--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 22 number: 7 published: 1919-05 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations, "Home Poems," *Improvement Era* 22, no. 7 (May 1919): 596–599.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2207unse 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: improvementera2207unse start_page: 596 end_page: 599 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1919-05) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2207unse publication_year: 1919 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 1919, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Home Poems 598 IMPROVEMENT ERA A minute more and down it sped, The bomb was on its way. A muffled roar came to his ears It was the "ace's" pay. He turned around to circle back, When all at once, he heard A shell whiz by his little craft And whistling like a bird. The next one tore a piece of cloth From off his right hand plane; He dropped another bomb on them, And circled back again. Upon his face he wore a sneer And hatred written there. Another bullet passed him went Whizzing through the air. Another came, and still some more, Until one grazed his head; He lost control of everything, And down to earth he sped. But now we leave him on his way, While he flies on through space, And mourn his death, poor willing soul, That brave "American Ace!" Denver, Colorado Lester James Herrick The Gifts You Hold Why cling to earthly baubles, For false as fair are they; When all you can hold, in your cold, dead hands, Is that you've given away? Why build grand tow'ring castles, When they are made of clay, And all you can hold, in your cold, dead hands, Is that you've given away? Why choose the crown most costly, Or wear the raiment gay, When all you can hold, in your cold, dead hands, Is that you've given away? Some burdened heart make lighter, As on you go each day, Then closely pressed within your cold, dead hands The love you've given away. Then, O give love forever, Your actions let it sway: Full to o'erflowing then, your spirit hands, With flowers that bloom alway. Salt Lake City Lydia D. Alder ; ; HOME POEMS 599 Life's Code It mattereth little, the trial that smote thee, the sorrow that took up its abode with thee, the cruel thorn that pierced thee; but what thou learnest of these, mattereth much. It mattereth little, the treasure thou possesseth, the domicile that shelters thee, thy board as also thy habit; but the service thou renderest a needing world, mattereth much. It mattereth little, the temptation that secretly beset thee; but the dispatch with which it was put behind thee mattereth much. Thine enemy's hatred mattereth little; but the way thou chooseth to bless him mattereth much. It mattereth little, the honors bestowed upon thee, by an appreciative world but how thou honorest thine own soul, mattereth much. Whether skies be gray or blue, whether sings the lark or sighs the linnet, mattereth little; but the degree of divine harmony maintained in thine own heart, mattereth much. Holbrook, Arizona Addie Savage Pace Life's Eventide How I love the soft, gray shadows in the sky at eventide! That pearly grayness tinged with pink and rose! For it sets my heart reflecting on a home and fireside Where old folk sit when life draws to a close. When the western sun is sinking in a glory bathed in gold, How beautiful the ending of the day! 'Tis the promise of the better life in clarion accents told To those who pass before us on their way. As I sit and watch the splendor of the setting of the sun, A blaze of red-gold beauty in the west, 'Tis a glimpse of coming glory for their triumphs nobly won, When shadows call the old folk home to rest. For the spirits of our aged folk are always young and strong, And could you follow them across the stream, You would see them find the haven where the summer-time is long, And life is good beyond their fondest dream. Sydney, Australia Henry C. de Witt Nearer to Thee Nearer to Thee, on the mountain side; Nearer to Thee, neath the pines; Nearer to Thee, in the aspen grove, Hearing Thy voice in the winds. Nearer to Thee, in the canyon glen; Nearer to Thee, by the stream; Nearer to Thee, in the woodland shade, Nearer, yes nearer I seem. Nearer to Thee, 'neath the bright blue sky Nearer to Thee, on the hill; Eager, more eager to answer Thy call; Quicker to serve at Thv will. Provo, Utah Samuel Biddulph — The Superior Man By Lloyd 0. Ivie Here and there throughout the world can be found, towering in purity and nobility above his fellows, a morally clean man. He is a man who is superior to the little innocent child if such a thing were possible,— because he is knowingly pureminded. He thinks no evil, not because he has not