Yet you made it the place of places
And your smile the night of nights
Your kisses had never been sweeter
Your arms ne’er drew me so near
You transformed the old porch into heaven
And changed darkness to brilliance clear
For we saw far into the future
Where our lives are so entwined
Yet sadness and joy were mingled
And pain with love combined
Yet sorrow with joy was mingled
And pain and love confined
As we looked far into the future
Where our lives are so entwined.
Life is not eternal pleasure
And love as well brings pain
But who would shrink from life’s problems
When eternal worth is the gain?
The world is saved by sorrow
Through weakness each grows strong.
In chaos rule an order
And guiding the noise, a song.
Face the life’s burdens with courage
Support your cross with your faith
None other but common trials
Oppress you – not even death.
After the Shoemakers Ball
There was no moon in the heaven
No star could be seen in the sky
No flowers made the air fragrant
No stream went rippling by.
Not trees, but an office building
Darkened the street are-lights
Yet you made it the place of places
And your smile the night of nights
Your kisses had never been sweeter
Your arms ne’er drew me so near
You transformed the old porch into heaven
And changed darkness to brilliance clear
For life is not all pleasure
And love as well brings pain
But who would shrink from life’s problems.
When a union of souls is the gain?
The world is saved by sorrow
Through weakness each grows strong
Because the world’s chaos is order
Overruling life’s noise there’s a son
Then bear your burdens as blessings
And carry your cross with a smile
For God is faithful and never
Sends other than a common trial
To each other we’ll pledge our devotion
To each other we’ll ever be true
And if you will always love me, dear,
I always shall live just for you.
After the Shoemakers Ball
There was no moon in the heaven
No star could be seen in the sky
No flowers made the air fragrant
No stream went rippling by.
Not trees, but an office building
Darkened the street are-lights
Yet you made it the place of places
And your smile the night of nights
Your kisses had never been sweeter
Your arms ne’er drew me so near
You transformed the old porch into heaven
And changed darkness to brilliance clear
Yet sadness with joy was mingled
And pain and love combined
As we saw far into the future
Where our lives are so entwined
When daytime ends
Time can’t cause Lethe and distance can’t sever
Tho that may be for month, that shall not be forever
In the month of September there’s coming a day
I’ll return to your side and there I shall stay
And there I shall stay and stay one, one aye.
The hour is arriving, the ship soon departs
In leaving leaves achings in two tender hearts
Because they are one in love coinciding
Together in exstacy always abiding.
And Time and cause Lethe.
No one, Ruth, so dear as you
None so true a lover
None loves me and I love none
Except my Ruth and we are one
Because we love each other.
G. H. C.
Sprinkle me with kisses if you want my love to grow
And when I want to kiss you don’t you dare to tell me No
Kiss me in the morning and in the afternoon
And profusely in the evening underneath a hidden moon
Wrap your arms around me and say you love me so, of
Sprinkle me with kisses if you want my love to grow.
Sprinkle me with kisses if you want my love to grow
Get the garden hose our and don’t act to blame slow.
Sprinkle sprinkle sprinkle until I’m soaking wet
Let me take you on my lap and teach you how to pet.
I’ll kiss you in a thousand ways that others do not know
Sprinkle me with kisses if you want my love to grow.
To each other we pledge our allegiance
To each other we’ll ever be true
And if you will always love me dear
I always shall live for just you.
Madonna, Christ child, angels, many;
Paintings from the greatest masters;
Flowers in colorful abundance;
Make old cities wondrous fair.
Statue of the Winged Victory,
Laocoon and Venus too,
Mona Lisa; yet still grander
Raphael’s Sistine wonders rare.
Yet far from home, they’re passing lonely
Perfume wasting on the air,
Because, for me, their charm, their meaning.
Lies in you, sweet Ruthie fair.
Beyond the Ideal World there shines
The source of Truth and Beauty
It makes things known and real
It puts the “one” in Duty
But Pluto could not speak the Good
Nor understanding the true
Because, the reason is quite clear
He never had met you.
You are my Idea of the Good
My Beautiful My Truth
You are the object of my love
My sweet dear darling Ruth
I the Lord am a jealous God,
Ich der Her dein Gatt, bin ein eifreiger God
God is active??
