A.Z.P.
MEMORIES SAD AND SWEET
While swaying gently to and fro
In the firelights' ruddy glow,
I am thankful for my peaceful home
And the blessings that I know.
I see the snow on hill and vale.
The work of the Winter King,
I need it not as I sit by the fire
And hear the children sing.
And think of the sons and daughters
That have left the old home nest,
Left their place by the fireside,
Yet live in their mothers' breast.
While they sing the songs I love,
Sweet memories come to me
Of the time when each was a tiny babe
In my arms and on my knee.
When one by one come to me,
My tender love to share,
With each one come an ocean of love,
With each a world of care.
With thankful heart I welcomed each,
Sweet cheer from up above,
There is no care like a mothers' care,
Or love like mothers' love.
Through anxious days and sleepless nights
I watched each cradle bed,
God only knows of the fervent prayers
Or the silent tears that were shed.
The prayers that were wasted on the silent air,
For each cannot be told,
I know God heard them every one
For they were many fold.
With patient love I toiled for them
With willing heart and hand,
And saw them grow like blossoms sweet,
The fairest in the land.
With love and joy and sorrows deep,
I tried to do my part,
God knows the cause of the shattered hope,
And of the broken heart.
He knows the pain and trials too,
Under which my soul did bow
"Tis not strange the form is bent
And features faded now.
Yet God through all to me was good,
On His love I can depend,
He has ever been a guiding star,
A never failing friend.
Then let us build upon His rock,
And not on shifting sand,
Keep us; Father, if Thou wilt
In the hollow of Thy hand.
Then when the cares of life are o'er,
And we complete the work that's given,
Thou canst gladly welcome each of us
To thine own sweet home and Heaven.
AMY Z. PORTER
GOD BLESS THE CHILDREN
God bless the dear children with eyes dark or blue
Their smiles are like sunshine, their kisses like the dew,
Their arms around your neck are like gems of great worth,
Jewels more precious ne'er come to the earth.
They're like the bright sunshine to those that love,
As playful as kittens, as gentle as doves,
Their laughter and prattle are both very sweet,
As well as the patter of their dear little feet.
Their cuteness and goodness and sweetness combined,
Like violets and daisies and primroses fine,
To the lives of their parents they're truly apart
Of the light of their home and the joy of their hearts.
Their noble pure spirits deserve to come forth,
When evil and sorrow should cover the earth,
To hear of God's kingdom and bind Satan fast
And presented all spotless to Jesus at last.
A.Z.P.
KINDNESS REWARDED
How truly I thank you for your kindness and love
'Tis a gift from they Father who lives up above,
Each act of true kindness will bring a reward,
Those that give to the poor truly lend to the Lord.
You've received a reflection from Jesus 'own heart,
One that is truly a most precious part,
I love our dear Savior fondly and true,
You being his offspring, I also love you.
I cannot repay you in gold's' glittering lore,
For these are not had by the needy and poor,
I give you a love tender and pure,
A love that will ever abide and endure.
May Father increase thee and add to thy store,
And keep thy heart open to the needs of the poor,
Each act of true kindness will bring a reward,
Those that give to the poor truly lend to the Lord.
Amy Z. Porter
NOT TO BE FOUND
There is not a place on the face of the earth
Where charity dwelleth and virtue hath birth,
Where bosoms in kindness and sympathy heath
And the poor and the wretched may ask and receive
There is no place on earth where a knock from the poor
Would send a kind angel to open the door,
Search this world over wherever you can
You'll find no open doors for the poor, honest man.
Go to the church whose cloud-reaching spire
Sends back to the sun the same look of red fire
Its pillars and arches are gorgeous within,
Its walls are as pure as a soul without sin,
Walk down the isle where the rich and the great
In all of the pomp of their worldly estates;
Go there in your patches and find if you can
Who will offer a seat to a poor honest man?
Go to the hall where the bright electric light
Chase off with its brightness the darkness of night,
Where mirrors in silver send back there renew,
The long lighted misty the wandering Jew,
Go there in the ballroom and find if you can
A welcoming smile for a poor honest man.
Go to the judge in his long flowing qown
Where in the scales of the law weighteth equity down,
He frowns on the weak and smiles on the strong
He punishes right while he justifies wrong,
The jurors their lips on the bible have laid
And rendered a verdict for which they've been paid,
Go there in the courtroom and find if you can
Any law or justice for a poor honest man.
Go to the bank where man on has told
Its hundreds and thousands of silver and gold,
Where safe from the hands of the needy and poor
Lie heaps upon heaps of the glittering ore,
Walk up to the counter, there you may stay
Till your limbs grow old and your hair grows gray,
You'll find at the bank no one of the clan
Has a dollar to lend to a poor honest man.
And go to your home no ravens have fed,
The wife that too long has suffered from bread,
Kneel down by her bed and kiss the death frost,
From the lips of the angel your poverty lost,
Then turn in your agony upward to God,
And bless while its smites you the chastening rod,
You will find at the end of life's bitter stand
A welcome in Heaven for the poor honest man.
A.Z.P.
DO YOU LOVE ME
Tell me, dearest, do you love me
As you did long years ago,
When my hair was bright as sunshine?
CHORUS
Tell, Oh tell me do you love me
As you did long years ago.
Do you love the stooping figure?
And the voice so faltering slow,
As you did the tall, fair woman
And sweet voice of long ago?
When you see the many children
That has slumbered on my breast,
And hear their children's' merry voices,
Tell me when you love me best.
CHORUS
Tell me while I'm sitting near you
With my head upon your breast.
A.Z.P.
FORTY-ONE
How oft I have wandered for pleasure
O'er meadow through woodland and dell,
I have seen the sweet flowers of springtime
When the birds they're sweet songs of love tell.
I have gazed with delight on the riverlet
That ripples through forest and glen,
I have smiled at the beauty of childhood,
And heard the false flattery of men.
I have tasted the sweet with the bitter,
The portion of mothers and wife.
Joy and sorrow coming late
Have made up my record through life.
I've had sunshine and sorrow full many
Since my life's work on earth was begun,
And now I am old let me tell you
That today, I am just forty-one.
A.Z.P.
OUR BISHOP
They have given us a Bishop,
A man of humble birth,
That adds unto his usefulness,
And magnifies his worth.
A common judge in Israel,
The meaning is two-fold,
First the love of human kind,
Next the love of gold.
Though a man may be a Bishop,
With the people at his back,
He cannot walk a crooked road
And cover up the track.
Thus the Savior taught us,
You know the story well,
Of how the selfish rich mans'
Abiding place was hell.
How through the love of money,
That seemed to him so great,
The poor, but humble Lazarus
Died starving at his gate.
To soothe the heart of sorrow,
Or lighten another pains,
Like bread cast on the waters,
Will return to us again.
A nod, a smile, a friendly hand,
Their worth cannot be told,
They add unto the joy of man
At least a hundred fold.
To cheer the sod and lonely,
The weak and trodden down,
These were the gems of beauty
That adored the Savior's crown.
A father to his people,
A man of humble birth,
That added to his greatness,
And magnified his worth.
AMY Z. PORTER
IT' STRANGE
It seems to me so very strange
That Adam and Eve did not know
That he was a man and she a woman
'Till the Devil told him so.
After partaking of the forbidden fruit
That would gladden their hearts for life,
Their Father came down in the cool of the day,
He blamed it to his wife.
Though all the years that have come and gone,
It has always been the same;
Whatever evil has been done,
The woman is to blame.
No man has done an evil thing;
No, not in all his life.
All the evil that is done
Has been done by his wife.
The woman bears this patiently,
Because their heads are level,
Self-righteous men and evil things
Come right straight from the Devil.
A.Z.P.
SIXTY FIVE YEARS
Sixty-five years, how few remain
The story to relate,
Of people in our free land
Being driven from the state.
They were forced by a cruel mob to flee
While their homes burned bright and red,
They had the blue sky for their roof,
The cold ground for their bed.
Their suffering and privation
By man can not be told,
Oh who can tell the suffering caused?
From hunger and from cold.
Yet they were more greatly blessed
Than many were of old,
They had a Prophet called of God
To guard the scattered fold.
They prayed," God, who suffereth this,
Thou knowest all our grief,
Hide not Thy face from us, we pray,
But send us quick relief.
"The Gospel sound we must obey,
As restored to us again,
For which the wicked seek our lives,
Which cause all our pain."
He called the sisters to his aid,
Who rallied to his call,
He said, " Go forth with the help of God,
There's work enough for all.
The Savior taught while here on earth,
"In giving alms be free,
If you give unto the least of these,
You have given unto me."
A.Z.P.
DON'T GRUMBLE
What's the use of grumbling, Molly?
Times have been as hard before,
Ever since those days of Adam,
Their have been the rich and poor;
Then be patient, little woman,
Do not grumble any more.
Though we have but little money,
And our house is not in style,
We have health of mind and body,
At the hard times, we can smile;
Then be patient, little woman,
Do not grumble all the while.
A.Z.P.
FOR GRANDMA
Gathering beautiful daisies
To weave a garland fair,
To rest on the silken tresses
Of Grandma's snowy hair.
She sits in her armchair smiling,
Her dear eyes so full of love,
We know that God has lent her
From His beautiful home above.
Her form is worn and weary,
She has lived a life of care,
Her heart is as true as the heavens are blue,
And her soul than its light more fair.
Then twine and wroth of lilies,
A thousand times more fair,
To rest on the silken tresses
Of Grandma's snowy hair.
A.Z.P.
LINES TO A FRIEND
How truly I love thy sweet gentle ways,
Thy heart that is ready to love and to praise
The noble and good, the faithful and true,
With a love that will ever be given to you.
We've only to know thee to love thy pure heart,
Thou seem'st of my being a most precious part
Ne'er will I forget thy sweet gentle ways,
I know they are thine rest of thy days.
To be a true mother is noble and great;
The noble of earth in their worldly estates,
Know not of the peace, the love and the joys
Of a loving, true mother with her girls and her boys.
The riches of earth will perish and fly,
While the souls of our children never will die
They're the best gifts that from God e'er were given,
Our joy on earth and our glory in Heaven.
God bless thee forever, may the love and the peace,
That dwells in thy heart forever increase,
May thy husband and children rejoice in thy love
As it flows to thy heart from thy father above.
In all thy endeavors as counselor and friend,
May the spirit of God all thy labors attend;
Then seek on Him often for wisdom and light,
That all of thy words and thy ways may be light.
He never will forsake thee or leave thee alone
Though trials and sorrows may darken thy home
And pain and affliction thy portion may be,
His spirit shall ever be watching o'er thee.
A.Z.P.
JULY 5, 1903
Hearts that weep and sigh and sorrow
For their dear ones gone before
Can be found In countless numbers
For they reach from shore to shore.
Often hearts are wrung with anguish
And in grief our days are spent,
Though the finals that we cherish
Were not ours but only lent.
Father placed them in our keeping
As a holy sacred trust chooseth,
And He calleth whom He chooseth,
And in all things He is just.
God sends trials to His children
None escape the trying hand,
For He planteth and He plucketh
The fairest flowers in all the land.
The fairest flowers are first that fadeth,
Are plucked from out the garden bed,
And the brightest of our jewels,
Are those that numbered with the dead.
For the gold must be divided
From the dross by nature given,
That our hearts may be made perfect
Like our fathers up in Heaven.
That we here may meet our loved ones
When our Fathers bids us come,
Joyous then will be the meeting
When He bids us welcome home.
Short will be the time of parting
Just a few short days or years,
When of we are true and faithful
Joy will dry the falling tears.
Then there will be no more parting
But eternally will dwell,
Free from pain and sin or sorrow
With the ones we love so well.
All must pay the debt of nature,
Given the life that only lent
And must answer to their father
For the way that it is spent.
May we give it pure and spotless
As then trusted to our care,
And as free from ought that evil
As the ones that's sheltered there.
Sights and tears are only useless,
And will shorten there our stay,
Better trust in God our giver,
And cast useless cares away.
Those for whom our hearts are breaking,
Are in happiness complete
They are sort in Gods own keeping
And we know their rest is sweet.
Pray to God for strength and patience,
For the trials sent us one by one,
And to say in all things, "Father,"
"May Thy will alone be done."
Look beyond all earthly shadows,
Though it seems to you afar,
No day go bright, but has its shadows
And no night without its star.
A.Z.P.
LITTLE ANNIE
Annie's' voice is gentle
As the cooing of a dove,
It bringeth joy and gladness,
Happiness and love.
I remember its sweet music
Although in childhood heard,
It's pretty childish prattle,
Like the warble of a bird.
The ripple of the wavelet
Or the floweret's gentle moan
Can never charm its hearers
Like the voice of Annie Jones.
A.Z.P.
THE FORSAKEN WIFE
While sadly sitting alone today
In the place that I call home,
My thoughts go back from the present time
To a time that's long since flown.
When I a youthful maiden gay,
With heart so light and free,
Was sought by a tall and princely man,
Better known to you than me.
With word of love he sought my side,
Love beamed from his eyes of jet,
The words he spoke were dear to me,
I was caught in the ready net.
By day and night he sought my side,
Until I became his wife,
And placed my happiness in his care,
For the remainder of my life.
For a few sweet years of our married life
No happier wife could be,
When I was in our happy home
His presence was heaven to me.
And when dark shadows came to me
His love soon cleared my brow,
And made my heart so light and free,
O, mark the difference now.
Now oft I weep most bitterly,
Oh, do I weep in vain,
Or will that joy that once was mine
Return to my heart again?
I would be left to weep alone,
Were it not for our darling boy,
Were it not for him I would feel bereft
Of all life's love and joy.
Oh what has caused this dreadful change?
My heart I know is true;
Can it be aught that I have done?
Oh tell me husband do.
Like a vane my love is around him twined,
Don't tear it from its rest,
Or chill the love of a faithful heart,
That beats within my breast.
My love for him has stronger grown,
If such a thing could be,
Oh if my arching heart but knew
He felt the same for me.
The forest deep or desert wild,
A pleasant place would build a cottage there,
And share the some with me.
For I have ever been to him,
A faithful loving wife,
And for him never cease to pray
While love is the joy of life.
A.Z.P.
THE BREEZE
Wandering through the pleasant valley
As the buds their blossoms swell,
By the stream of crystal water
As it ripples through the dell.
Swaying all the leaves and branches
With it's breath so fresh and cool,
Even the birds are filled with gladness
As they skim the rippling pool.
Trees and flowers are gently waving,
And the slender corn stalks fair
Bow their golden yellow tassels,
As it passes through the air.
Giving life and breath and coolness
To all living things below,
While the air is close and sweltery
Then, oh breezes gently blow.
Blow and let the cool breath enter
Near the sleeping infants' bed,
Gently wave the wand we pray thee,
O'er the little sleepers head.
Filling every nook with coolness,
With the breath of blossoms rare,
Let the cool breath stir the ringlets
Of the maiden's sunny hair.
Oh how pleasant are the breezes.
Stealing in each shady nook,
And to see the leafy branches
Waving gently o'er the brook.
