Immigrants To The United States

"Now you've all the equipment the greatest possess, And some men have risen to glory with less, So don't be afraid, but go to it; If it's honest, and useful, and ought to be done, Don't think it beneath you, but jump in, my son - Go straight to your duty and do it."

"She wasn't hungry, so she said. A salad and a cup of tea Was all she felt that she could eat, but it was different with me. "I'm rather hungry," I replied: "if you don't mind, I think I'll take Some oysters to begin with and a good old-fashioned sirloin steak."Now wives are curious in this; to make the statement blunt and straight, There's nothing tempts their appetites like food upon another's plate; And when those oysters six appeared she looked at them and said to me, "Just let me try one, will you, dear?" and right away she swallowed three."

"Stick to it, boy, Through the thick and the thin of it! Work for the joy That is born of the din of it. Failures beset you, But don't let them fret you; Dangers are lurking, But just keep on working. If it's worthwhile and you're sure of the right of it, Stick to it, boy, and make a real fight of it!"

"Where is the road to Arcady, Where is the path that leads to peace, Where shall I find the bliss to be, Where shall the weary wanderings cease? These are the questions that come to me - Where is the road to Arcady?"

"Who's dat knockin' at de do', Who's dat callin' here ter-day? What yo' want to see me fo'? Tell me what yo' got to say. What yo' name an' what yo' mean, Standin' out there in de gloam? Trouble, waitin' to come in? No sir, no sir, I ain't home!"

"It was thick with Prussian troopers, it was foul with German guns; Every tree that cast a shadow was a sheltering place for Huns. Death was guarding every roadway, death was watching every field, And behind each rise of terrain was a rapid-fire concealed; Uncle Sam's Marines had orders: "Drive the Boche from where they're hid. For the honor of Old Glory, take the woods!" And so they did."

"Oh, youth, go forth and do! You, too, to fame may rise; You can be strong and wise. Stand up to life and play the man — You can if you'll but think you can; The great were once as you. You envy them their proud success? 'Twas won with gifts that you possess."

"Now a bit of praise isn't much to give, But it's dear to the hearts of all who live; And there's never a man on this good old earth But is glad to be told that he's been of worth; And a kindly word when the work is fair Is welcomed and wanted everywhere."

"Are you one of the nine who pass men by In this hasty life we live? Do you refuse with a downcast eye The help which you could give? Or are you the one in ten whose creed Is always to stop for the man in need?"

""It's not exactly to my best But it may pass the final test; And should it break, no man can know It was my hand that made it so. The thing is faulty, but perhaps We'll never hear it when it snaps."Of course the workman couldn't see The mangled car beneath the tree, The dead man, and the tortured wife Doomed to a cripple's chair for life – His chief concern was getting by The stern inspector's eager eye."

"You're pretty low down," says I to him, "But nobody's holding you there, my friend. Life is a stream where men sink or swim, And the drifters come to a sorry end; But there's two of you living and breathing still — The fellow you are, and he's tough to see, And another chap, if you've got the will, The man that you still have a chance to be."

"I did not stop to ask the lad his little tale to tell, There was no need of that because I knew the story well - "She never gave a chance to me!" that sentence held it all. A hundred times I'd lived the scene in days when I was small, A broken rule, a teacher vexed, hot rage where calm belonged, A guilty judgment blindly made - a youngster sadly wronged.I still can see that little chap upon his homeward way, "She never gave a chance to me," I still can hear him say, And so I write this verse for him, and all the girls and boys Who shall their tutors now and then disturb with needless noise. Be fair, you teachers of our land, in every circumstance; Don't let some little fellow say he never had a chance."

"He brought me his report card from the teacher and he said He wasn't very proud of it and sadly bowed his head. He was excellent in reading, but arithmetic, was fair, And I noticed there were several "unsatisfactorys" there; But one little bit of credit which was given brought me joy — He was "excellent in effort," and I fairly hugged the boy."

"To have no secret place wherein I stoop unseen to shame or sin; To be the same when I'm alone As when my every deed is known; To live undaunted, unafraid Of any step that I have made; To be without pretense or sham Exactly what men think I am."

