Greenwood: Poetry in Life
BY: BG EDITOR
Jan 13, 2018 — GREENWOOD, BC (BG)
Today we present a collection of vintage Greenwood poetry, published between 1899 and 1909. The topics covered by these poets include the usual essentials of humankind: desire, work, fraternity, society, and the passing of time.
One poem, written by a worker from the Motherlode Mine, gives us an interesting glimpse into the philosophy of the Masons. Another calls to mind how the roads beneath our feet (and wheels) most likely got their start.
We begin with an ode to Greenwood — 'tis simply heaven on earth.
"Greenwood"
Come, let us smile and happy be,
The clouds are breaking,
And let us quit dull reverie,
An undertaking
Strangely against our custom and our use,
Who've lately handled nothing but abuse.
Yes, let us love our neighbor well,
We have been strangers;
Nor let my pen the troubles tell
And many dangers,
That have been run, when visiting our friends;
It's over now — Utopia makes amends
Come, let us sing a joyful strain
In choirs united,
Nor let us think our hope's are vain,
That once were blighted.
Yea — let us revel in our new found mirth,
Greenwood's a name — 'tis simply heaven on earth.
~ Anonymous
"The Path The Calf Made"
One day, through the primevil wood,
A calf walked home, as good calves should,
But made a trail, all bent askew,
A crooked trail, as all calves do.
The trail was taken up next day.
By a lone dog that passed that way;
And then a wise bell-weather sheep
Pursued the trail o'er vale and steep,
And drew the flock behind him, too,
As good bell-weathers always do.
And from that day, o'er hill and glade,
Through those old woods a path was made;
And many men wound in and out
And dodged and turned and beat about,
And muttered words of righteous wrath
Because 'twas such a crooked path.
But still they followed — do not laugh —
The first migrations of the calf,
And through this winding woodway stalked,
Because he wabbled when he walked.
This forged path became a lane,
That bent, and turned, and turned again.
The crooked lane became a road,
Where many a poor horse, with a load,
Toiled on beneath the burning sun,
And traveled some three miles in one.
And thus, a century and a half,
They trod in the footsteps of that calf.
The years passed on in swiftness fleet,
The village road became a street;
And this, before men were aware,
Became a crowded thoroughfare.
And soon the central street was this
Of a renowned metropolis;
And men two centuries and a half
Walked in the footsteps of that calf.
Each day a hundred thousand rout
Followed the zigzag calf about,
And o'er his crooked journey went
The traffic of a continent.
A hundred thousand men were led
By one calf near three centuries dead.
They followed still his crooked way,
And lost one hundred years a day;
For such a reverence is lent
to well established precedent.
A moral lesson this might teach,
Were I ordained and called to preach;
For men are prone to go it blind
Along the calf-paths of the mind.
And work away from sun to sun,
To do what other men have done.
Ah! Many things this tale might teach —
But I am not ordained to preach.
~ Anonymous
"His Difficulty"
I know that daily exercise
Is what I greatly need,
At 5 a. m. I ought to rise,
I sleep too late, indeed.
I could get up before the sun
And take a little trot
Around the block, it's good to run,
But then I'd rather not.
I know that coffee, also tea,
And alcoholic drink,
Are very, very bad for me,
They are for most, I think.
I might abjure those habits vile
That noble brain besot
And drink cold water all the while,
But then I'd rather not.
I know quite well it is not good
To live on butcher's meat.
A purely vegetable food
Is what we ought to eat.
A firm and manly will it takes —
And that is what I've got —
To give up cutlets, chops and steaks,
But then I'd rather not.
I might reform in many ways,
There's need of it, I know,
And possibly one of these days,
An altered man I'll grow.
But ample time you must allow,
For, after all, great Scot,
I want some slight enjoyment now,
That's why I'd rather not.
~ Anonymous
"The Level And The Square"
We meet upon the level and we part upon the square.
What words of precious meaning these words Masonic are.
Come let us contemplate them, they are worthy of a thought,
In the very walls of Masonry the sentiment is wrought.
We meet upon the level though from every station come:
The rich man from his palace and the poor man from his home;
For the rich man must leave his wealth and state outside Masons' door,
And the poor man finds his best respect upon the checkered floor.
We act upon the plum, 'tis the order of our guide.
We walk upright in virtue's way and lean to neither side.
The All-seeing eye that reads our hearts doth bear a witness true,
That we still try to honor God and give each man his due.
We part upon the square for the world must have its due.
We mingle with the multitude, a faithful band and true,
But the influence of our gatherings in memory is green,
And we long upon the level to renew the happy scene.
Thus a world where all are equal, we are hurrying to it fast.
We shall meet upon the level there when the gates of death are passed.
We shall stand before the Orient and our Master will be there
To try the blocks we offer with His own unerring square.
We shall meet upon the level there but never thence depart.
There's a mansion 'tis all ready for each trusting, faithful heart;
There's a mansion and a welcome and a multitude are there
Who have met upon the level and been tried upon the square.
Let us meet upon the level while labeling patient here.
Let us meet and let us labor though the labor be severe.
Already in the western sky the signs bid us prepare
To gather up our working tools and part upon the square,
Hands round ye faithful brotherhood the bright fraternal chain;
We part upon the square below to meet in heaven again.
What words of precious meaning these words Masonic are:
We part upon the level and we part upon the square.
~ V. A. M., the Motherlode Mine
"What Is Life To You?"
To the preacher life's a sermon,
To the joker it's a jest;
To the miner life is money,
To the loafer life is rest.
To the lawyer life's a trial,
To the poet life's a song;
To the doctor life's a patient
That needs treatment right along.
To the soldier life's a battle,
To the teacher life's a school;
Life's a good thing to the grafter,
It's a failure to the fool.
To the man upon the engine
Life s a long and heavy grade;
It's a gamble to the gambler,
To the merchant life's a trade
Life's a picture to the artist.
To the rascal life's a fraud;
Life, perhaps is but a burden
To the man beneath the hod.
Life is lovely to the lover,
To the player life's a play;
Life may be a load of trouble
To the man upon the dray.
Life is but a long vacation
To the man who loves his work;
Life's an everlasting effort
To shun duty to the shirk.
To the heaven's best romancer
Life's a story ever new;
Life is what we try to make it —
Brother, what is life to you?
~ Anonymous
FOOTNOTES:
"Greenwood"
Boundary Creek Times — Jul 23, 1909, p. 2
https://open.library.ubc.ca/collections/bcnewspapers/xboundarycr/items/1.0171308
"The Path The Calf Made"
Boundary Creek Times — Sep 08, 1905, p. 4
https://open.library.ubc.ca/collections/bcnewspapers/xboundarycr/items/1.0171625
"His Difficulty"
Boundary Creek Times — Sep 15, 1905, p. 6
https://open.library.ubc.ca/collections/bcnewspapers/xboundarycr/items/1.0172383
"The Level And The Square"
Boundary Creek Times — Dec 09, 1899, p. 3
https://open.library.ubc.ca/collections/bcnewspapers/xboundarycr/items/1.0170318
"What Is Life To You?"
Boundary Creek Times — May 22, 1908, p. 3
https://open.library.ubc.ca/collections/bcnewspapers/xboundarycr/items/1.0171572