And we smell the breath of summer
Wafted gently on the breeze,
With fragrance of the blossoms
From the orchard's whitening trees.
Welcome, then, sweet summer breezes,
Scatter blessings as you go,
Filling every heart with gladness,
Summer breezes gently blow.
-Amy Z. Porter
THE DIFFERENCE
It's just the way with Rosie,
She'll pout and fret and stew,
She makes her mother nervous,
And her sisters all feel blue.
She never has enough to eat.
She is either hot or cold,
Her dollies are no good she says,
Because they are too old.
She doesn't like the kitten,
She says it scratched her hand,
The children says she has no right
Playing in the sand.
The flowers are always ugly,
The sunshine is never bright,
She has a scowl upon her face
From morning until night.
Now we'll see the difference.
Here's darling little Grace,
Her heart is full of sunshine,
No shadows cross her face.
Her dollies are her darlings,
To her, they ne'er grow old,
She is never very hungry,
And just a little cold.
She loves her kitten dearly,
As she pets and strokes its head;
She rocks it till it goes to sleep,
Then puts it in to bed.
The flowers are always lovely,
The sunshine's always bright,
Like a little bird, she's singing
From morning until night.
Her heart is full of sunshine,
And Rosies' full of showers;
Yet mother loves them each the same,
They are both her precious flowers.
Amy A. Porter
THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT
When Adam was created
And opened first his eyes,
He stood and gazed around him
In wonder and surprise.
He saw the beauteous garden
And everything so fair,
He drank in all its loveliness,
And breathed the pure fresh air.
He saw all living creatures,
And beast that God had made;
They slowly passed before him,
As he sat there in the shade.
As he gave a name to each,
The slowly went away;
Not one among the number
With Adam wished to stay.
His heart grew sad and lonely,
His eyes began to weep;
He sobbed away his sorrow
Then gently fell asleep.
As peacefully he slumbered
He dreamed a pleasant dream;
He thought he saw a maiden fair
By the side of a running stream.
He awoke and gazed around him,
The breathed a heavy sigh;
He saw no form beside him,
For the mist was in his eye.
A gentle voice whispered,
"Behold me, I am here,"
He turned and gazed upon her,
His eyes were now quite clear.
He put his arms around her,
I'm thankful that you came,
You shall stay with me forever,
Woman is your name."
Satan, He was subtle,
For evil he was made;
One day he saw the lovely girl
Sitting in the shade.
He said, "My charming creature,
I find you here alone,
Adam is working yonder,
This garden is your home."
"We can have fruit from all these trees,
Except the one near by,
The day in which you eat that,
You both shall become wise."
"You are a charming creature,
And pleasing unto me,
We'll eat the fruit together,"
And he plucked some from the tree.
When Adam came, he gazed at her
In wonder and surprise,
He saw roses on her cheeks
And the sparkle in her eyes.
She said, "The serpent has been here,
'Twas Satan in disguise,
He says the day we eat that fruit,
We both shall become wise."
An angry flash o'er spread his face,
He said, "I'll slay the brute,"
Then immediately reached out his hand
And partook of the forbidden fruit.
How ashamed they both did feel
When the scales fell from their eyes,
But they were always glad the serpent came
To teach them to be wise.
THE TRULY BEAUTIFUL
While quietly sitting by the warm fireside
Looking at the wintry sky
Thinking how changes come to all
As the days and weeks go by.
I saw the earth in her robe of white,
And thought the time is brief,
When she'll change here dress for one more day,
Bedecked by flower and leaf.
As thus I ponder there came to my ears
The sound of childish joys,
I looked in the yard and saw at play
Many pretty girls and boys.
Their cheeks all aglow with rosy youth,
So joyous and so gay,
"The spring time of life is sweet," thought I,
"Be happy while you may."
As I turned from this picture fair,
Another one met my view,
'Twas that of a woman in the winter of life,
Whom in my days of youth I knew.
Her form was bent; her hair was white,
I could see no sunshine there,
But saw in the dear and withered face
A life of sorrow and care.
I sighed as I noticed the dreadful change
A few short years had made,
And traced deep lines in cheek and brow,
The finger of time has made.
"The winter of life is cold," though I,
As I looked I could see no trace
In either form or face.
But I saw in the dept of those aged eyes
A light, as the light of Heaven,
A look of beautiful sweet content
Which to none but the ages is given.
I reverently gazed on a face more fair
Then was e'er formed by a sculptor's mold,
The young are fair and very fair,
But the true beauty is with the old.
For they are as gold in the furnace case.
And cleansed from every dross,
Fair is the soul of the ages one
Who has faithfully born life's cross.
As she disappeared from view,
I turned to the yard once more,
And saw the children still at play
As joyous as before.
They looked like beautiful flowers of spring
In nature's fairest bowers,
Time in its flight will change them, too.
To faded withered flowers.
For he in his travels brings sorrows to all
That from God to us are given,
To cleanse us from the sins of life
And prepare our souls for heaven.
Amy Z. Porter
MUST WE PART
They called from me my noble son
To wander far away;
My spirit gives him up to go,
My loving hearts says, stray.
Oh, can it be that I must part
From one so kind and true;
Or must I bow to Gods' commands,
As mothers all must do?
Since a little child he has toiled for me
With willing heart and hand,
Oft I have said but for his help
I surely could not stand.
A faithful son, a brother kind,
What can a mother do?
To fill the place of a son so dear
And love as I love you?
May the God above protect my boy
And lengthen out his life,
And bless him with a safe return,
Free from sorrow or from strife.
Fill his soul with joy and peace,
I ask it, God, of thee,
That he be faithful in all things
As he has been to me.
I put him in thy gracious care,
And bid my heart be still,
And pray that he may ever be
Submissive to Thy will.
May he return in Gods' own time
To me a crown of joy,
May my celestial home be blessed
With the presence of my boy.
AMY Z. PORTER
MINISTER OF LOVE
When the Gospel light first dawned for us,
And was budding into life,
Peace seemed to be taken from the earth
Leaving turmoil and strife.
A prophet called from a humble home,
An angel sent to earth,
Aroused the enmity of men,
As at the time of our Saviors birth.
No peace or rest that prophet knew,
With his devoted band,
No place was found where they could rest
In their own native land.
The aged and driven from their homes,
In winter's bitter blast,
Blood marked the trial on the frozen ground,
Where those poor people passed.
That prophet saw with troubled heart
Their suffering and distress,
Sympathy and love grew warm
Within his manly breast.
He strove to soothe each troubled heart,
And lighten every pain,
God lent him wisdom from on high,
His efforts were not vain.
He knew the tender sympathy
Of every woman's' heart,
That she by deeds and words of love
Great blessings could impart.
He gave to them a special call,
Set apart by his own hand,
Sent them as ministers of love
To the afflicted in the land.
A heavenly blessing was pronounced
On every worker's head,
No tongue can tell the hearts they cheered,
Or the hungry they have fed.
They sought out the sad and lonely,
The aged and the poor,
And like a ray of sunshine
Left blessings at their door.
The prayers from little children's' hearts
Were ascended up above,
To ask of God a blessing
For those ministers of love.
With cheerful hearts their work is done,
Their numbers now are great,
The life of their dear Savior
They try to emulate.
They know each deed or word of love
Will bring a sure reward,
And meet the full approval
Of their Prophet and their Lord.
AMY Z. PORTER
MEMORIAL
Thou hast labored and faithful
For God's promise to the blessed,
In His house found a place to rest.
Like a spring of living water
Was thy love for God and truth,
We'll forget thy labors never,
Or thy love for Zion's youth.
May God protect thy wife and children
With his circling arm of love,
And lead them through this vale of sorrow
To thy dwelling place above.
Thou was patient in affliction;
Hope dispels the gathering gloom,
Rest in peace till God shall call thee
From the silence if the tomb.
AMY Z. PORTER
CONGRATULATIONS
Now you are joined in wedlock's bands-
May you happy be,
May you sail the voyage of life
On a calm and peaceful sea.
May no dark clouds o'er shadow you
Or troubled waters flow,
To disturb the peace of the little craft
As on through life you go.
May your home be a home of perfect bliss,
With happiness complete,
And all your cares be little ones
That cluster around your feet.
Should dark clouds arise and cold rain fall
And beat upon your head,
Look to Him who hears the widow's cry
And gives the orphans bread.
Peach will come to the troubled heart,
And lighten every doubt or fear
As sunshine scatters rain.
Take your troubles to the throne of God,
And lay them at His feet,
And know if the bitter never comes
You will weary of the sweet.
A.Z.P.
DEAR FRIEND
I of times think of days long past
When we were girls together,
Wind or rain disturbed is not;
It was always sunny weather.
We felt no fear and knew no care;
Our hearts were free and light,
The sun shines bright thro' the early day,
Though all is dark at night.
I have found the bitter with the sweet;
The bitter bearing away,
On earth our joy is not complete;
There is no perfect day.
The sweetest rose has a hidden thorn;
Its use we do not see,
You can read the sharpness of its sting
When you sit and look at me.
Yet the Gospel light and a mothers' love
Fill my heart to the very core,
I can see why Father thought it best
To try us o'er and o'er.
I have walked along life's thorny road
And bitter tears have shed,
I am glad the years are back of me,
With just a few ahead.
When we complete the work allotted us
And God calls us back again,
May He say, "Well done, dear, faithful ones,
You have souls without a stain,"
A.Z.P.
DO YOU THINK OF MOTHER?
Do you ever think of Mother
With her heart so full of care,
Ever anxious for her children,
Always wondering where they are.
Do you ever think of Mother
Watching, waiting day by day,
For a message from her dear ones
That have gone from her away.
Do you ever think of Mother
Kneeling by her bed to pray,
For the Lord to keep them ever
In the straight and narrow way.
Do you ever think of Mother
Now that she is growing old,
Has the love you once had for her
In your hearts forever grown cold.
Let me have a few lines from you,
Let me hear that you are well,
All the joy those words would bring me
There is none would ever tell.
A.Z.P.
DARLING JEAN
Darling Jean, the days are lonely,
And my heart is filled with pain,
When I see the budding branches,
Now that spring has come again.
Jean and I together wandered
When the autumn leaves were red,
When the earth brought fourth her blossoms,
Then my darling Jean was dead.
Now she sleeps beneath the lilac,
And my heart is filled with pain,
When I see their flowering beauty,
Now that spring has come again.
Gently weave thy tender branches
O'er the grave of her I love,
Bear the fragrance of thy blossoms
To my darling Jean above.
A.Z.P.
DID WE THINK TO PRAY
When our hearts are filled with gladness
Do we think to pray?
When bright flowers strew our pathway
And no shadows cross our way,
And all nature smiles around us,
Then do we forget to pray?
When the sun shines bright above us,
Do we think to pray?
While rich gifts are sent to cheer us
And we lack no friends today,
When in joy and peace and plenty,
Then do we forget to pray?
In the prime of youth and manhood,
Do we think to pray?
That the Lord will not forsake us
When dark trials cross our way,
But will be our shield and comfort
If we don't forget to pray.
When bright stars shine ever o'er us,
Do we think to pray?
And rich blessings freely given
Fill our hearts with joy each day,
While we have no cause for sorrow,
Then do we forget to pray?
Father never will forsake us
If we think to pray,
But will guide our footsteps ever
Through life's dark and troubled way,
And will smile upon us ever
If we don't forget to pray.
A.Z.P.
DO WHAT IS RIGHT
Do what is right by day and night,
And never stoop to sin,
Drive evil thoughts from out your hearts
Nor let them enter in.
Walk in the paths of truth and right,
Whatever may betide,
Men may frown, it matters not,
While God is on your side.
The paths of sin may pleasant seem,
They leave behind a sting,
The soul is ever seared and scarred
That dares to walk there in.
Full oft have we seen the silly moth
When tempted by the flame
Fly into the dazzling light
And never come out again.
Think of the silly little moth
When temptations little moth
Before it is too late.
A.Z.P.
THE WIFE'S FORGIVENESS
Dear heart, you ask my forgiveness,
Those words from one that I love,
Did melt my heart into weeping,
Like the lament of a sweet turtledove.
My heart is so tender towards you
And quick to forgive, and you know
One word of love or of kindness
Does cause it to melt like the snow.
For love is like the dew on the flowers,
It moistens them through the hot day,
Should the dewdrop chance to roll from them,
How soon they would wither away.
Then tenderly cherish each feeling
That gives to us joy while we live,
And as we hope for forgiveness
We will surely as freely forgive.
In my heart I ne'er cherished a feeling
To thee but the purest and best,
The fear that my love would do evil
Has deprived me of hours of rest.
Now that I know you are constant,
Those feelings have faded like dew,
Like a bird that is weary of waiting,
Had I wings I would fly unto you.
I would rest my head on your bosom,
With my lips I would kiss cheek to brow,
And comfort the heart of the husband
Whom I know will be true to me now.
Then be faithful in all things forever,
As you will be faithful to me,
Then the spirit of God will not leave you,
But make you so happy and free.
Be faithful and true to the Gospel
And honor your calling in life,
A heavenly blessing was pronounced
On every worker's head,
That you my enter God's kingdom
And meet with your children and wife.
AMY Z. PORTER
WEEP NOT
Weep not that God has called him home,
For he is not at rest,
And in the kingdom of the Lord
Forever to be blest.
We all must pass from earth away,
And he the debt has paid,
In a cold and silent grave
His sacred dust is laid.
While in the land that he was blest
With friends that were true and tried.
His noble heart was full of joy,
And he was satisfied.
Still from that land he had to go
In other lands to dwell,
Now he's free from toil and care,
And stands on Zion's hill.
He is in the land of love and peace,
Where all is light and joy,
And in the kingdom of the lord,
There you will find your boy.
He is in the land of perfect bliss,
How happy none can tell,
Where sickness and death can never come,
Forever there to dwell.
And looking on the cold clay,
In which his soul was bound,
His heart is full of light and joy,
For freedom he has found.
His heart is noble and so good,
Was pure as the snow,
When we, like him, are good enough,
Then we will have to go.
While looking back on your own life
So full of grief and pain,
Just ask your own kind loving heart,
Would it call him back again?
Amy Z. Porter
MY MOTHER
When first I opened my little eyes,
To see whom I could see,
I saw my darling mother
Looking down at me.
She stroked and kissed my little cheek,
Then cuddled me to rest,
Say, but I was happy
While slumbering on her breast.
She watched o'er me and prayed for me,
And cared each day for me,
My mother is the dearest thing
God ever sent this way.
She's fairer than the flowers of spring,
True and constant as the night,
A mother nobler, truer, better
Never shall behold the light.
Amy Z. Porter
MY NEIGHBOR
I ate my supper of bread and milk,
It was sweet and fresh and new,
I retired at nine with thankful heart,
And dreamed a dream of you.
I dreamed I sat in my little home,
So tidy, clean, and neat,
A lady with a basket came to my door,
With milk and thing to eat.
I hastened to open the door for her,
And learn who she might be,
I heard your voice say, "Auntie, dear,
It is no one else but me."