"Grandmother says when I pass her the cake: "Just half of that, please." If I serve her the tenderest portion of steak: "Just half of that, please." And be the dessert a rice pudding or pie, As I pass Grandma's share she is sure to reply, With the trace of a twinkle to light up her eye: "Just half of that, please.""

"Oh, you'll not be any poorer if you smile along your way, And your lot will not be harder for the kindly things you say. Don't imagine you are wasting time for others that you spend: You can rise to wealth and glory and still pause to be a friend."

"I fancy I hear them talking there In an open boat, and the speech is fair. And the boy is learning the ways of men From the finest man in his youthful ken. Kings, to the youngster, cannot compare With the gentle father who's with him there. And the greatest mind of the human race Not for one minute could take his place."

"Life is a jest; Take the delight of it. Laughter is best; Sing through the night of it. Swiftly the tear And the hurt and the ache of it Find us down here; Life must be what we make of it."

"God grant me these: the strength to do Some needed service here; The wisdom to be brave and true; The gift of vision clear, That in each task that comes to me Some purpose I may plainly see.God teach me to believe that I Am stationed at a post, Although the humblest 'neath the sky, Where I am needed most. And that, at last, if I do well My humble services will tell.God grant me faith to stand on guard, Uncheered, unspoke, alone, And see behind such duty hard My service to the throne. Whate'er my task, be this my creed: I am on earth to fill a need."

"The difference 'twixt good and bad is not so very much, A few more minutes at the task, an extra turn or touch, A final test that all is right—and yet the men are few Who seem to think it worth their while these extra things to do."

"When you get to know a fellow, know his joys and know his cares, When you've come to understand him and the burdens that he bears, When you've learned the fight he's making and the troubles in his way, Then you find that he is different than you thought him yesterday. You find his faults are trivial and there's not so much to blame In the brother that you jeered at when you only knew his name."

"Changin' laws an' legislatures ain't, as fur as I can see, Goin' to make this world much better, unless somehow we can Find a way to make a better an' a finer sort o' man. The trouble ain't with statutes or with systems—not at all; It's with humans jus' like we [are] an' their petty ways an' small. We could stop our writin' law-books an' our regulatin' rules If a better sort of manhood was the product of our schools. For the things that we air needin' isn't writin' from a pen Or bigger guns to shoot with, but a bigger type of men."

"I must be fit for a child's glad greeting, His are eyes that there is no cheating; He must behold me in every test, Not at my worst, but my very best; He must be proud when my life is done To have men know that he is my son."

"I must get out on the trails once more that wind through shadowy haunts and cool, Away from the presence of wall and door, and see myself in a crystal pool; I must get out with the silent things, where neither laughter nor hate is heard, Where malice never the humblest stings and no one is hurt by a spoken word."

"Seemed like I couldn't stand it any more, The factory whistles blowin' day by day, An' men an' children hurryin' by the door, An' street cars clangin' on their busy way. The faces of the people seemed to be Washed pale by tears o' grief an' strife an' care, Till everywhere I turned to I could see The same old gloomy pictures of despair.The windows of the shops all looked the same, Decked out with stuff their owners wished to sell; When visitors across our doorway came I could recite the tales they'd have to tell. All things had lost their old-time power to please; Dog-tired I was an' irritable, too, An' so I traded chimney tops for trees, An' shingled roof for open skies of blue."

"They spoke it bravely, grimly, in their darkest hours of doubt; They spoke it when their hope was low and when their strength gave out; We heard it from the dying in those troubled days now gone, And they breathed it as their slogan for the living: "Carry on!"Now the days of strife are over, and the skies are fair again, But those two brave words of courage on our lips should still remain; In the trials which beset us and the cares we look upon, To our dead we should be faithful—we have still to "carry on!""Carry on!" through storm and danger, "carry on" through dark despair, "Carry on" through hurt and failure, "carry on" through grief and care; 'Twas the slogan they bequeathed us as they fell beside the way, And for them and for our children, let us "carry on!" to-day."

"Honor is something we all profess, But most of us cheat—some more, some less— An' the real test isn't the way we do When there isn't a pinch in either shoe; It's whether we're true to our best or not When the right thing's certain to hurt a lot."

