--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Emmett, Walter collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 9 number: 5 published: 1906-03 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Walter Emmett, "Let Us All Be What We Are: A Poem," *Improvement Era* 9, no. 5 (March 1906): 407.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0905unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera0905unse start_page: 407 end_page: 407 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1906-03) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0905unse publication_year: 1906 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1906, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Let Us All Be What We Are: A Poem LET US ALL BE WHAT WE ARE. 401 'Tisn't wholly the word-painted, bookish boquets That bring to the speaker renown; 'Tis the sincere ring in each homely phrase, That awards him the victor's crown. The sweetest flowers that scent the breeze Are not from the hot-house lair; The man whose trousers wear out the knees May not utter the deepest prayer. It isn't the depths of the ocean blueThat betoken the frothing foam: It isn't the furniture's costly hue That endears to the heart the home. The man whose "chance" it is to rule, Perhaps would be best in jail; It isn't always the greatest fool Whose tests at the college fail. We cannot judge from each doleful moan Whose grief is the greatest here, For the saddest tears may be shed alone Where no one is list'ning near. Don't scofl', nor point with the hand of scorn At the man with the ragged coat — The millionaire isn't an angel born. Nor as such does his dress denote. Don't curse at the vet' ran drunken man Who staggers a- down the street; He's one in Misfortune's caravan — He'll come to his own defeat. The Golden Rule is for one and all Who dwell upon God's green earth; And when you have answered Death's sure call, You'll be judged for your honest worth. Each kindly deed has its recompense — We are placed here to make or mar; And e're we take our departure hence, Let us all be what we are. Walter Emmett. Ogden, Utah.