I awoke and thought of God's great love,
A father kind and true,
Then thanked Him as I oftimes have,
For a loving friend like you.
Amy Z. Porter
WHAT MOTHER SAID TO ME
What is life that we should weep,
And sigh with sobbing breath,
Because the friends we dearly love
Are called away by death.
Have left this world of toll and care,
And years of bitter pain,
For God in pity and in love
Has called them home again.
While in snowy grace they lie,
Devoid of life and breath,
We look upon the silent form,
And say this is death.
But when we see our evil deeds
Stand out in bold relief,
Before the searching eyes of God,
I know that this is grief.
And if in anger he shall say
With flaming eyes and breath,
"Go hence, I've seen your evil deeds,"
That would in deed be death.
Oh weep no bitter tears for me,
Or sigh and sob with grief,
When my poor heart is free from care,
And my spirit finds relief.
But lay me in some quite spot,
In natures fairest bowers,
Where bird may sing sweet songs o'er me,
And children gather flowers.
And when the Lord shall call me forth
From that long rest and sweet,
May I sing songs of joy and praise,
While kneeling at his feet.
May all that are so dear to me
Join in the chorus sweet,
My sorrows then will be forgot,
With happiness complete.
Amy Z. Porter
MOTHER STORK
Old mother stork was hastening on,
One dark and stormy night,
She said to be out a night like this
Is certainly a fright.
There are some things that get my goat,
I oftimes do remark,
And wonder why I am so often called
When the nights are cold and dark.
It seem to me if I were they,
And such work must be done,
I would do it by the light of day
In the warm rays of the sun.
And not go snooping around the night
To tell my love and spark,
And then when the nights are cold and damp
Send out the poor mother stork.
AMY Z. PORTER
ONLY A GIRL
It was the flowery month of June,
The sky was soft and blue,
The air was filled with sweet perfume
Of roses and lily too.
There came to earth a little child,
Only a girl it was said,
Another helpless little one
To be warmed, clothed, and fed.
Her mother clasped her to her heart,
So loving and so true,
She nourished her with tender care
And like a flower she grew.
With tender care she watched o'er her
Until she reached woman's estate,
No fairer maiden ever grew
Among the rich or great.
And then she cast her lot with man
To share his toil and pain,
And be to him a helpmate true
In sunshine and in rain.
She has shared with him his toil and care,
And nobly did her part,
And wife more loving and more true
Ne'er blessed husbands' heart.
She filled his home with life and love,
With sons and daughters too,
Through her have many homes been blest,
As many yet may do.
Though only a girl, she's helped people the world,
And found the nation and state,
All honors's due the maiden so true,
Her mission most truly is great.
A.Z.P.
ONE DOLLAR
It was only a dollar bill that was given to me one day,
It seems a very little thing when you look at it that way,
But when you see the pleasure a dollar bill can bring,
You'd be surprised there's so much good in such a little thing.
It bought new milk for supper, twenty-four nights for two,
So you see there is much good a dollar bill can do can do,
We were thankful for that dollar bill; it brought us pleasure sweet,
It surely is a pleasure, To have good milk to eat.
Amy Z. Porter.
CALLED HOME
Weep not got the one that's departed,
Her troubles are sorrows are o'er,
We will meet her again crowned with glory,
With those who have gone on before.
We all loved her most dearly,
And with you did sorrow and weep
Till the angel of love whispered softly,
"In peace let thy darling one sleep."
"Disturb not the spirit that's happy,
The angels on heaven's bright shore,
She has left this world of deep sorrow
And cares not to come to it more."
"Her life work on earth here is finished,
Her sickness and suffering too,
She has gone to home in the heavens
Where a much greater work se can do."
Then why should her friends weep and sorrow
Because she was taken away,
The lord gave her life and existence
And told her how long she could stay.
God sent her to you for a reason,
That the foundation on earth she might lay,
She finished that work that was given,
In peace she was then called away.
It is her, Oh so hard to conquer
The feelings that fill the sad heart,
When we find all our prayers have been useless,
With our dear ones we surely must part.
A.Z.P.
BE KIND TO GRANDMA
Johnnie is but twelve years old,
With blue eyes clear and bright,
Although he's but a little lad,
He tries to do what's right.
He listens to his father's voice,
And his kind mother, too,
And chores around the best he can,
As all small boys should do.
He is not ashamed to walk by me,
And hold me by the hand,
To keep me from the slippery road,
And from the drifting sand.
He walks along close to my side,
And treats me very kind,
He feels so sorry for me now
That I am getting blind.
If all the little boys we know
Had hearts as good as he,
How many shadows would depart,
How bright the world would be.
A.Z.P.
OUR RESPECTS
With sad hearts we've met together,
Our last respects to pay,
To sister loved and loving,
Who from us is called away.
A few short days of pain and suffering,
While we watch with tender care,
Saying, "Heavenly father spare her."
It was our earnest, constant prayer.
WE will miss her gentle presence,
Her words of love we'll hear no more,
She has left this world of sorrow,
Passing to the other shore.
Though our prays were unavailing,
It was not to be his will,
And the parting is most bitter,
We will love and trust him still.
Sent from home to fill a mission,
Was her coming from above,
Willingly she left his presence,
And the ones she dearly loved.
Faithfully performed her labors,
To the gospel she was true,
Though with sadness left her loved ones,
Rejoices now her mission through.
Her earthly mission she has finished,
Has paved the way to Jesus' throne,
She has earned a sure salvation
And is glad to get back home.
In her youth she has been taken,
Back to Him her spirit gave,
We'll all truly love to meet her
In the home beyond the grave.
Amy Z. Porter
PRAYING FOR ME
God bless our dear mother, long may she live,
I know she is praying for me,
When trouble and sorrow darkens my home, I know she is praying for me.
When in the conflict of warfare and strife,
I know she is praying for me,
When evil or danger threatens my life,
I know she is praying for me.
When peace and prosperity gladdens my heart,
I know she is praying for me,
From truth and virtue my I never part,
I know she is praying for me.
My God give me strength to stand for the right,
I know she is praying for me,
May Satan be cast from my presence and sight,
When I know she is praying for me.
Though pain and affliction embitters her life,
I know she is praying for me,
And the bright star of hope is growing less bright,
I know she is praying for me.
When God calls her home in His presence to dwell,
I know she will be pleading for me,
May I be worthy to dwell there as well,
For I know she will be pleading for me.
HEARTS THAT WEEP
Hearts that weep and sigh and sorrow
For their dear ones gone before,
Can be found in countless numbers
For they reach from shore to shore.
Often hearts are rung with anguish
And in grief our days are spent,
Tho the finals that we cherish
Were not ours but only lent.
Father placed them in our keeping
As holy sacred trust,
And he calleth whom he choseth,
And in all things He is just.
God sends trails to His children,
None escape the trying ban,
For he planteth and he plucketh
The fairest flowers in all the land.
The fairest flowers are the first that fadeth
Are plucked from out the garden bed,
And the brightest of our jewels
Are those that numbered with the dead.
For the gold must be divided,
From the dross by nature given,
That our hearts may be made perfect,
Like our Fathers up in heaven.
That we there may meet our loved ones,
When our father bids us come,
Joyous then will be the meeting.
When he bids us welcome home.
Short will be the time of parting,
Just a few short days or years,
Then if we are true and faithful
Joy will dry the falling tears.
Then there will be no parting,
But eternally will dwell,
Free from pain or sin or sorrow
With the ones we love so well.
All must pay the debt of nature,
Give the life that only lent,
And must answer to their Father,
For the way that it is spent.
May we give it pure and spotless
As when trusted to our care,
And as free from aught that evil
As the ones that sheltered there.
Sighs and tears are only useless,
And will shorten here are stay,
Better trust in God our giver,
And cast useless cares away.
Those for whom our hearts are breaking
Are in happiness complete,
They are safe in God's own keeping,
And know their rest is sweet.
Pray to God for strength and patience,
For the trails sent us one by one,
And to say in all things, "Father,"
"May thy will be done."
Look beyond all earthly shadows,
Though it seems to you afar,
No day so bright, but has its shadows,
And no night without its star.
A.Z.P.
IN MY HEART
In my heart I oft have wondered
Why things are as they are,
Why the things we most desire
Seems away from us so far.
Why we reach for things beyond us
And in patience work and wait,
When at last we hold the treasure
It does not seem one have so great.
Why our spirits lean to heaven,
And our bodies cling to earth,
Each will love the home of childhood
And the land that gave it birth.
We are placed here in temptation,
And free to come and go,
Will we choose good or evil,
Is what Father wants to know.
Will we fight our earthly battles,
And stand valiant for the right,
If we do our Fathers bidding
He will help to win the fight.
In the conflict up in heaven
When the strife was fierce and great,
There we stood for truth and honor,
There we kept our first estate.
Then he sent us to be tempted
In a land to us unknown,
Though we loved the land of strangers
Yet our hearts will yearn for home.
A lonely homesick feeling
Often will our souls oppose,
And our hearts will yearn for some thing
That is hid within our breast.
Thus we go on in temptation,
Pausing oft for a new breath,
In our hearts a firm assurance,
Victory comes only with death.
A.Z.P.
QUEEN OF MAY
Sixty-nine years ago today,
There came to earth a queen of May,
A brighter cherub ne'er was seen,
Nor was there e'er a fairer queen.
She queened it o'er her mother true,
And knew just what she had to do,
She thrived and grew like a floweret gay,
This precious little queen of May.
When she had lived but four short years
She wiped away the baby's tears,
And taught him how to run and play,
Sweet, happy little queen all day.
She watched the cows and tended the sheep,
And never once was heard to weep,
She made fine clothes with colors gay,
This industrious helpful queen of May.
When she had grown to sweet sixteen,
No fairer maiden e'er was seen,
All hearts went out to the maiden gay,
They loved the charming queen of May.
I'll tell you what I think is great,
Her descendants now number just ninety-eight,
Her husband tells her every day,
He loves and admires his queen of May.
PAPA IS AWAY
Away down in Colorado
In a little mining town,
The air is cold and pasty
And the snow lies on the ground.
There men from every nation
Are laboring to the end,
That themselves, their wives and children
May have money for to spend.
It is needful to have money,
It brings us bread and meat,
It gives us warmth and shelter
And blessings that are sweet.
There is one that's dear to me,
Laboring there for gold,
God keeps him safe from accident,
From sickness or from cold.
His wife and little children
They are left so far away,
Do as of Gods blessing
For their dear one night and day.
His sweet to hear their prattle
Of Him they love so well,
The joy those dear ones bring us,
Our hearts alone can tell.
Oh, keep him safe, dear rather,
While from us he's called to roam,
Return him in peace and safety
To his loved ones and his home.
A.Z.P.
SAD
Oh the sad and dreadful tidings
Saying brother dear is dead,
And is quietly sleeping
In a still and narrow bed.
He has left this world of sorrow,
And will suffer here no more,
But we mourn in deepest sorrow
For the loved ones gone before.
I had hoped ones more to meet him,
But, alas, it will never be,
While we suffer pain and sorrow
On life's stormy troubled sea.
Yet to know that he has left us
Fills our hearts with feelings sad,
But to those who trust in Jesus
Death is not so very bad.
For the Gospel teaches truly
If we keep God's laws that are given,
We will dwell in His own presence
In a glorious home in Heaven.
Oh the thought is sweet and cheering,
And I ask one humble prayer,
That our friends that are gone before us
May our homes in Heaven share.
A.Z.P.
SEVENTY-ONE
I thank our Heavenly Father,
The creator of earth and sun,
For the many children given me,
I love them every one.
I have walked along life's thorny road,
There were thistles all the way,
Yet the Lord has preserved and kept me,
I am seventy-one today.
May all remember God is love,
And all His ways are just,
We will receive our wages
From Him we serve and trust.
AMY Z. PORTER
SENTIMENTS
Love is a tender clinging vine,
Its tendrils around our hearts entwine,
It stronger grows as years go by,
And clings the closer when we die.
In times of sunshine, wind or rain,
In times of joy, grief or pain,
In times of war or times of peace,
My love for you will never die.
There is a brother I once knew,
It seems to me resembles you,
Though years have passed since we last met
His dear face I will not forget.
Down in my heart so very full
Of trouble old and new,
There will always be a tender place,
And loving thoughts of you.
AMY Z. PORTER
MOTHER IS GONE
Mother is gone; we cannot recall her,
God has taken her away
From a world of sin and sorrow,
In a happier home to stay.
How we miss her loving counsel
And her ever anxious care,
None is sad and drear without her
Oh, such grief is hard to bear.
She was ever kind and loving,
And her counsel wise and good,
We'd have spared her every trouble,
Every sorrow if we could.
But the Lord has called her from us,
For we have no power to save,
And our Mother loved and loving
Sleeps within the silent grave.
So we'll follow in her footsteps,
From her counsel ne'er depart,
Then we'll cause no pain or sorrow
To our angel Mother's heart.
AMY Z. PPRTER
BE NOT WEARY
Dear heart, be not weary or sigh in thy sorrow
And trials thy Father has given to thee,
All of these trials are sent as a blessing
To teach thee that God doth still watch over all.
He sees all the things that so sorely perplexes thee,
And knows all thy suffering as mother and wife,
How thou hast ever been true to his teachings,
While suffering temptation in sorrow and strife.
The heart of a mother is oft crushed and bleeding
As a rose that is trodden by children at play,
How often they feel that by God they're forsaken
And left to wander alone by the way.
Not so, for He notes even the fall of a sparrow,
He never will leave thee to journey alone,
Thy prayers He will answer to thy satisfaction
While pleading thy cause at the feet of His throne.
Thy children may wander in pathways forbidden,
They all will be gathered to thee once again,
For after the sorrow then comes the rejoicing
As pleasure is sure to come after the pain.
God knows thee and loves thee through trials he sends thee,
He surely will shorten those cares unto thee,
And lengthen thy days for the good of the children
That lie in wisdom has given to thee.
Then be not down-hearted or giving to sorrow
For God never faileth to do all things well,
We know not the cause of the trials He gives us,
But Father in Heaven, He knoweth full well.
Then cling to His promise; they never will fail thee,
Or leave thee in darkness to wander alone,
But if thou art faithful, they will gently lead thee
To dwell in His presence and sit by His throne.
A.Z.P.
BE WISE
They say the world is getting wise
And men are getting great,
There is not one that can properly run
A nation or a state.
They are greedy, selfish, covetous,
They worship gold not God,
They have left the straight and narrow road
For the one that is short and broad.
If Christ would come to teach us now,
Clad in His coarse away,
They would run him in for vagrancy,
Because he was so poor.
In an automobile He would have to ride,
Not on an ass colt,
If they saw Him on a thing like that,
They would surely cut His throat.
What a wicked world is this,
And what will be its fate,
We soon will know the time is short,
We won't have long to wait.
Thee wisdom comes from God above,
Go seek and you shall find,
When you get it from that source,
You will have the proper kind.
If sin was punished of old,
Pause and hold your breath,
The men and women of today
Would all be stoned to death.
