href="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@45240@[email protected]#link2H_4_0017" class="pginternal" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">A LAMENT

JESUS GARCIA

A CHRISTMAS LETTER

THE COYOTEVILLE PEACE MEETING

THE SONG OF THE WINCHESTER

PRAIRIE FIRE

III. RIVER SONGS

THE MISSOURI

THE OLD CARRY

JAKE DALE

THE ENGINEER OF THE "GOLDEN HIND"

THE "PAULINE"

AFTERGLOW

MY CREED

NOW, 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 who 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,