Of old our fathers wrote in pictures.
’Twas in an age of savage men.
The years have rolled a mighty cycle,
And we’ve got round to it again.
They carved their story on the mountain
Where it for ages might be seen.
We write ours on a filmy ribbon,
And throw it on a silver screen.
If they who carved on cliff and hillside
Might but return today and see
The picture writing of the present,
Big with surprise their eyes would be.
We learned their message from the pictures,
Tho tiresome was the task and slow;
But we shall pass along a story
That all the world may read and know.
A Prayer for Thanksgiving (1922)
[Transcriber’s note: All verses are italicized.]
While we are seated at our board
In comfort here today,
With happy face, and kindly word,
Let us not fail to pray
For all who do not have their share
Of comfort and of gain,
For troubled people everywhere
In hunger or in pain.
Where weary mothers toil unfed
In places foul and dim,
Where little children cry for bread
And none is given them,
Lord, let Thy mercy have its way.
Sow plenty in the land,
And teach us in our joy today
To lend a helping hand.
A Psalm of the Movies (1922)
_(With all due apologies.)_
Tell me not in sturdy measure
What it says upon the screen.
It does damage to my pleasure,
And the words are plainly seen.
I am really in earnest,
As the titles onward roll;
And so, when to me thou turnest,
Do not read aloud their scroll.
Many peevish eyes remind us,
Tho each passage be sublime,
Folks before and folks behind us
All can read both prose and rhyme.
In the scene of love and battle,
As the swift film pictures life,
If you do not cease your prattle,
There most surely will be strife.
Let us watch and see what’s doing
Till the hast’ning drama ends,
And not work the play’s undoing,
Reading titles to our friends.