A.Z.P.
RANDOLPH
O this horrid dreadful country,
It does nothing here but blow,
We can not find our way about
For the blinding drifting snow.
It howls and screeches day and night,
Like demons in their cell,
I know that we have entered
On the border lone to Hell.
The cattle stand with stiffening limbs,
All white with frozen breath,
The foxtail hay they're feeding
Is choking them to death.
The coyote and the gray wolf howl,
No more the birds do sing,
For even the woodchuck and the owl
Are frozen on the wing.
The sunshine down on the frozen earth,
No warmth in its wintry breath,
But for the grease wood and the sage
We'd all freeze plump to death.
O give us back the dear old days
When in sunshine we did dwell,
I do not like the cold drear place
On the border line to Hell
MRS. J.P. PORTER
Jan. 17, 1913
AS OF OLD
The same old round of duties
We meet with day by day,
The sane old cares and worries
For the sober and the gay.
The same old path to walk in
Be it crooked, long or straight
The same old hope and failures
For the humble and the great.
The same old songs we're singing,
The same old stories told,
The same old joys and sorrows
For the timid and the bold.
The same old hearts we're loving,
The same dear friends we meet,
The same old cause we're pleading
At the blessed Savior's feet.
The same sweet home we're seeking,
The same dear souls to save,
The same short race we're running
From the cradle to the grave.
A.Z.P.
AUTUMN LEAVES
Autumn leaves are falling fast,
They are yellow, brown and red,
When we see their somber hue
We know that they are dead.
Their youthful look has faded now,
They are faded brown and old;
The parent stem to which they clung
Looks strangely bare and cold.
The soft green leaves that gave us shade
All through the summer heat,
Lie around us now in yellow heaps,
Or scattered at our feet.
When we see grim natures work
We know it will come to all,
For like the leaves in autumn time
We'll weather, fade, and fall.
And spring to life in some fair land
Where chilly winds ne'er blow,
We'll not be seared by autumn frost
Or chilled by winters' snow.
Where life and health and beauty too
Continue ever more,
For all is fair and beautiful
On Eternity's' bright shore.
A.Z.P.
ALWAYS THE SAME
I sought my love in the early morn,
When the sun was on the hill,
I sought her in the evening time,
When the air was cool and still.
I sought her in the summer heat,
When the sun was high and warm,
She was always loving, kind and true,
In sunshine or in storm.
Many long years I've loved with her,
In joy, grief and pain,
She has always been the same sweet girl;
I love her just the same.
A.Z.P.
BELATED SPRING
The sun was shining bright and warm;
The birds began to sing,
Their hearts were glad and happy
Because they thought it was spring.
Soon the wind began to blow
And fill their hearts with pain,
Instead of pleasant sunshine
They had but snow and rain.
Spring they had waited for so long,
Had loitered by the way,
The April days were nearly spent;
'Twas near the month of May.
No leaves adorned the stately trees,
Or violets strew the way,
The April showers must bring her flowers
In the sweet month of May.
A.Z.P.
ARTHUR ODD
Odd by nature, odd by name
Was the Arthur that I knew,
He labored hard from morn to night,
His heart was staunch and true.
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns his daily bread,
No hungry man comes to his door
That goes away unfed.
Though his cares are great and pleasures few,
Now he sits by the fire and sings;
I know the honest working men
Are our country's only kings.
This Arthur Odd is a friend of mine.
A humble, man, and yet
The gold of Midas could not buy
A gem so richly set.
The friendship of an honest man
Is a gem of value great,
The working men are the only proof
Of the nation and the state.
A.Z.P.
A WANDERER
Why dost thou wander so far, my dear sister,
Tell me where art thou, from whom dost thou flee,
I listen in vain for a sound of thy voice,
And look but no where thy dear face can I see.
Dost thy seek for a land that is teaming with beauty
Where the cold blasts of winter never are heard,
Where the hills and the valleys are bright with gay flowers,
And the woods ever ring with the sound of the bird?
Dost thou seek for a land where the dark clouds of heaven
Ne'er spreadeth a canopy over thy head,
Where the frost and the snow of chilly December
Shall greet thee with sunbeams like a clear, silver thread?
If fortune that favors you know, my dear sister,
Such pleasures, as those should chance thine to be
Blow loudly the note of success, my dear sister
And I will arise and come settle with thee.
A.Z.P.
BABEL MUST FALL
Bablans' towers are toppling now
Its walls are crumbling down,
It soon will disappear from earth
And never more be found.
Its evils have spread o'er the land,
Its wickedness is great,
Those that partake of all its plagues
Will suffer a dreadful fate.
Gods' cleansing time has now begun,
Satan's' reigns will soon be o'er,
The chains that bind him will be strong,
He will trouble earth no more.
A.Z.P.
A VISIT TO THE OLD FOLKS
Good morning, dear parents how do you do?
How have you been since we parted from you?
It seems like a long since we parted in the street,
It makes us the happier again for to meet.
Brothers and sisters, how happy you seem,
Can it be true or is it a dream
That I am permitted, if but for a spell,
In your circle to be, in your presence to dwell?
Nephews and nieces, and friends all so dear,
I once did not think you would e'er see me here,
When of a dear brother I hear was bereft?
Sad was the feeling that in my bosom was left.
I though to this valley I never would come,
And never, no never, would make it my home,
Now these sad feelings have all passed away,
Happy am I to be with you today.
All round I have been, all things I have seen,
To the grave of my brother, now growing so green,
To be in your presence have been sweet to me,
Your voices to hear and your faces to see.
Dear parents, good-bye, we must now go away,
Please do not cry nor ask us to stay,
In some future time we hope to dwell near.
The home of our parents that love us so dear.
AMY Z. PORTER
A MOTHER'S CARE
Dear ones, now you are not with me,
I am all the time thinking of you,
And wondering over and over
Will my children be honest and true.
Will they be faithful and true to the gospel
And remember the Lord day by day,
Or will they grow wild and reckless
And never remember to pray?
Will they treat as a small thing the gospel,
Those principles sacred and pure,
If we keep all the laws that it teaches,
Salvation is certainly sure.
Will they seek for the evil and sinful,
Or live for the promise given,
Children born under the covenant
And heirs to the Kingdom of Heaven?
Will they remember their mother's wise counsel
Who has ever taught them words of truth,
And said "My dear children, be faithful,
And remember the Lord in your youth."
My dears, if you knew all my feelings,
How anxious my heart is for you,
You would shun all that's evil and sinful,
And seek but the just and the true.
If you knew the fond heart of your mother,
And could hear how for you she does pray,
You would cause her not one pang of sorrow,
Or shorten her life for a day.
A.Z.P.
SHOALS AHEAD
Though the sun be shining bright and warm,
And soft blue is the sky,
We are sure to run into the shoals,
We cannot pass them by.
The road may look to us quite smooth,
We see no danger nigh,
We are sure to run into the shoals;
We cannot pass them by.
Though we be blest with health and wealth,
And treasures heaped up high,
We are sure to run into the shoals;
We cannot pass them by.
We may seek the pleasures of the world,
That please the heart and eye;
We are sure to run into the shoals;
We cannot pass them by.
A.Z.P.
OUR MOTHER
Our mother is as pure as a snowdrop,
Ad fair as the flowers in the dell,
So loving, so kind, and so gentle,
There's none can our mother excel.
AMY Z. PORTER
OUR BABY
God sent me down from Heaven above,
To grace this world of ours,
He gave me eyes so soft and blue,
More lovely than the flowers.
And little cheeks so round and soft,
Like folds of creamy silk,
He had my food ready prepared,
The sweetest kind of milk.
He gave to me a perfect form,
With members all complete,
A mouth just like an opening rose,
Yet many times more sweet.
He gave to me a hearty voice,
That flies the midnight air,
Ma says no voice was e'er so sweet
Or babe on half so fair.
AMY Z. PORTER
ONE SHEPHERD AND ONE FOLD
When Christ comes on the earth to reign,
He will cleanse the world from bolt or stain,
Hatred and envy then will cease,
Until then, there will be no time of peace.
Peace is taken from our shore,
And will return to it no more,
Until He, whose right it is to reign,
Shall come to dwell on earth again.
The tares that now in boundless bound,
Will then be burned into the ground,
To the gleaners the wheat will be gathered in,
By fire, He will cleanse the world from sin.
The pure in heart from every land,
Shall then set down at His right hand,
Satan's power comes not again,
When Christ shall come on earth to reign.
The world is drunken with much sin,
The time of cleansing must begin,
From out the dross, He will take the gold,
There will be one Shepherd and one fold.
AMY Z. PORTER
OUR MOTHER
O Father in Heaven, how truly I thank thee,
For the kind loving mother you gave unto me,
A model of duty was this dear mother,
And sweet were the lessons we learned at her knee.
A dear guardian angel that ever stood near us,
And ceased not her vigil by day or by night,
But earnestly prayed to her Father in Heaven,
To give her the wisdom to lead them aright.
She taught us the Gospel as given by Jesus,
And taught us to love in principles sweet,
How to be virtuous, truthful, and honest,
And watch for the snares that are laid at our feet.
The songs of her heart like the sweet songs of David,
Had power to sooth our spirits to rest,
Sweet was our slumber while yet she stood near
Or lulled us to sleep on her dear loving breast.
Sharp thorns and thistles were strewn on her pathway,
And often did pierce till her tender flesh bled
Still she pressed onward not murmuring or complaining,
With hope as a bright star e'er leading ahead.
O mother, if e'er we have given thee sorrow,
Or caused thy dear heart one throb of pain,
Forgive, O forgive the mistakes of thy children,
And welcome us all to thy home once again.
A.Z.P.
OUR DEBT
We owe to our parents to honor and love,
Next to our Father who dwells up above,
He gives us life; they give the rest;
Now don't you think we should love Him the Best?
Our parents give us an abiding, true love
This they receive from their Father above,
To save their children, their lives they would give,
Christ gave His life that all men might live.
We're settling accounts all the way through,
You raised your children; your parents raised you,
Thus we pay debts; for all suffer pain,
Thus adding new links to the great family chain.
Amy Z. Porter
OUR BUTCHER
Talk of butchers and first class meat,
Juicy and tender, fresh and sweet,
Our husbands would neither scold or frown,
If we'd buy our meat from Butcher Brown
He has the choicest kinds of meat,
Any thing you fancy you'd like to eat,
There'd be no scolding wives in town,
If we'd buy our meat from Butcher Brown.
O how it makes the children grown,
The sing, they shout, they laugh, the crow,
Their eye grow bright, their cheeks grow round,
When you buy your meat from Butcher Brown.
And the butcher is neat and trim,
No butcher in town can out shine him,
He looks the gentleman from foot to crown,
He beats them all, does butcher Brown.
A.Z.P.
CHRISTMAS
Christmas is here with Christmas cheer,
With joyous happy greeting,
See the toys the girls and boys
That Santa has been treating.
He's brought a ball for little Dick,
A rattle for the baby,
A doll that opens and shuts its eyes,
For darling little Daisy.
With many gifts and dainties, too,
With tops and books a plenty,
And all received remembrances kind
From one year up to twenty.
A.Z.P.
WHERE HAVE THEY GONE
Where have the children gone away,
I cannot hear them at their play,
Their merry voices, and laughter sweet,
Or patter of their childish feet.
No more they gather around my knee,
And whisper word of love to me,
O'er kneel down by knees and pray,
They all have from me gone away.
No more they call, Where is mother dear,
It isn't home she's not here,
She's the sunshine of our home each day,
It's sad and lonely when she's away.
Do they think of mother's anxious care.
And of her ever humble prayer,
How she prayer to God each day,
To guide our feet in a narrow way.
A.Z.P.
WHERE HAVE THYE GONE
Where have the children gone away,
I cannot heat them at their play,
Their merry voices, and laughter sweet,
Or patter of their childish feet.
No more they gather around my knee,
And whisper words of love to me,
O'er kneel down by my knees and pray,
They all have from me gone away.
No more they call, where is mother dear,
It isn't home when she's not here,
She's the sunshine of our home each day,
It's sad and lonely when she's away.
Do they think of mother's anxious care,
And of her ever humble prayer,
How she prayed to God each day,
To guide our feet in a narrow way.
A.Z.P.
WHAT IS HIS NAME
There is a man at the present time,
You know his name full well,
He has changed the world from a friendly place,
Into a very Hell.
He has caused the death and misery
Of many of the human race,
When Christ came down to judge us all,
I would not take his place.
He has hoarded up much money,
'Tis that he loves so well,
'Twas that, that caused the rich man
To lift up his eyes in Hell.
When Christ come to make up jewels,
Where can they be found,
Can He find them some place on earth,
Or are they underground?
AMY Z. PORTER
WHEN LIFE'S CARES ARE OVER
Sad feelings pass o'er us as often we ponder
Of those that were once, but are with us no more
Say, are they patiently waiting to meet us
When life's care and sorrows forever are o'er.
Then will we dwell in their joyous presence,
Who gladdened our hearts in the sweet days of yore,
Will our hearts yearn for the ones that have loved us,
When life's cares and sorrows forever are o'er.
Will joy and sorrow so sweetly commingle,
Will the cup of our happiness be brimming o'er,
Will we rejoice in the things God has given
When life's cares and sorrows forever are o'er.
Then will we know God's wisdom in giving
Troubles and trials hard to be born,
Then we will know as we're know of the Father,
When life's cares and sorrows forever are o'er.
Will hearts be united that here have been served
And likes that are broken be binding once more,
Will we forgive and we hope for forgiveness
When life's cares and sorrows forever are o'er.
May our hearts be as pure as the gold in the furnace,
That's tried by the fire several time o'er,
That we may be worthy to dwell in His presence
When life's cares and sorrows forever are o'er.
AMY Z. PORTER
WHERE'S PAPA?
Where has papa gone, dear mother?
Will he come to us no more?
Shall we no more hear the coming
Of his footsteps to the door?
CHORUS:
Oh, the sound was sweetest music,
I can hear it o'er and o'er,
Shall we no more hear the coming
Of his footsteps to the door?
How he labored for our comfort,
His presence was so dear to me,
How my heart swelled up with gladness
While he held me on his knee.
AMY Z. PORTER
A DREARY PLACE
NOVEMBER, 17, 1912
PART 1
O, this horrid dreadful country,
Where of late we come to swell,
I really believe we've entered
O'er the border line to hell.
It rains and snows continuously
With scarce a single stop,
We cannot seed the meadow down
Or gather in the crops.
The mud and snow is ankle deep,
The grain not in the stack,
I almost feel like turning around
And taken the backward track.
Our home was in a sunny land
Among the fruit and flowers
Where we could rest our tired limbs
In nature's fairest bowers.
Here we may toil from morn to night
Till our tired limbs feel old.
There's nothing here to warm the heart,
It is always bitter cold.
O, give us back the dear old days,
Where in sunshine we did dwell,
I do not like this cold drear place,
O'er on the border line to hell.
A DREARY PLACE
PART 2
O, this horrid dreadful country,
It does nothing else but blow,
We cannot find our way about
For the blinding drifting snow.
