The verses below by Sam Walter Foss, from a poem on “The Soul Spring
Cleaning,” have in them a suggestion that every man may now and then
utilize:
Yes, clean yer house, an’ clean yer shed,
An’ clean yer barn in ev’ry part;
But brush the cobwebs from yer head,
An’ sweep the snow-banks from yer heart.
Yes, w’en spring cleanin’ comes aroun’
Bring forth the duster an’ the broom,
But rake yer fogy notions down,
An’ sweep yer dusty soul of gloom.
Plant flowers in the soul’s front yard,
Set out new shade an’ blossom trees,
An’ let the soul once froze an’ hard
Sprout crocuses of new idees.
Yes, clean yer house, an’ clean yer shed,
An’ clean yer barn in ev’ry part;
But brush the cobwebs from yer head,
An’ sweep the snow-banks from yer heart!(Text.)
(2686)
* * * * *
Each great European cathedral has its regular corps of
repairers--architects, engineers, masons, carpenters, every
man a master of his craft. The work of renovation goes on at
all seasons; crumbling stones must be replaced, fresh cement
supplied, broken parts mended; there is always something needing
to be done. The inexperienced traveler is at first much annoyed
by the sight of the stagings and scaffoldings from which
cathedral walls seem never wholly free. “When,” he exclaims,
“shall I at last find a façade which is not in the process of
repair?” But with larger knowledge and more careful thought his
feelings change.
The flimsy, unsightly framework clinging to the ancient gray
stone no longer seems a blemish, but a true adornment, since
it eloquently tells of the reverent, affectionate care which
faithfully preserves for the future these “poems in stone”
handed down from the mighty past.--“Monday Club, Sermons on the
International Sunday-school Lessons for 1904.”
(2687)