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THE GREAT OLD WORLD
[Welland Telegraph October 29. 1903]
The cynics mock her,
The red storms rock her,
But on she rolls!
Downcast, elated–
For ruin slated,
She still goes freighted
With human souls!
The great seas thunder
And rend asunder–
The white stars wonder
As Time grows gray;
But-reaping, sowing,
Her way she’s going,
To meet-unknowing–
A Judgment Day.
But-joy go with her!
Nor slip his tether
When stormy weather
Makes grief and moan!
Tragedy-test world–
Lost-unto-test world,
Still-still the best world
We have ever known!
Atlanta Constitution
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