It howls and screeches day and night,
Like demons in their cell,
I know that we have entered
O'er the border line to Hell.
The cattle stand with stiffening limbs
All white with frozen breath,
The fox tail hay they're feeding on
Is choking them to death.
The coyote and the gray wolf howl
No more the birds do sing,
For even the woodchuck and the owl
Are frozen on the wing.
The sun looks down on the frozen earth,
No warmth in her wintry breath,
But for the greasewood and the sage
We would all freeze plumb to death.
O, give us back the dear old days,
Where in sunshine we did dwell,
I do not like this cold, dreary place
O'er the border line to Hell.
A DREARY PLACE
PART 3 AUGUST 17, 1913
Sunny days in this place
Are coming rather slow,
The hay is but a poor crop,
The grain forgets to grow.
The ground dogs take the garden surf,
They mow it to the ground,
A country worse than this one
On earth could not be found.
No vegetables nor fruit grow here,
For which our stomachs crave,
It freezes ice most every night,
'Tis colder than the grave.
Honest men are very few,
That walk those muddy streets,
They make us pay a double price
For everything we eat.
Groceries and dry goods are high,
And everything, they say,
But hay and grain is very low
When we come our bills to pay.
The poor must either steel or starve,
Now which is the wise plan,
To get right in the swing with them,
Or die an honest man.
The blacksmith's working in his shop,
The farmer's hauling hay,
The boys are racing down the street,
Though 'tis the Sabbath Day.
O give us back the dear, sweet days
Where in peace we once did dwell,
I do not like this horrid place,
It's ten times worse than Hell.
A.Z.P.
WHICH TO SAVE
Throw the life preserver, Captain,
To the child within the wave,
Don't let one so young and tender
Sink into a watery grave.
Hasten ere the waves roll o'er her,
Save her for a better fate,
For from her might spring a nation
Of the noble and the great.
If the man that's strong and ruddy
Strong to battle with the tide,
Cannot make the ship, don't save him,
He's better on the other side.
And the women that has traveled
From early morn to set of sun,
We will all think of her kindly
For the good that she has done.
She is old, her youth has vanished.
She is wandering near the grave;
Let her fold her hands in silence
For there's peace beneath the wave.
A.Z.P.
WHY DOUBT
We have something to live for and something to die for,
Something to hope for and something to try for,
There is someone in Heaven we hope to meet,
And someone on earth just as pure and as sweet.
Someone to guide with choicest care,
Someone to meet and welcome us there,
God in His wisdom our treasures divide,
It is wisdom in Him that all should be tried.
It should make us try harder to live near to God,
And cling all the closer to the straight iron rod,
It will lead us straight back to our home up above,
Where we'll find our lost friends and the ones we love.
There our lost treasures never will stray,
In paths that' re forbidden or go the wrong way,
They have returned to their Father with souls without stain,
It is all up to us if we meet them again.
Why doubt the Creator, our God and great head,
All that are now living will someday be dead,
Those that die are the most blessed.
While we dwell here in sorrow, their souls are at rest.
AMY Z. PORTER
WHERE IS FATHER?
Where is that Father, good and kind,
We hear so much about,
Does He always stay inside the house
And never once look out?
We keep on knocking at his door,
Expecting to be heard,
He doesn't make the slightest sound
Or speak a single word.
He must be on a journey now,
Or busy playing golf,
Or he would sometimes say, "Come in",
Or tell us to be off.
We've had a glorious, happy time
And never thought to pray,
Now that His help is needed
We find He is far away.
He will not hear our pleading,
Or even on us smile,
The wealth He gave, we squandered
For pleasure and for style.
Let us learn to be more wise
And not forget to pay,
Then when we speak His favors
He'll not be far away.
AMY Z. PORTER
WHEN WILL IT BE
O lord, When will thine angel sound
His trumpet long and loud,
'Till every man on earth can hear
Like thunder from a cloud?
And shake the earth in anger fierce,
'Till not a soul can stand,
In thy fierce anger Thou wilt smite
The wicked with thy hand.
In meekness every knee shall bow,
And every tongue shall say,
'Tis Christ, the redeemer of the world,
The straight and narrow way."
He'll cleanse the world form every sin,
And Zion spread afar;
He'll be our ruler and our King,
The bright and morning star.
Oct, 1923
WHO CAN TELL
They tell us we must choose the wise,
The learned and the great,
To run the affairs of our country,
The nation and the state.
Then tell us, Heavenly Father,
Where these wise men can be found,
The world is having a glorious time
On the Devil's Merry-go-round.
They are going faster and faster,
With sins their bosoms swell,
They do not know these very things
Are taking them to hell.
God loves the meek and humble,
The poor, he does not despise,
He says, "The weak things of the earth
Shall not confound the wise."
Then tell us, Heavenly Father,
Who are the wise today,
Those who seek their wisdom from on high,
Or by some other way?
Amy Z. Porter
THE FLOWER FOR ME
Give me flowers of noble deeds,
Of human love and kindness,
These are the flowers that reacheth out
And leadeth those in blindness.
Give me flowers of a kindly word,
To the unfortunate and the lonely,
These are the flowers to cultivate,
Although they grow but slowly.
Give me the flowers of truth and right,
Of love for one another,
Give me the flowers of kindly words
For sister and for brother.
Give me the flowers of work well done,
Of faithfully performing duty,
These are the flowers that never fade,
And fill the world with beauty.
Give me the flowers of a silent prayer,
For me in all my sorrow;
These are the flowers that give me strength,
And courage for tomorrow.
Give me the flowers I dearly love,
While yet I have my reason;
These are the flowers that strive and grow
In any time or season.
Give me the flowers of kindly care,
And love for father and mother,
These are the flowers that smooth my path
From this world to the other.
Amy Z. Porter
DO YOU THINK OF MOTHER?
Do you ever think of mother
With her heart so full of care,
Ever anxious for her children,
Always wondering where they are.
Do you ever think of mother,
Watching, waiting day by day,
For a message from her dear ones
That have gone from her away.
Do you ever think of mother
Kneeling by her bed to pray,
For the Lord to keep them ever
In the straight and narrow way.
Do you ever think of mother
Now that she is growing old,
Has the love you once had for her
On your hearts forever grown cold.
Let me have a few lines from you,
Let me hear that you are well,
All the joy those words would bring me,
There is none would ever tell.
Amy Z. Porter
TO MY WIFE
Dearest wife thou art kind and gentle,
Sweet and tender as a rose,
All the joy your presence brings me
None but your husband knows.
Fairer than the flowers of Eden,
True and constant as the light,
If deprived of your sweet presence
Life would be a dreary night.
You have made our home an Eden,
Sweet to me as Heaven above,
Can a man do aught that's evil
With so true a heart to love.
So I'll cherish you, My darling,
Keep you safe from every ill,
And I pray that God will keep me,
Safe with you on Zion's hill.
That the same bright beam of beauty
May my heavenly home adorn,
And your dear face bid me welcome
On the resurrection morn.
Amy Z. Porter
A MESSAGE OF PEACE
O mother I know your dear heart is broken
Be not bowed with sorrow and pain,
Now I am free from suffering and sorrow,
We will surely meet up in Heaven again.
My life work was ended and God called me homeward
To labor with loved ones in Heaven once more;
Would you repine that I have thus favored,
And called to my earthly home on eternity's shore.
No more pain and suffering for me, 'tis all over,
But joy and love and peace ever more;
Mother, I know you would not recall me
To dwell here in sorrow on earth's stormy shore.
A few short years only then seek and you'll find me
The way is made easy; the path is straight,
The savior has made the path easy to walk in;
Then meet me, dear Mother, at Heavens bright gate.
Your tears are useless remember, dear Mother,
That God only lent me a short time to you;
Then called me forever to dwell in His presence,
As soon as earth my short mission was through.
Think of me, Mother, In God's Gold Kingdom,
Where suffering and sorrow forever is o'er;
Where the bitter and sweet no more are mingled,
And sighing and sorrow are heard never more.
Your heart will be lonely and sad for a reason
Thy Father in Heaven will lighten thy pain,
Then seek of Him often I as it, dear Mother,
That we be reunited in Heaven again.
You know that I love you, then come where I'm dwelling,
That the joy of my heart may be full and complete,
For Mother, you know my heart will be saddened
Until I and my loved ones in Heaven meet.
A SAD HEART
My heart is sad and lonely now,
It has been the same all day,
My mind seems not at home, you know
But wandering far away.
It wanders to a mountainside,
Where stands a running mill,
Where laborers to their work are called
By the whistle loud and shrill.
Where sturdy men and maidens fair
Meander by the stream,
Or watch from the old engine mouth,
The jets of smoke and steam.
There I can see two noble sons
With hearts so kind and true,
And two sweet daughters pure and fair
As anyone e'er knew.
I see them at their work and play,
And hours of merry glee;
Well I know where e'er they are
They fondly think of me.
Then wanders farther still my mind,
To a brighter happier home,
Where little children sweet and fair
Play around the Saviors throne.
There I can see three angels bright
With silk and sunny hair,
Oh how I weep and mourn for them
Though I know they're safely there.
Then I wander all around
To all that I love dear,
And feels to thank The God above
For all that I have here.
May our Heavenly Father watch o'er each,
And bring them safely home,
And be with them in all they do
And where e'er they chance to roam.
A.Z.P.
CHARITY
A charitable disposition,
Who can tell all it implies?
And the heart that told the treasure
Is like sunshine from the skies.
Sunshine sweet that softly enters
Even the prisoners' gloomy cell,
Scattering from their hearts the shadows,
And with hope their dispel.
Ever smiling on the weary,
And the poor are blest by these
The sorrowing truly find a comfort
In the many offerings free.
Sin and evil find a solace
In thy ever humble prayer,
Every heart is nobler, better,
When sweet charity is there.
Charity for all God's creatures,
And for all that He does love,
Brings a blessing to the giver
In the smiles of God above.
Many hearts are dead of pity,
Have no sympathy for grief,
For the erring have no counsel
For the suffering no relief.
Sweet charity has no place in them,
But to self-their hearts are given,
Such on earth will find no Friendship,
And no home with God in Heaven.
Perfect love for all God's children
Help to make this life more sweet,
Loving words and kindly actions
Maketh friends of all we meet.
And sounding brass or tinkling symbols
Are all else that we can give,
We would love as Jesus loveth,
That our souls in Christ may live.
A.Z.P.
OUR MOTHER
O Father in Heaven, how truly I thank thee,
For the kind loving Mother you gave unto me,
A model of duty was this dear mother,
And sweet were the lessons we learned at her knee.
A dear guardian angel that ever stood near us,
And ceased not her vigil by day or by night,
But earnestly prayed to her Father in Heaven
To give her the wisdom to lead them aright.
She taught us the Gospel as given by Jesus,
And taught us to love in principles sweet,
How to be virtuous, truthful, and honest,
And watch for the snares that are laid at our feet.
The songs of her heart like the sweet songs of David,
Had power to sooth our spirits to rest,
Sweet was our slumber while yet she stood near us
Or lulled us to sleep on her dear loving breast.
Sharp thorns and thistles were strewn on her pathway,
And often did pierce till her tender flesh bled,
Still she pressed onward not murmuring or complaining,
With hope as a bright star e'er leading ahead.
O Mother, if e'er we have given thee sorrow,
Or caused thy dear heart one throb of deep pain
Forgive, O forgive the mistakes of thy children,
And welcome us all to thy home once again.
AMY ZENORA PORTER
THE REJECTED STONE
The stone the builders rejected spurned and displeased,
Thinking themselves so noble and wise,
God smiled down upon it and called it His own,
The stone they rejected was the head corner stone.
Those self-exalted people so full of conceit,
Fear contamination by the friends that they meet,
Should dwell on an earth by themselves all alone
The stone they rejected was the head corner stone.
The man that went out on the corner to pray,
Said, "Oh, God, I am thankful I'm better than they."
The Savior condemned him and left him alone,
The stone they rejected was the head corner stone.
The meek and the humble, God loveth, I know,
We find the rejected wherever we go,
Reject and be glad for God calls them His own,
The stone they rejected was the head corner stone.
A.Z.P.
OPEN YOUR HEARTS TO THE CHILDREN
Open your hearts to the children,
Gather them up snug and warm,
Oh Father that we might thus keep them
Away from life's sorrow and storm.
Open your hearts to the children,
Those jewels that Father has given,
Without then there is nothing to live for,
No joy on earth or in Heaven.
Open you hearts to the children,
Nor turn them away from your door,
Soon, oh too soon, they may leave you,
And you see their dear face no more.
Open your hearts to the children,
Nor leave them out in the cold,
The love of your child is a jewel,
More precious that silver or gold.
.
Open your hearts to the children,
Keep them home circle complete,
Seek wisdom from God, He will give it,
Yes, earnestly plead at His feet.
Open your hearts to the children,
Gather them close to your breast,
When they have wandered far from you,
The heart knows no joy or rest.
Open your hearts to the children,
As is always your duty to do,
Deal with them as you would ever
Your Father would do unto you.
Open your hearts to the children,
As the warmth of the bright sun above,
And the peace of your home will be perfect,
In the joy of your own children's live.
Open your hearts to the children,
Make their hearts happy and free,
That you may say, "Father, I've loved them
With the love I desire from thee."
For many a dear one has wandered
And been lost in the vortex of sin,
Because the cold hearts of his parents
Were tightly closed up against him.
Open your hearts wide and keep them
From the evils that are found by the way,
That "Well Done' may be said by the Master
In the great and last Judgment Day.
A.Z.P
CANNOT FORGET
Could the sun above forget to shine,
Or the rain forget to fall,
Or God forget to send His gifts,
And His blessings to us all?
Could the little flower forget to bloom,
Or the bird forget her young,
Or could a mother e'er forget
Her children? No. Not one.
Where're they are on land or sea,
Or on the desert wild,
The anxious mother's loving heart
Is praying for her child.
So when you think of mother dear,
You know her heart is true,
And one that never could forget
A darling boy like you.
A.Z.P.
BROKEN TIES
God plants flowers fair and lovely
In the garden of the earth,
All men chose for their keeping,
Those they think the greatest worth.
Many live and live together,
Though the trying years of life
In old age you still will find them
Faithful, loving man and wife.
There are many, oh, how many
That part never to meet again,
With no hopes of a reunion
Of the welding of the chain.
God calls many back to Heaven,
For a purpose of His own,
He will keep them safely for you
In your future heavenly home.
You will find them anxiously waiting
For your coming home to stay,
"Welcome home, we will part no more,"
Are the joyous words they'll say.
Anxiously they'll watch your footsteps,
That you have made no mistake,
For if you should meet them never
Then in grief their hearts must break.
Then be patient and be faithful
For God doeth all things well.
All the joy that there awaits you,
There is none but God can tell.
A.Z.P.
CALLED TO WANDER
Far over the ocean they call thee to wander,
To a far distant land among strangers to roam,
Your friends and loved ones and Saints left behind you,
Do constantly pray for your safe return home.
