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 |   Reading Mommy's Poetry Books... |
When my father died, I received a monetary inheritance. Mommy and I were talking about this and she mentioned she had no money to leave me when she died. I told her there was only one thing I wanted when she died. I wanted the two poetry books she and I had read together when I was a child. We had read The Best Loved Poems of the American People selected by Hazel Felleman and A Treasury of the Familiar edited by Ralph L. Wood. My mother told me that if I could find them, I was welcome to them right then. Eventually, I did find both books. There's more to that story but I'll leave it for later. Right now, I will share one of the poems I read at Mommy's memorial service: The Way of the World By Ella Wheeler Wilcox Laugh, and the world laughs with you; Weep, and you weep alone; For the brave old earth must borrow its mirth, But has trouble enough of its own. Sing, and the hills will answer; Sigh, it is lost on the air; The echoes bound to a joyful sound, And shrink from voicing care. Rejoice, and men will seek you; Grieve, and they turn and go; They want full measure of all your pleasure, But they do not want your woe. Be glad, and your friends are many; Be sad, and you lose them all, There are none to decline your nectared wine, But alone you must drink life’s gall. Feast, and your halls are crowded; Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed and give—it helps you live, But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure For a long and lordly train, But one by one we must all march on Through the narrow isle of pain. Not only did Mommy and I read this poem together, she taught me to read it aloud—she taught me to read poetry with expression. I have the first few lines memorized, not because I tried to memorize it, simply because I have read it thousands of times. I cried when I read it at Mommy's memorial, not because of the sentiment of the poem but because she and I had read it together many, many times. I see a lot of truth in the words of this poem. The title displayed here is from A Treasury of the Familiar published in 1943. Online, this poem is sometimes found under the title Solitude. I believe it is the first poem Ella Wheeler Wilcox wrote or perhaps it was the first she shared with the world. ~ ~ ~ JESUS is LORD! ~ ~ ~ |
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