"It is better as it is: I have failed but I can sleep; Though the pit I now am in is very dark and deep I can walk to-morrow's streets and can meet to-morrow's men Unashamed to face their gaze as I go to work again.I have lost the hope I had; in the dust are all my dreams, But my loss is not so great or so dreadful as it seems; I made my fight and though I failed I need not slink away For I do not have to fear what another man may say."

"What do I want my boy to be? Oft is the question asked of me, And oft I ask it of myself - What corner, niche or post or shelf In the great hall of life would I Select for him to occupy? Statesman or writer, poet, sage Or toiler for a weekly wage, Artist or artisan? Oh, what Is to become his future lot? For him I do not dare to plan; I only hope he'll be a man.I leave it free for him to choose The tools of life which he shall use, Brush, pen or chisel, lathe or wrench, The desk of commerce or the bench, And pray that when he makes his choice In each day's task he shall rejoice. I know somewhere there is a need For him to labor and succeed; Somewhere, if he be clean and true, Loyal and honest through and through, He shall be fit for any clan, And so I hope he'll be a man."

"No use weepin' when the milk is spilled, No use growlin' when your hopes are killed, No use kickin' when the lightnin' strikes Or the floods come along an' wreck your dykes; Only thing for a man right then Is to grit his teeth an' start again.For it's how life is an' the way things are That you've got to face if you travel far; An' the storms will come an' the failures, too, An' plans go wrong spite of all you do; An' the only thing that will help you win, Is the grit of a man and a stern set chin."

"We have room for the man with an honest dream, With his heart on fire and his eyes agleam; We have room for the man with a purpose true, Who comes to our shores to start life anew, But we haven't an inch of space for him Who comes to plot against life and limb.We have room for the man who will learn our ways, Who will stand by our Flag in its troubled days; We have room for the man who will till the soil, Who will give his hands to a fair day's toil, But we haven't an inch of space to spare For the breeder of hatred and black despair."

"Men talk too much of gold and fame, And not enough about a name; And yet a good name's better far Than all earth's glistening jewels are. Who holds his name above all price And chooses every sacrifice To keep his earthly record clear, Can face the world without a fear.Who never cheats nor lies for gain, A poor man may, perhaps, remain, Yet, when at night he goes to rest, No little voice within his breast Disturbs his slumber. Conscience clear, He falls asleep with naught to fear And when he wakes the world to face He is not tainted by disgrace."

"Boy o' mine, boy o' mine, this is my prayer for you, This is my dream and my thought and my care for you: Strong be the spirit which dwells in the breast of you, Never may folly or shame get the best of you; You shall be tempted in fancied security, But make no choice that is stained with impurity.Boy o' mine, boy o' mine, time shall command of you Thought from the brain of you, work from the hand of you; Voices of pleasure shall whisper and call to you, Luring you far from the hard tasks that fall to you; Then as you're meeting life's bitterest test of men, God grant you strength to be true as the best of men."

"Strange thoughts come to the man alone; 'Tis then, if ever, he talks with God, And views himself as a single clod In the soil of life where the souls are grown. 'Tis then he questions the why and where, The start and end of his years and days, And what is blame and what is praise, And what is ugly and what is fair."

"I'd like to think when life is done That I had filled a needed post, That here and there I'd paid my fare With more than idle talk and boast; That I had taken gifts divine, The breath of life and manhood fine, And tried to use them now and then In service for my fellow men."

"Somebody said that it couldn't be done, But he with a chuckle replied That "maybe it couldn't," but he would be one Who wouldn't say so till he'd tried. So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin On his face. If he worried he hid it. He started to sing as he tackled the thing That couldn't be done, and he did it."

"I look into the faces of the people passing by, The glad ones and the sad ones, and the lined with misery, And I wonder why the sorrow or the twinkle in the eye; But the pale and weary faces are the ones that trouble me."

"Oh, my shoulders grow aweary of the burdens I am bearin', An' I grumble when I'm footsore at the rough road I am farin', But I strap my knapsack tighter till I feel the leather bind me, An' I'm glad to bear the burdens for the ones who come behind me. It's for them that I am ploddin', for the children comin' after; I would strew their path with roses and would fill their days with laughter.Oh, there's selfishness within me, there are times it gets to talkin', Times I hear it whisper to me, "It's a dusty road you're walkin'; Why not rest your feet a little; why not pause an' take your leisure? Don't you hunger in your strivin' for the merry whirl of pleasure?" Then I turn an' see them smilin' an' I grip my burdens tighter, For the joy that I am seekin' is to see their eyes grow brighter."