They pray for your welfare, your peace and your safety,
That you may be free from sickness or pain;
Should feelings of sadness afflict or oppress you,
That His spirit be given like sunshine in rain.
When storm clouds rise o'er you and look dark and threatening,
And loud peals of thunder thy spirit should wail,
Remember the Lord will protect you,
The prayer of the humble has never yet failed.
You will rejoice in the fruit of your labors,
The thought of your mission will give you no pain,
We will rejoice when we hear the glad tidings that
---------------has retirred to his home once again.
AMY Z. PORTER
CHRISTMAS GREETING
A merry Christmas, children dear,
Welcome home for Christmas cheer,
Share each other Christmas joys-
You are still our girl and boy.
Time is fleeting and must pass;
See the leaves and blades of grass,
How in time they fade and fall,
It is the destiny of all.
So love each other, children dear,
Share each other's joys and tears,
Treat each other kind and true,
As we've always treated you.
As your children around you grow
Seed of truth and virtue;
Let good works around them shine,
Teach them Gospel truths divine.
May sin and sorrow never come
To cast a shadow around your homes,
God bless you all, my children dear,
And Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
A.Z.P.
CHRISTMAS 1860
In Eighteen Sixty there did live
A staunch and sturdy pioneer,
He made his home by the mountain side
In a canyon dense and drear.
The tall pines stood like sentinels
With branches spreading wide,
In which the woodchuck built her nest
And the squirrels loved to hide.
No holly with her berries red
In that wild place could grow,
Nor was there seen the charming green
Of the pretty mistletoe.
No turkeys roosted in his shed,
No apples red and round,
Nor other Christmas delicacies
In that humble home was found.
On Christmas Eve the lowering clouds
Told that a storm was near,
The little children's' hearts grew sad,
Their eyes filled with tears.
The feathery snow fell thick and fast,
And the cold wind did blow,
They feared if Santa ventured out
He would perish in the snow.
The father told of the dear Christ Child,
And other Christmas lore,
No stocking hung by the chimney there
For they were very poor.
Then kneeling by their mothers' knee,
By the wood fire's warmth and glow,
They prayed that God would safely guide
Dear Santa through the snow.
Then fell asleep with perfect trust,
And awoke in the early morn
To find that Santa had not come,
Nor had missed them in the storm.
No tinkling bells or reindeers' hoofs
Their peaceful slumbers stirred,
Their mothers' "Merry Christmas, dears,"
Was the only sound they heard.
The Christmas spirit filled their hearts,
Although no books and toys,
Had found their way to the humble home
Of those pioneer girls and boys.
The storm had ceased; the sky had cleared,
The sun rose bright and warm,
The smooth white earth was all that told
Of last night's wind and storm.
The bowed in prayer at the morning meal,
Then ate their humble fare,
And children - like forgave the Saint
And said they did not care.
With home-made caps and mittens on,
They hastened out to play,
And coasted down the smooth hillside
The whole of the livelong day.
They play their games and parched their corn
In a glow of perfect health,
They'd had a happier Christmas time
Than many a child of wealth.
A.Z.P.
SYMPATHY
We sympathize with you most deeply,
For the loss of one so dear,
As a husband kind and loving,
True to you so many years.
Oh sad must be the parting
When two hearts are joined for life,
When the hand of death divides them,
There's no husband, and no wife.
He was kind to you and faithful,
You can be to him a friend,
Have the bond between you lengthened,
Through the years that have no end.
Pray to God for light and wisdom,
Listen to his loving words,
It is most precious, and the sweetest,
Man or women ever heard.
Seek the gospel taught by Jesus,
It will give you loving bread,
You can do work most truly
For those living and the dead.
Oh the Gospel sound so glorious,
From its truth I can not part,
It will calm the troubled spirit
And will soothe the aching heart.
Amy Zenora Porter
SWEET HOME
There stands a cozy cottage,
In the tall trees ample shade,
Where sweet flowers grow and blossom,
Lovely things that God has made.
In that earthly Heaven,
Dwells a women bent and old,
Though her dwelling place is humble,
Still she has a heart of gold.
A heart that's full of pity,
To the suffering of mankind,
Ever ready to be friendly,
Friends like her are hard to find.
As humble as the violet,
Growing in the woody dell.
Ever seeking for the guidance,
Of him that doeth all things well.
Dear friends, I will e'er remember,
All your kindness unto me,
And will forget the talks
In the shade of the apple tree.
A.Z.P.
ALL ALONE TODAY
I'm all-alone today,
The children are all away;
Some to their labors gone
Others are at play.
One by one they are leaving me,
For homes to their hearts more fair;
Leaving the shelter of mothers' love,
For a life of worry and care.
For a brighter home than their childhood's',
God grants it may be so;
A purer love than mother's love
Their hearts will never know.
We paint bright pictures in our youth,
The shadows come each day,
And when the years have come and gone
Like shadows they've fled away.
My children have been my greatest joy
As well as constant care,
A dreary place this world would be
Without those jewels rare.
I have tried to lead them right,
With the help of God alone;
Bitter have been the tears I've shed
When like the birds from the nest they've flown.
The tears run down my faded cheek
As I review the past,
Will my life like the poet says,
Be brightest at the least?
Still I will not murmur now,
O'er trails that I have passed,
Or sight for pleasures I never knew
To fleeting for the last.
A.Z.P.
JUST JUDGE
When Christ comes down to judge the world,
What things He will reveal,
When that great book is opened,
That is sealed with seven seals.
The good and evil acts of all men
Will then be on display,
Each will realize his worth
On that great judgement day.
All will be judged for the good and bad,
And rewarded for the same,
Some to eternal happiness,
And other's to endless shame.
The vain and the proud will be cast out,
The rich brought down as well,
They cannot enter the beautiful place
Where the meek and humble dwell.
Wealth is a destructive fire,
It destroys the souls of men,
Where God is, they cannot come,
Worlds without an end.
A.Z.P.
SISTER AND I
How are you now dear sister mine,
I think of you each day,
And never once forgot your name
While kneeling down to pray.
The thought of you brings memories sweet
Of childhood's happy years,
Our hearts were full of love and joy,
of sigh and tears.
We ran and romped on the green hillside,
And by the rippling rill;
We heard the owl from his craggy height
And the song of the whippoorwill.
And in the woodland's pleasant shade,
The air was cool and still;
We gathered from the mossy bank
The pretty daffodil.
Like flowers we grew up side by side,
Our home to us seems fair;
It was a dwelling place
Yet those we loved were there.
The hand of time has changed us two,
Our hearts are just as true,
Your own will tell you, sister dear,
How fondly I love you.
Grey hair adorns our temples now,
In the years that God has given,
What will our Fathers' greeting be,
When he calls us back to heaven.
May God be merciful to each
And lengthen out our days,
And may our hearts be ever filled
With songs of love and praise.
A.Z.P.
SMALL THINGS
The days of small things, would be wise,
The day of small things to neglect and despise,
It is the small things that always grow great,
If we will keep trying to be patient and wait.
A small little thought from the brain of wise men,
Has made ample work for the press and the pen.
Keep trying, be patient, try hard to be wise,
The day of small things don't neglect or despise.
For a very high mountain and river so grand
Was a clear drop of water or a small grain of sand.
Be faithful and fearless; in all things be wise,
The day of small things don't neglect or despise.
A.Z.P.
SOMEWHERE
In a few short years the active mind
Will have a time to rest,
I pray my soul will find a home
With the purest and the best.
And that the things I've learned so well
May be of use somewhere,
They seem of little worth to man;
They maybe useful there.
I then will know and understand
Why so great a gift was given,
I know the things we learn on earth
Will be with us in Heaven.
May my heart be filled with pure, sweet thoughts,
That will give no heart of pain,
Or plant one evil thought therein,
Or cause one soul a stain.
The thorny paths will then be smooth,
And strewn with lilies fair;
The broken heart no more will smart,
Or the soul be filled with care.
A.Z.P.
JUNE
'Tis June, the month of roses,
The air is fresh and sweet,
Behold the earth now in full dress
Her toilet is complete.
We see the fields of tender corn
Wave gently in the breeze,
And feel the cool and pleasant shade
Of the thickly foliaged trees.
We see the sturdy farmers work
In the gardens' even row,
Thanks to the showers of gentle may
Which makes them thrive and grow.
When June in all her beauty comes
With the glorious sun's bright ray,
Complete the toilet of the earth
And make it still more gay.
How fair the fields of grain and grass,
And flowers of every hue,
How sweet the air so rich perfumed
With rose and lily too.
Oh earth, thou art exceeding fair
In all thy beauty dressed,
Of all the months the seasons being
Dear June, I loved thee best.
A.Z.P.
A MID DAY DREAM
I woke from my slumbers mid day,
From a vision exceedingly fair,
'Twas the beautiful face of our mother,
'Twas the free from all sorrow and care.
Here eyes shone like stars in the evening,
The smile on her face was so fair;
There lingered not one trace of sorrow,
No silver threads in her dark hair.
She stood as anxiously waiting
For someone to come to her there,
She reached out her arms in fond greeting
As she saw someone ascending the stair.
I'll not mention the name of that person
There were many more on the track,
She turned with the one she had welcomed,
Nor once did I see her turn back.
The look on her face was so happy,
Her image so exceedingly fair,
She stood there in youth and in beauty,
In her face not a shadow of care.
I awoke from my slumber so happy,
The vision so fresh in my mind,
I know it will someday be witnessed
In Eternity, but never in time.
A.Z.P.
LIKE TO DRESS
I am the girl that likes to dress
To please myself you see,
I do not care how others dress;
It does not trouble me.
I like to have my hair combed up
So I can hear as well as see,
I do not care what others do;
It does not trouble me.
I like my neck and face kept clean,
From paint and powder free,
I do not care what others do;
It does not bother me.
I like to have my skirts come down
Twelve inches below the knee.
I do not care how others dress;
It does not trouble me.
I like low heels and roomy shoes,
That my movement may be free,
I do not care what others wear;
It does not bother me.
I like to spend my hard-earned cash
For useful things you see,
I do not care what others do;
It does not trouble me.
A.Z.P.
ALWAYS THE SAME
I sought my love in the early morn,
When the sun was on the hill.
I sought her in the evening time,
When the air was cool and still.
I sought her in the summer heat,
When the sun was high and warm,
She was always loving, kind and true,
In sunshine or in storm.
Many long years I've loved with her,
In joy grief and pain,
She has always been the same sweet girl;
I love her just the same.
A.Z.P.
A THANKFUL HEART
I thank our dear father in heaven
For the blessings he's given to me;
Although I am poor, I'm contented
And happy as happy can be.
The gifts I receive, they are many,
With treasures so rich and so rare,
I am often afraid I am not worthy
To receive so abundant a share.
While often I am looking around me
I feel I am blessed by the Lord,
I send up my thanks to His angels,
And always receive a reward.
For I feel His spirit is with me,
And thrills every chord in my heart,
With the peace and the joy it brings me
For treasures in gold I'd not part.
Oh, keep us from evil, dear Father,
And help us to do what is right,
That we may forever be grateful
Nor do aught amiss in thy sight.
A.Z.P.
A PRESENT
Accept of my present, dear mother,
Don't think it too humble and poor,
Gold I have not, my dear mother,
For love is the wealth of my store.
If treasures in gold I would send thee,
And my love from thee I would withhold,
You would sigh for the treasure, my mother,
More precious than silver and gold.
So accept of my dear little token,
I would gladly send to thee more,
But gold I have not, my dear mother,
For love is the wealth of my store.
Amy Zenora Porter
A THANK FUL HEART
I think you dear Father in Heaven
For the blessings He's given to me;
Although I am poor, I'm contented
And happy as happy can be.
The gifts I received they are many,
With treasures so rich and so rare,
I am often afraid I am not worthy
To receive so abundant a share.
While often I am looking around me
I feel I am blessed by the Lord,
I send up my thanks by His angels,
And always receive a reward.
For I feel that His spirit is with me
And thrills every chord in my heart
With the peace and the joy that it brings me
For treasures in gold I'd not part.
Oh, keep us from evil, dear Father,
And help us to do what is right,
That we may forever be grateful
Nor do aught amiss in thy sight.
AMY Z. PORTER
AUGUST 10, 1923
A DREAM
I saw ten thousand angels hastening through the sky,
They all wore "Flapper "garments;
They would not let them by,
"We have no use for Flappers here;
Our ladies all are neat.
Their garments and clothing cover them from
Their head down to their feet.
Their feet and legs are covered;
Their bosoms are not bare,
They have no powder on their face,
Or frizzles in their hair.
This is the beautiful dwelling place
Of the Father and the Son
Into their royal presence
The Flappers cannot come.
There is a place prepared for them,
Where they will have to stay;
Then trouble us no more, please,
But go right on your way,"
A.Z.P.
ADVERSE STORMS
The adverse winds of sorrow
That causes such bitter strife,
Are the storms that are ever brewing
Between a man and wife.
The storms that rob the fireside
Of the sweetest joys of life,
Are the storms of constant nagging
Between a man and wife.
Oh, God, teach them their duty;
The blessed Savior said,
"No man shall put asunder
The couple that are wed."
Patience and forbearance
Should be their task through life.
And they should live together
As becomes a man and wife.
A.Z.P.
NATURE
The fairest flowers that bloom,
The leaflet large or small,
The tall trees in their beauty,
We know must fade and fall.
And every living creature,
The fowls or beasts of prey,
The strongest and the weakest,
In time must pass away.
And all God has created
For mortals here below,
Remaineth for a season
Then fadeth like the snow.
Every man and woman,
The children at their play,
So full of fun, and frolic
Alike must pass away.
Oh whether we are going,
No mortal tongue can tell,
But God the Great Creator
Knoweth very well.
Man waketh by the light of day
With firm and steady tread,
But all is dark and dreary
While looking at the dead.
We know not whence the spirit come
Or weather it has flown,
All that here remaineth
Is worthless flesh and bone.
And yet the spirit tells us,
God grant it may me right,
That death is but the awakening
From darkness into light.
And that the soul still liveth
Eternally in Heaven,
If we have kept here faithfully
The laws that God has given.
Oh what a glorious future
A happy change 'twill be,
To dwell eternally with God,
From sin and sorrow free.
AMY Z. PORTER
WHAT AMARICA SAW
The Kaiser came to my open door
With proud and haughty are,
He stood up straight before me
As I set in my easy chair.
I said, "You are intruding, sir,"
He stepped nearer to my side,
And said, "Before I leave this place,
I'll claim you for my bride,"
"While there's a God in Heaven,
You will not on your life,
No such man will have a chance
To claim me for his wife."
His face was flushed with anger,
He stood close to my chair,
And said, "You see how strong I am,
I'll force you to submit."
I turned my eyes toward him,
He had grown to an awful size,
His nostrils were like ferryboats,
With cannon balls for eyes.
I said, "You hideous monster,
With sin you're stuffed chuck full,"
His breath was like burning brimstone,
His voice like an angry bull.