V. G Ich bin gewiB in meinen Sterben
DaB mich dertod nicht toten Kanan’
Er macht nirch mer zu einen Erban
Von dem begluckten Kanaan
Ein ander Leben folgt auf dies;
Mein Jesus Christ: ich bin gewiB.
____
Y. Ich bin gewiB, so sall es heiBen
Bis aus dem Glauben Schanen wird;
Es sall mich nichts von Jesu reiBen
Ich bin sein Schaf, er ist mein Hut.
In Ewigkeit flogt hier Ken RiB,
Die Losung bleibt: ich bin gewiB.
Benj. Schmold 1737
Ich bin gewiB in meinem Glauben
Der mich in Christum ern verleibt.
Wer Kann mir dieses Klein od raube
Das mir sain Blut under Tod versahreibt?
Gein teures Wort bekraftigt dies
Drum sagt mein Glaub: Ich bin gewiB
____
Ich bin gewbB in meiner Liebe
Die nur bin Jesum lebt und webt.
daB, wenn ich mich in Glauben ube
main Jesus in dem Herzen lebt.
Sein Leiben is mein Paradies.
Er liebet mich: Ich bin gewiB.
___
Ich bin gewiB in meinem Leben
daB Jesus Gnode bei mir ist,
die hilft mir allen Jasnmar heben;
wenn sich mein Herz an seines schlieft
So achte ich Kein Hindernis
Gott sorgt fur mich: ich bin gewiB
Madonna, Christ child, angels, many
Paintings from the greatest masters,
Flowers in colorful abundance
Make old cities wondrous fair.
Statue of the Winged Victory
Laocoon and Venus too
Mona Lisa; yet still grander
Raphael’s Sistine wonder rare.
Yet far from home, they’re passing lonely
Perfume wasting on the air,
Because for me, their charm, their meaning
Lies in you, sweet Ruthie fair.
You may walk the streets of Paris from Pigalle to Halie,
From the Star where lies the soldier to the Porte of St. Denys,
In cafes of every nature from the humblest to the Dome
Are the boys and girls of Paris who can’t make love at home.
There’s no scene you see more often than of what I’m writing now
And if you will watch them closely, you will certainly learn how
Their gestures and their loving put a sweetness in the air
For no matter where in Paris you will find the lovers there.
They walk with arms around their waists and hold each other’s hands
They whisper low, they give the look which love well understands.
They stop at every corner before they cross the street,
And ere they run the danger their loving lips must meet.
But before I sip such sweetness, before I rest content,
I must recross the ocean to the place from which I went.
For I’ve searched the streets of Paris for the one I did not see
The only darling Ruthie-girl, who is meant alone for me.
It is hard to stay here waiting, though it’s but three weeks or four.
They will pass, but far more slowly than the whole three months before.
Oh the joy, the bliss, the rapture, when my sweetheart’s face I see
For there’s no one on earth dearer than my Ruthie is to me.
- - -
And the waiting will be over when I reach the other shore
Then let nothing come to harm us, neither separate nor sever,
And we’ll live together, sorrow never, love forever
And as time goes always onward we shall love forevermore.
Pairs. Sept 2 1927
“It is not good that man should be alone.”
Thru many thousand years this word still stands,
And ever shall rest firm, till man no more
Can give the sign of clasping friendly hands.
It is not good for man to live alone;
To sail across the ocean to strange lands
Where foreign tongues are spoken, no friends near
Will teach what human nature still demands.
At home as well, man should not live alone;
Why, home means friends, it can’t be made by one;
Without a loving wife to share in all
Why have a house, you might as well have none.
And in this sense the proverb first was said
All Eden’s, grandeur, without Eve, was dead.
The purple of the dark lilies, lighted by
The roses red was ugly, lonely, vain
The garden’s still and quiet was but pain,
The throbbing life of nature cold as stone
Because a man was living there, alone!
God grant that always someone stays by me.
I’m human and a human sweetheart’s love
Who faithful is thru all the trials of life
Is nearest here to that which is above
God grant me then a sympathetic wife.
Then when life’s sun is sinking and the night
Engulfs me in its dark uncharted sea,
When human help is helpless and I’m gone,
Oh Lord, it is not good to be alone
Be Thou my Friend throughout Eternity
Paris Sept 3. 1927
8:30-9:00 AM.