The Abilene reflector. [volume] (Abilene, Kan.) 1883-1888, 1884-06-12
ABILENE REFLECTOR
PESSLMISA.

sis life worth living?-weIl, to tell you true
1t scarcely is, if all men were like you.
Bright-faced maiden, bright-souled maiden,
What is this that must hear?
Is thy heart with sorrow laden,
Is thine eye dimmed with tear!
Can il be that lips so sweetly
Rounded to be kindly kissed,
Could be twisted indiScreetly
To that vile word Pessimistf
Not for thine own ills thou weepest;
Softly feathered is thy nest:
When thou wakest. when thou sleepeSt
Thou art fortuned with the best.
But thy sters and thy brothers
Pierced with many woeful smart,
Dying children, Wailing mothers,
Fret thy nerve. and stab thy heart.
In the country, in the city,
Goddess deeds, a ioveless / st
Stir thy blood and move thy pity,
And thou art a PeSSiHiist.
;StOrms and wars and fluctuations,
Fevered passions reinless tide,
With insane Authorizations
Mingled travel far and wide.
Can there be an Eye inspecting
Things so tumbling in pell-mell,
With a cool control directing
Such hotbed, such he'll!
Nay, sweet maid, but think more slowly
Though this thing and that be sad,
IT'S logic most unholy
That the gross of things is bad;
''Tis q trick of melancholy,
Tainting life with deaths alloy;
Or in wisdom, or in folly,
Nature still delights in JOY.
Dost thou hear of starving sinners?
Nine and ten or ninety-nine,
Many thousands eat good dinners,
Many hundreds quaf good wine.
Hast thou seen score of cripples2
Equal legs are not uncommon;
If you know one fool that tipples,
Thousands drink not-man and woman;
Tell me, if yOu know, how many
Murders happen in the town?
One year, perhaps, if any;
Should that weigh your heart quite down?
No doubt. if you read the papers,
You will find q strange hotch-potch-
Doting dreams, delirious capers,
Many bunder, blot ana blotch;
Bags of windy speculation,
Babb;ement OF small and great,
Cheating, swindling, peculariOn,
Squabbement of Church and State:
Miners blown up. humbugs shown up,
Beaten wives, insulted brides,
RaVing preachers. witless teachers,
Lunatics and suicides.
Drains and cesspools, Paintings, fevers,
Poisoned cats and stolen collies
Simple women, gay deceiVers,
Every sort and size of folies.
Wandering NJ. p. s brainlesS babble,
DeputatiOns, meetings, dinners,
Riots of the lawless abble,
Purple sins of West End sinners;
Driving, dicing, drinking, dancing,
Spirit rapping, ghostly stuff,
Bubble schemes, and deit financing,
When the shares are blown enough.
All this is true; when men cut capers
That make the people talk or stare,
Tomorrow, when you ope the papers,
You're sure to find your antics there.
But you and ]. and all our neighbOrs,
Meanwhile in pure and peaceful ways,
With link on link of fruitful labors,
Draw out our chain of happy days.
See things as they are; be sober;
Balance well life's loss and gain:
If today be chill October,
Summer SUNS will come again.
Are bleak winds for ever signing?
Do dark clouds for ever lower!
Are your friends all dead and dying?
All your sweetness turned 10 sour2
Great men no doubt have sometimes small
But horse is not an ass
nd Il biacksnake is not always
Lurking in the soft green grass.
Don't be haSty, gentle lady;
In this whirl of diverse things
Keep your footing and with steady
Pose control your equal wings.
All things can't to all be pleasant,
love bitter. you love sweet;
Some faint when a cat is present,
Rats find babies cheeks treat.
II all tiny things were tall things
II all petty things were grand,
Where would greatness be, when all things
On one common level stand?
Do you think the winged breeZes
Fraught with healthy ventilation,
When a tender infant sneezes
should retreat with trepdation?
When dry Earth to Heaven is calling
For soft rain and freshening dew,
Shall the rain refrain from falling
Lest my lady wet her shoe?
EoOiS still rush To rash conclusions,
And the mole-eyed minion man
Talks of troubles and confusiOns,
when he sees not half the plan.
Spare to blame and fear to cavil
With short leave dismiss your pain,
Let no fretful fancies revel
In the sanctum of your brain.
Use no magnifying glasses
To change mOlchillS into mountains.
Nor on every hill that passes
Pour hot tears from bitter fountains.
Trust in Coo ard know your duty.
Some good things are in your power;
Every day will bring its booty
From the labor of the hour.
Never wreck what fOloS are prating,
Work and wait, let sorrow lie:
Live and love; have done with hating
Goethe Says-and so say ].
-BldchWOOd's MdOdzinE