yet come in contact with it, but because he has developed the manhood to overcome it. He has ascended from the innocence of childhood, not descended. He is not always popular. On the other hand, he is shunned and derided by a certain class of people. Of course, in their hearts they respect him, and look up to him. But it is from afar, as if they were gazing upon the grandeur of a lofty mountain from the valley below. They behold the splendor, but partake not of the joy, nor the music, nor the sacredness of ascending and breathing its atmosphere. He is often grossly misunderstood. His actions are misinterpreted and misconstrued. Sometimes he is even martyred by those who afterwards build monuments to his memoiy. He is often crucified. And seldom does he escape the abuse and slander of petty, jealous minds. They pin indecent signs upon his back, but they cannot touch his heart. Those who laugh at the imaginary discomfiture are not those who walk abreast with him. He leaves a path of flowers along his course, which they gather many years after to decorate his grave. He is not afraid to do right. Where help is needed, he helps. Where solace and comfort are required, he is found with a heart full of cheer and charity. When others are ungrateful and thoughtless, he is helpful and forbearing. Not even a sparrow can evade his watchful kindness. He does not waste time in attempting to point out your wrong to you, but he spares no pains in showing and leading you aright in all love and tenderness. Then he forgets what he has done and looks toward the next act of goodness. He is not even disturbed if you fail to thank him for his blessing. He would help you again if you needed it. He is not rash. Everything he does is carefully deliberated. Sometimes, in his sincere politeness, he will beg your pardon; when it is you who ought to have sought forgiveness of him. In his heart you are forgiven even before you ask it. THE SUPERIOR MAN 601 He is not always dressed in spotless clothing. Rather, he is soiled with the dust and dirt of toil. His hands are calloused, — and his face is burned and tanned. Still he is clean perfectly immaculate within. No weed has ever touched his lips, and he legislated against liquor even before he saw the sparkling cup. His angel mother is a rejoicing witness; his pledge is sealed with her kiss. He thinks no evil; hence, does none. All women are safe in his company. Were all men like him, an underworld would be impossible. Woman could not then lose that which is more precious to her than life itself. If he happened to be thrown unknowingly into that company which is not pure, the vile would remain untouched, for the sake of his own chastity. And he would not remain there for the space of a single moment. He knows no double standard. Yet he is not prudish and hidden-minded. He is never known to utter even an allusion to obscenity, whether among men or among women. Every word he utters is fit to be spoken in the presence of the noblest of ladies. Even in marriage, which he holds sacred and divine, he knows perfect control. He does not seek a license; he makes a covenant. It is not a release to him; it is a resolve. Love is not a smouldering flame of passion within him; it is a heaven-sought and heaven-given seedling which he knows he mu?t culture and care for eternally. Any mother can rest easy if she knows her daughter is in his company. She knows her child is as safe with him as she could be at home. In his mind — — there is only one step, and it is a short one, between true motherhood and the celestial kingdom of God. He is found in church when church time comes. He is religious, but not a fanatic. The church building is not a divine storehouse to him; it is his Sabbath home. He prays as regu- larly and earnestly in secret as he does in the presence of others. He is just as honest in dealing with himself as he is in dealing .with others. Business men tie him up with notes and contracts merelv as a matter of form: for his word is sufficient. He is dignified, but not funereal. He can play bucking horse on the parlor carpet, or dancing bear in the nursery, or he can stand calmly and self-collectedly in the presence of nobles and kings. He can walk with ease and grace upon showy and mag- nificent carpets, and rugs of silk and camel's hair; but he prefers to wear overalls, hoe potatoes, and plant corn. He is not always silent in public affairs. When he has something to say, he says it. To him silence does not always denote wisdom. He remembers his school days when certain classmates held their tongues because they were ignorant of what their teacher was talking about, rather than because they were wiser. He can laugh, but is not boisterous. He can talk, but is