I pushed him from beside me,
And stood on the sunlight fair,
And saw him slowly fading,
'Till he vanished into thin air.
"So Mr. Kaiser, don't puff up
And think there's none but you,
When you force me to submit
You'll have some work to do.
I'll tell you and I know 'tis true,
I treat all people fair,
You and your high flown ideas,
Will soon vanish into thin air.
The stench from your corruption
Will reach up to the skies,
The ravens and the hungry wolves
Will turn and pass you by.
There's a pit prepared for you,
With Satan at the door,
He will put you in the bind and fast
You will trouble earth no more.
So forsake your sins and turn to God,
Before it is too late,
To spend Eternity in Hell
Would be a dreadful fate.
A.Z.P.
A FRIEND IN NEED
"Come and take a walk with me",
Said Roosevelt one day,
"I am going to see a dear old friend
She lives not far away."
"She is as dear and true as a soul
As the good Lord ever made,
I see her now by the open door,
Sitting in the shade."
"Her hair is white as winter snow,
She cannot read or write,
The poor afflicted one,
Has entirely lost her sight."
"I love to cheer her lonely life,
And make it seem less drear,
I will miss these pleasant morning walks,
When she is no longer here."
" I sweep and dust her room for her
To make her life more sweet,
And often start the kitchen fire,
And prepare her food to eat!"
"She says that the world is a dreary place
Now that she cannot see.
She hopes the Lord will soon send down
And set her spirit free.
I hope to be as true a Saint
And live as nearly right,
Oh may God be kind to me
And let me have my sight.
A.Z.P.
A BLACK SHEEP
A black sheep, a black sheep, O horror and shame,
To dwell among men with a black tarnished name,
The sun hides his face and good angels weep,
To know there is such a thoroughly black sheep.
God smites the black sheep with lightning's rod.
They have not a friend with man or with God.
For Satan stands near them their dark souls to keep.
He leads to perdition the thoroughly black sheep.
God pity the soul that is so depraved,
It will sink out of sight in a dishonored grave,
With no one to love him or kind friends to weep,
The loss of the world of the thoroughly black sheep.
A.Z.P.
GOD'S LOVE
The love of God extends to all,
His mercies can't be told,
The portion each receives of them,
Are truly many fold.
A.Z.P.
TIRED MOTHER
Sister, you are growing weary,
On the battle field of strife,
For to be a wife and mother
Almost fills a woman's life.
There are so many cares and worries,
So many steps for tired feet,
If we seek for rest and pleasure
Other cares we're sure to meet.
And the frail from often trembles
With the weight of constant care;
Trembling limbs and throbbing temples
Tells when we have done our share.
And the mind and body weakens
As the moments by us spread,
Shattered nerves cry out in pity
For the rest they greatly need.
Well we know that constant friction
Wears away the strongest steel,
God alone can know and pity
All the tired mothers feel.
Lighten them your weight and worry,
Useless cares can be laid by,
We can make our lives more pleasant
And more happy if we try.
May God's spirit hover near you
Though the declining years of life.
For in faith you have tired to serve him
Loving mother, faithful wife.
AMY Z, PORTER
THOSE WE HONOR
Those we love to honor
Are those who are just and true,
Who labor for the good of all,
As honest hearts should do.
Who teach us all the way to live,
The aged and the youth,
By deeds of kindness and of love,
The Gospel's glorious truth.
Who prove their faithfulness to God
By honoring every call,
Whose lives of purity and love
Are lessons for us all.
Who live on earth as God designed,
To comfort and to bless,
To guard the feet of erring ones
And comfort the distressed.
All this was done by those dear ones
Who have labored here for years,
And never faltered from their task
Tho filled with care and fears.
Chosen and blessed by God above
To fill a noble part,
To succor the afflicted one
And soothe the broken heart.
The gift of love has been with them,
In answer to their prayer,
This is the heritage of all
Who seek their blessings there.
They have found a place in many them,
In answer to their prayer,
This is the heritage of all
Who seek their blessings there.
They have found a place in many hearts,
With gifts of love untold,
This is a treasure dearer far,
Than mines of purest gold.
Bright jewels too of untold wealth,
In many honest hearts,
That will bud and blossom like the rose,
Their blessings to impart.
Their works of love were seen by all,
To them honor is due,
May God keep us as He has them,
With hearts as warm and true.
May peace fill their declining years,
When their lives work here is o'er,
May holy angels lead them on
To eternity's bright shore.
There may they reunited be,
With those with whom they dwell
And receive the joy that is for all,
Who have done their duty well.
AMY Z. PORTER
UTAH, MY HOME
Utah, I love thee sweet land of my birth,
The beautiful home of the free,
The fields, and flowers, the sunshine and showers,
Utah, my home, I love thee.
I love the cool glade, where in childhood I play,
Where the clear water runs pure and free,
The tall swaying trees, the soft gentle breeze,
Utah, my home, I love thee.
I love thy rough hills, the brooks and thy rills,
They murmur to me,
As onward they stray like children at play,
Utah, my home, I love thee.
In eighteen fifty-two, God sent me to you,
With the dong of the bird and the bee,
In the tall stately pines with blossoms and vine
Utah, my home, I love thee.
In natures sweet bowers I grew with the flowers,
And roamed o'er the woodland and lea,
And breathed the pure air in thy sunshine so fair,
Utah, my home, I love thee.
Amy Z. Porter
TO MY WIFE
Dearest wife thou art kind and gentle,
Sweet and tender as a rose,
All the joy your presence brings me
None but your own husband knows.
Fairer than the flowers of Eden,
True constant as the light,
If deprived of your sweet presence
Life would be dreary night.
You have made our home an Eden,
Sweet to me as heaven above,
Can a man do aught that's evil
With so true a heart to love.
So I'll cherish you, darling,
Keep you safe from every ill.
And pray that God will keep me,
Safe with you on Zion's hill.
That the same bright beam of beauty
May my heavenly home adorn,
And your dear face bid me welcome
On the resurrection morn.
Amy Z. Porter
Bountiful, Utah
This poem was written for Raymond Pierotti and
Dedicated to his wife on Mother's Day 1927.
TRUE AND TRIED
Thou dear, true and tried, how fondly we love thee,
For thy kindness and love and works so divine,
Thy faith and prayers for the sick and the sorrowing;
Has crowned thee with laurels that will ever shine.
Faithfully filling the mission God gave thee,
Patiently casting the thorns from thy way,
Gathering blossoms whose beauty ne'er fadeth,
Scattering their fragrance along the way.
Thy trails have cleansed thy dear heart from all evil,
Thy patience has given thee strength to endure
Thy love like the dew or the spray from a fountain
Has gladdened the hearts of the humble and poor.
All thy ways have been pleasant and lovely,
All of the words cheering and sweet,
All of thy prayers for the sick and the suffering
Has been with a faith that was full and complete.
We know that God loves thee for thou hast been faithful,
In keeping the laws that to us have been given,
He will ever be near thee to the end of life's journey,
And give thee a glorious home up in heaven.
Amy Z. Porter
UNDER THE SHADOWS
Chicago, Chicago, your sorrows are great,
How deep thy losses and dreadful the fate,
Of the matron and maiden and children so fair,
That entered the hall and descended the stair.
To the chamber of death all glistening and bright,
The death angel pitied your dear one that night,
As he saw them ascending all blithesome and gay,
And knew of the part his own hand would play.
Like a bolt from the sky the dreadful blow fell,
The why and the wherefore no mortal can tell,
Oh, God up in heaven why must things be,
Yet Father we know the faults not with thee.
Weep on, of Chicago, let thy tears flow like rain,
It will soften the anguish and lighten the pain,
Of the sad hearts that will no more be made bright
By the presence of dear ones that were taken that night.
May the sad pall be lifted from that city, we pray,
May it be lightened and warmed by the gospels bright ray,
Look upward to Jesus and trust in His love
That you may dwell in His presence with your dear ones above.
TO THE GIRLS
Dear girls, I oft time wonder
What this life holds for you,
And pray like the lilies
It will be filled with Heaven's richest dew.
May your hearts be filled with gladness,
And no fierce storms may meet,
Though all must have the bitter
To appreciate the sweet.
May your path be strewn with roses
And lilies pure as snow,
And may it never lead you
Where thorns and thistles grow.
The Lord will guide your footsteps
If you trust in Him complete,
He will multiply the bitter
By sprinkling in the sweet.
The world is full of evil now,
Thee are more false hearts than true,
Then be wise in all your actions, girls,
And be careful what you do.
Amy Z. Porter
LOOK TO JESUS
While pondering in my bed at night
I heard a sweet voice say,
"Please awake and hear me;
There is something I would say."
I saw a white-robed figure
Stand close beside my bed,
A troubled look was on his face,
A crown was on his head.
He said, "You have been weeping
O'er trials hard to bear,
The Lord has heard your pleadings,
And you every anxious prayer."
"He knows all your afflictions,
The sharpness of your pain,
Look to Jesus, He will help you,
And do not weep again."
He turned as if departing,
I said, "Don't leave me now."
He stood again beside me
With his hand upon my brow.
He said, "They're are waiting for me,
There is much for me to do;
I came to cheer your loneliness,
And tell you what to do.
"The patriarchs have told you
Your last day would be your best,
And when your work was finished,
In God's kingdom you would rest.
"This seems to you but idle talk,
Their words you've learned to doubt.
The Father has all the power,
He'll clear the mystery out."
"There are many things you want to know,
Things that I cannot tell;
Dear sister put your trust in God,
He doeth all things well."
Amy Z. Porter
WOMEN OF TODAY
How dreadfully some things have changed
Since we were girls and boys,
When children were a blessing
And composed of household joys.
It isn't so in these days,
They bring far too much care,
They'd rather have a bull pup
Or perhaps a teddy bear.
When our fathers come from work,
Their hearts o'er flowed with joys,
When there come to meet them at the gate
Their pretty girls and boys.
When they heard their joyous welcome
It drove from them all care,
But now they meet the bull pup
Or perhaps the teddy bear.
Those women have so much of frets and fuss,
The care not for the joys,
That comes to every mother's heart
In the care of her girls and boys.
But they must have something to love,
And not a bit of care,
So now they pet the bull pup
And hold the teddy bear.
They powder; they paint and dress themselves
With silly fashions rare,
They live alone for dress and show
To the feet of men a snare.
But when old age comes creeping on,
And like babes they will them receive
From a bull pup and teddy bear.
Their hearts will yearn for the love and care
Of sons and daughters dear,
The thought of their useless wasted lives
Will cause them many a tear.
Then who will comfort their sad hearts,
When they leave this world of care,
For they'll find no place in Heaven
For the bull pup and teddy bear.
AMY Z. PORTER
WHAT DO YOU SAY?
Many say there is no God,
No Father full of love,
Whose dwelling place is on the earth
Nor in the Heavens above.
They say no man can know our thoughts,
And read our very mind,
To believe a thing so foolish
They must be very blind.
They say we pray to empty air,
Expecting to be heard,
As if the air could answer prayer,
The houseflies or the birds.
They say we live as nature lives,
When we die we are forever dead,
And like the grasses in the field,
There are others in our stead.
Their nature is the God they serve,
No matter what you do,
What sorrow you to others bring,
If it only pleases you.
Give us men with broader minds,
Who understand and know,
All will be rewarded for their works,
And gather what they sow.
Give us men who will confess
That all good comes from above,
And acknowledge Jesus is the Christ,
And God is a God of love.
AMY Z. PORTER
MY MOTHER
When first I opened my little eyes.
To see whom I could see,
I saw my darling mother
Looking down at me.
She stroked and kissed my little cheek,
Then cuddled me to rest,
Say, but I was happy
While slumbering on her breast.
She watched o'er me and prayed for me,
And cared for me each day,
My mother is the dearest thing
God ever sent this way.
She's fairer than the flowers of spring,
True and constant as the night,
A mother nobler, truer, better
Never shall behold the light.
AMY Z. PORTER
HARDING
Harding got the chair they say,
Can such a thing be true?
He will harden up the hard times now,
And tighten down the screw,
And all the poor Republicans
Will cry, "Stop Harding, do."
We voted for you Harding,
And gave to you the chair,
That you should be so selfish now,
We don't think hardly fair.
We would like a little money now,
And better clothes to wear.
We thought that you and tariff
Would bring is something sweet,
Now we have no money,
Our honest debts to meet.
All our little children
Are barefoot in the street.
If heaven will but forgive us,
The great mistake we have made,
We will shout "Harding, never"
Our motto will be "Free Trade."
For tariff to the poor man
Is like the furnace to the blade.
Then do be kind now Harding,
And let the money roll,
Your name shall then be shouted,
Till it reach from pole to pole.
May Heaven knock the tariff off,
So you will safely reach the goal,
And when you have safely landed,
Have mercy on your soul.
A.Z.P.
MABEY
Will the sunshine be the brighter now,
Or the old earth be more fair?
Will the bluebirds ' song be sweet and long
Now Mabey's in the chair?
Will pain and suffering come on more
To fill our hearts with care?
Will we find a better way to live
Now that Mabey's in the chair?
Will all his ways be just and right?
Will he our troubles share?
Will every heart be happier, now
That Mabey's in the chair?
Or will he scorn the poor and humble
Whose hearts are full of care?
And cast a shadow on their lives,
Now Mabey's in the chair?
Will the love of gold corrupt his soul
And leave no place for charity there?
Or will the world be better now
That Mabey's in the chair?
May the gift of love come from above
For God's children everywhere.
He made us all, both great and small,
Now Mabey's in the chair.
AMY Z. PORTER
DEMOCRATS
Where are all those boasters now
That fattened up their hogs,
They want to get a little grease
To slide them through the bogs.
They fear they may not get the chance
To take the pore man's hire,
But he left to clutch an empty purse
While wading through the mire.
They had better pull their linen now
And seek a job of work,
We Democrats don't care for those
That from their duty shirks.
We like to see them come like men,
Put their shoulders to the wheel,
And not go around from town to town
Teaching men to steal.
When the Republicans have the rule,
The poor must suffer then,
They must look to God along for help,
They'd get none from such men.
For they like ravens in the air
When little lambs are high;
They take the poor man's bread and cheese
Then rob him of pie.
They make him bow beneath the weight
Of poverty's heavy load,
And if he chance to stumble
They'd pinch him with the goad.
They set a silver idol,
And hedge it in with gold,
Their schemes and machinations
Cannot one half be told.
Oh can it be that men of sense
Would love to cause distress,
Is there not a tender chord
Some place within their breast?
That they may turn from the shadows dark
And seek the sun's bright ray,
And cease their evil doings
For this we humbly pray.
No more we'd hear those boodles spout,
From this we'd have a rest,
Oh, tell us of good Democrats
While there's life within our breast.
A.Z.P.
GEORGE WASHINGTON
George Washington, the father of his country,
Was valiant and true to the core,
He fought like a lion for victory,
And gained it on lake and on shore.
In his breast beat the heart of the foreman,
He would bow not 'neath tyranny's rod;
He would give his life's blood for his country
And look for protection from God.