"If through the years we're not to do Much finer deeds than we have done; If we must merely wander through Time's garden, idling in the sun; If there is nothing big ahead, Why do we fear to join the dead?Unless to-morrow means that we Shall do some needed service here; That tasks are waiting you and me That will be lost, save we appear; Then why this dreadful thought of sorrow That we may never see to-morrow?"

"The easy roads are crowded And the level roads are jammed; The pleasant little rivers With the drifting folks are crammed. But off yonder where it's rocky, Where you get a better view, You will find the ranks are thinning And the travelers are few.Where the going's smooth and pleasant You will always find the throng, For the many, more's the pity, Seem to like to drift along. But the steeps that call for courage, And the task that's hard to do In the end result in glory For the never-wavering few."

"There will always be something to do, my boy; There will always be wrongs to right; There will always be need for a manly breed And men unafraid to fight. There will always be honor to guard, my boy; There will always be hills to climb, And tasks to do, and battles new From now to the end of time.There will always be dangers to face, my boy; There will always be goals to take; Men shall be tried, when the roads divide, And proved by the choice they make. There will always be burdens to bear, my boy; There will always be need to pray; There will always be tears through the future years, As loved ones are borne away."

"A man is at his finest towards the finish of the year; He is almost what he should be when the Christmas season's here; Then he's thinking more of others than he's thought the months before, And the laughter of his children is a joy worth toiling for. He is less a selfish creature than at any other time; When the Christmas spirit rules him he comes close to the sublime."

""How much do babies cost?" said he The other night upon my knee; And then I said: "They cost a lot; A lot of watching by a cot, A lot of sleepless hours and care, A lot of heart-ache and despair, A lot of fear and trying dread, And sometimes many tears are shed In payment for our babies small, But every one is worth it all."

"The joy of life is living it, or so it seems to me; In finding shackles on your wrists, then struggling till you're free; In seeing wrongs and righting them, in dreaming splendid dreams, Then toiling till the vision is as real as moving streams. The happiest mortal on the earth is he who ends his day By leaving better than he found to bloom along the way."

"No man is greater than his will; No gods to him will lend a hand! Upon his courage and his skill The record of his life must stand. What honors shall befall to him, What he shall claim of fame or pelf, Depend not on the favoring whim Of fortune's god, but on himself."

"I envy men whose yards are gay, But never work as hard as they; I also envy men who own More wealth than I have ever known. I'm like a lot of men who yearn For joys that they refuse to earn.You cannot have the joys of work And take the comfort of a shirk. I find the man I envy most Is he who's longest at his post. I could have gold and roses, too, If I would work like those who do."

"He never guessed that being kind Depends upon the heart and mind And not upon the purse at all; That poor men's gifts, however small, Make light some weary traveler's load And smooth for him his troubled road. He never knew or understood The fellowship of doing good. Because he had not much to spare He thought it vain to give his share.Yet many passed him, day by day, He might have helped along the way. He fancied kindness something which Belongs entirely to the rich. And so he lived and toiled for gold, Unsympathetic, harsh and cold, Intending all the time to share The burdens that his brothers bear When he possessed great wealth, and he Could well afford a friend to be."

"At first I got lots of discouragement from friends and stranger who are loser! You know what these people kept telling me? They kept saying, 'Well Tom Vu, you a crazy nut, here you are, a poor immigrant, poor minority, speak no English, no contact, on and on, and you trying to be rich in America! You crazy, man! Look at people out there! They smarter than you are, they not even rich! Who are you to try?' And you know what? I have to keep telling these people every time, I kept saying, 'You are loser! Get out of my way! I make it somehow!'"

"We’d like to think that the Bill of Rights was ratified in 1791, but in reality, in the practical and for your daily life, the Bill of Rights means what judges tell you it means and judges in our country are a byproduct of the electoral process. Forget about 1791, the Second Amendment is on the ballot, this time, next time, every time."

"It is never right to be more Catholic than the Pope."