He would bear not the rule of poor recession,
But fight with his last dying breath,
To free his dear country from bondage,
For said he, "Give me liberty or death."
We will conquer that great and proud nation,
And pause not for wind or for rain;
"Courage boy's, forward, "he shouted,
"We will march on to victory again."
He fought in the front of the battle,
And never gave up his command,
"Till victory and freedom was shouted,
And re-echoed through all the broad land.
May the Stars and Stripes of the Nation,
Long wave o'er the land of the free,
And Washington ne'er be forgotten,
By free men on land or on sea.
A.Z.P.
OUR GOVERNOR
Will the songbirds sing the sweeter,
And the sunshine be more fair,
Will the sad hearts sing the happier song
Now Simons took the chair.
Will the prices that now are soaring
So high up in the air,
Come down with in the reach of men
Now Simons took the chair.
Will the graters and the grabbers,
And the money pigs be fair,
And give the poor a chance to live
Now Simons took the chair.
Will he be a kindly father,
To the children of his care
And pave the way for better times,
Now Simons took the chair.
Will his motto be 'live and let live'
Will he their troubles share,
Will the hungry have enough to eat,
Not Simons took the chair.
Woe unto ye rich men,
Robbers and thieves be ware,
You had better been drowned in the depth of the sea,
Now Simons took the chair.
A.Z.P.
NEW YEARS GREETING
A glad New Year be unto you,
With joy and sweet content,
May it be all the years
The happiest one you've spent.
May no deep sorrow come to you,
You fill your hearts with pain,
And cast a shadow o'er your lives
That will not lift again.
I'm thankful for my home and friends
And all that loves me true,
And oh, I thank the Lord each day,
For a loving friend like you.
AMY Z. PORTER
GOING TO MARKET
Going to market, how pleasant and sweet,
Riding a horse through the dry dusty street,
In the warm pleasant sunshine and pure air from
Heaven,
Such pleasure, as these to all are not given.
Grasping the rein with a firm steady hand,
And gaze with delight at the beauteous land,
And see the bright flowers and meadows so gay,
That gladdens the heart as she gallops away.
With the basket she enters the great market place
And seeks for her wants with a smile on her face,
She visits each counter as she passes their way,
And is ready for home at the close of the day.
Then mounting her horse in the cool evening tide,
A princess might envy her cool evening ride,
As she gallops alone to he own cottage door,
With her heart and her basket both brimming o'er.
AMY Z. PORTER
A CHRISTMAS POEM
In those valleys fair and lovely
Where in peace we love to dwell,
Where we gladly greet the chiming
Of the merry Christmas bell.
And our hearts, are filled with gladness
On each gladsome Christmas morn.
As were those the glorious morning
When the infant King was born.
Each Merry Christmas brings to Monday
Our Saviors' humble birth
When sages came to welcome Him
And hailed Him King of Earth.
He grew in wisdom and in strength,
And confounded sages old,
They marveled at the words He spoke
So fearlessly and bold.
We gladly welcome now a day
Since He redemption brought;
"Be meek and lowly as a child",
Were the precepts that He taught.
"Redemption cometh but my me,
Salvation I can give---
Dispel the darkness from your minds,
Forsake your sins and live".
"All those who believe upon my name,
Shall have Eternal Life;"
He strove to save the world from sin
Amid persecutions rife.
He strove though patience and though love
To lead them to the light,
Though having ears they could not hear,
And seeing has no sight.
With patience and long suffering
That filled His soul with pain.
He left them not unto themselves,
But strove with them in vain.
And when by wicked men betrayed
Who sold His life for gold,
The look of mild reproach was all
That of His sufferings told.
And while suffering on the cross,
Great pain and anguish too,
"Father, forgive them," thus He said,
"They know not what they do."
May all remember His great love
And profit by the same,
Like Him be ready to forgive
And ever slow to blame.
With Peace on Earth, Good will-be to men,
We welcome Christmas here,
Amy may it's joys never fade,
Through the succeeding years.
May every child in every clime
Be joyous good and gay,
And each one have a merry time
On this bright Christmas Day.
A.Z.P.
SIXTY-FIVE YEARS
Sixty- five years, how few remain,
The story to relate,
Of people in our free land
Being driven from the state.
They were forced by a cruel mob to flee
While their homes burned bright and red,
They had the blue sky for their roof,
The cold ground for their bed.
Their suffering and privation
By man can not be told,
Oh who can tell the suffering caused
Form hunger form cold.
Yet they were more greatly blessed
Than many were of old,
They had a prophet called of God
To guard the scattered fold.
They prayed, " God, who suffereth this,
Thou knowest all our grief,
Hide not they face from us we pray,
But send us quick relief.
"The gospel sound we must obey,
As restored to us again,
For which the wicked seek our lives
Which cause all our pain.
He called his sisters to his aid,
Who rallied to His call,
He said, "Go forth with the help of God,
There's work enough for all.
"Go bring relief to those suffering ones,
Let not your hands be slack,
Remember God created all,
And giveth what we lack."
The savior taught while here on earth,
"IN giving aims be free,
If you give unto the least of these,
You have given unto me.
A.Z.P.
LET US PRAY
Father, willist thou let Thy spirit
Be within our midst today,
Keep us with Thy sons and daughters,
In the straight and narrow way.
Teach us how to do our duty,
And to serve our Lord our God,
If needs be we must be chastened,
May we humbly kiss the rod.
For 'tis through great tribulations
That our garments are made white,
By our faithfulness on trial,
We are pleasing in Thy sight.
Give us then of Thy pure spirit,
That our feet may firmly stand,
On a sure and firm foundation,
Not one built upon the sand.
For all men are prone to evil,
And to wander form the right,
But, wherein we sin, forgive us,
Blot them clearly from Thy sight.
Help us each to shun the evils,
That are ever in our way,
That the evil one may never
Cause our hearts from Thee to stray.
If we must defend our nation,
We will put our trust in Thee,
Thou hast said if we would serve Thee
One should cause a throng to flee.
Two should scatter many thousands,
For Thy spirit would be there;
We will seek Thy kind assistance
By an earnest constant prayer.
Two should scatter many thousands,
For Thy spirit would be there;
We will seek Thy kind assistance
By an earnest constant prayer.
Spread Thy sheltering arms above us,
Keep us safe beneath Thy wing,
For we hail Thee, Great Almighty,
Lord of Lords, and King of Kings.
AMY ZENORA PORTER
WELCOME TO THE VOLUNTEERS
All the are is filled with music,
'Tis the bugle and the frum,
Glad hurrahs from friends and loved ones
Bid the patriots Welcome Home.
Welcome home from far Manila,
Where the battle cry was heard,
And they daily stood in peril
Of the matched and the sword.
At their country's call they rallied
To avenger the shattered Maine,
And to free a suffering nation
From the tyranny of Spain.
They have fought their country's battles,
And been valiant for the right,
And the Lord has kept them safely
Through the thickest of the fight.
They return to us with honors,
With bright laurels on each brow,
And the hearts of countless thousands
Join to bid them welcome now.
Welcome thee, our country's heroes,
Give to each a friendly hand,
And my joy and peace be with them
In their own sweet native land.
AMY Z. PORTER
WHEAT AND TARES
In a valley fair and fruitful
Wheat and tares together grew,
Tares were noxious weeds and brambles
And much evil they could do.
Faithfully the landlord labored
To clear the tares out from his wheat,
Then the tares were bound in bundles,
And he burned them up complete.
Now his heart is glad and happy
That his land from tares is free,
The wheat grew up tall and graceful
And was beautiful to see.
Those who follow sin and evil
That is scattered by the way,
Are the tares of which the Savior
Said that He would burn some day.
Let us then discard the evil,
Nor let the tares o'er run the wheat,
It will grow, mature and ripen
And make bread for all to eat.
A.Z.P.
THE POOR
The poor have many worries,
An inconveniences too,
They have enough to think about
And plenty for to do.
Thought is good for the active mind,
It would grow dormant without care,
I know God meant for each of us
To have a goodly share.
There is no time to quarrel,
Or set down and lament
We just keep right on going
And learn to be content.
We try to make our home pleasant
For friends and those we love,
And look for brighter, better things
In our mansion house above.
We try to help the weary
Through burdens that are hard,
And when misfortune comes to us,
There'll come a sure reward.
Poverty is a weary thing,
Although it is no sin,
There is many an evil place
The poor ne'er enter in.
We know not the temptations
The rich men have to meet
Blessed are the poor humble
Whose souls are pure and sweet.
AMY Z. PORTER
THE REAPER
I have lived in the valley of the shadow of death
For seventy-two years and more;
I have seen the Reaper, death cut down
The young, the rich, and the poor.
I have walked in the valley of the shadow of death
In his presence night and day,
I have sought my little strength from God;
There is no other way.
No place of safety for man or child,
Can be found in all the land;
Death walks abroad all over the earth
With his sickle in his hand.
How long, O Lord, will he conquer all?
Will his victory never cease?
Hasten the glad millennial day,
When we will have eternal peace.
AMY Z. PORTER
THE WOLF AT THE DOOR
Have the hearts of the rich no charity or love
For the noble pure spirits God has sent from above,
Do their hearts not go out to the needy and poor
That no longer can keep the great wolf form the door?
The poor tired mothers who have labored and fed
Their family of children with good milk and bread,
Who no longer are able to purchase food from the store,
They see the gaunt wolf peering in at the door.
Their forms have grown weary; their hearts have grown sad,
The high cost of living is driving them mad,
To see their dear children look hungry and poor
And unable to keep the gaunt wolf from the door.
Is there a man or a woman with a heart in his breast,
That ca lie down in luxury to slumbers and rest,
While women and children, and aged and poor,
Are suffering for bread with the wolf at the door.
Oh God up in Heaven, reach out Thy strong hand
And stop the injustice that covers the land,
The graft and the stealing of the rich from the poor,
That compels them to meet the gaunt wolf at the door.
AMY Z. PORTER
THE TEMPTER
In the morn of time when earth was formed
And God pronounced it good,
In a beautiful garden He had made
A man and woman stood.
With fruits and flowers of every kind,
And water pure and clear,
They felt secure from every harm,
For Father was so near.
They plucked the flowers and ate the fruit,
And God upon them smiled,
Until Satan in the garden came,
By him they were beguiled.
Where e'er they went he followed them,
No peace or rest they knew,
He entered in the heart of Cain
And he his brother slew.
Through all the years that came and went,
No time by him was lost,
Through him, our Savior was betrayed.
And suffered on the cross.
And all the prophets' God has sent,
He has poisoned with his breath,
Some he has slain by tortured,
And others stoned to death.
And e'er in this enlightened age,
He tempts the pure in heart,
But all things good remaineth
While the evil must depart.
AMY Z. PORTER
THE WIFE'S PLEA
Listen to the anxious pleading
Of your ever loving wife,
For she comes to you, her husband,
As one pleading for her life.
Her, you vowed to love and cherish,
Keep and guard with choicest care,
Be with her in all her sorrow,
In all your pleasure she would share.
She in all to you is faithful,
Has been a kind and loving wife.
While the sorrow that you bring her
Would hurt more deeply that the knife.
See, In grief her form is shaken,
Do not haste to take her life,
And be careful how you grieve her
The sweet soul, you dear wife.
Think of all our little children
Left without a mother's care,
In a world of sin and sorrow,
Oh what grief they'd have to share.
Think of your own soul's deep sorrow,
Cast from all that you love dear,
With the evil and the sinful,
To suffer there a thousand years.
Think of all a wife can suffer
And do cease to give her pain,
For I fear when death divides us
We will never meet again.
Oh do cease from sin and evil
And do right throughout your life,
Or on the resurrection morning
You'll have neither child nor wife.
Amy Z. Porter
THE WOLF
A wolf in sheep's clothing
Once came to my door.
His fine suit was faultless,
I viewed him all o'er.
He was gentle and manly,
He smiled with a grin,
As much as to say,
"Won't you welcome me in?"
He smiled on me sweetly,
"Pray whom may you be?"
"A wolf in sheep's clothing,"
He said unto me.
"A wolf in sheep's clothing,
Then please leave my door.
I shall be very glad,
If you come here no more."
Think of God's children
Who are being led astray,
By wolves in sheep's clothing
Who are strewn by the way.
A.Z.P.
THE VINE
How fair is the vine on the garden wall,
With the autumn leaves so gay,
The frost has touched its tender leaves
And started his decay.
Since early spring its leaves unfurled;
It has woven a robe of green,
On every trellis porch or wall,
Fit for the noblest queen.
It has charmed the eye of the passerby,
And given pleasure sweet,
All have found its lovely shade
A pleasant cool retreat.
Its works of love will ne'er be o'er,
For though its youth is passed,
Like the live of the noble and the true,
They are brightest to the last.
For awhile it will rest in the earth's cold breast,
When it's leaves again unfold,
The birds will sing in its leafy swing,
Till it finds a crown of gold.
A.Z.P.
THE WAGES OF SIN
Moroni, the son of Mormon
How bitter was the pain,
When you saw the many thousands
Of Nephites that were slain.
And knew the great afflictions
Through which they had to wade,
Was caused by their rebellion,
And their hearts from had strayed.
And thou of all were left alone
O record their dreadful fate,
No home or friends to cheer thy heart,
Thy sorrows, too, were great.
May we, like thee, remember
To draw near to God each day,
That Satan may not have the power
To lead our hearts astray.
A.Z.P.
THE YOUNG GIRLS LAMENT
Oh, dear, what is the matter,
I feel like I could fight,
To think the Lord when making us
Didn't know how to make us right.
We must be remolded,
We'll make ourselves look right,
He will get into a corset
And lace it up real tight.
Then we'll charm the boys,
They will think we look so fair,
With a corset squeezed about our waist
And rats up in our hair.
Of course the girls that wear them
Look like their brains are small,
But then the boys would like us
If we had no brains at all.
Amy Z. Porter
THANKSGIVING
Thanksgiving Day has come at last,
The feast of pumpkin pie,
The turkey in the oven roasts,
Oh, hear it spit and fry.
The sausages sputters on the stove,
The kettle sings for joy,
The clock is watched with anxious eyes
By every girl and boy.
The snowy cloth at last is spread,
The roast is nicely done,
The table groans beneath its load
Hurrah! Thanksgiving's come !!!
We will feast and frolic all day long,
For tireless months will pass away,
Before a day like this will come
A glad Thanksgiving Day.
Amy Z. Porter
THE ROBIN'S NEST
I had wandered in the twilight
To a pretty robin's nest,
As I looked, I saw the mother
Tuck the nestlings to her breast.
Lovingly she tucked her feathers
Close around each tiny form;
And I knew the anxious mother
Yearned to keep her darlings warm.
Then she looked so glad and happy,
As you my heart will never know;
For my own sweet babe was taken
Just a few short months ago.
Now the wound is freshly opened,
Alone, sad feelings filled my breast,
As I lovingly watched the babes
That were in that robin's nest.
Amy Z. Porter
THAT BOY OF MINE
In a quiet cozy corner
By the warm fire's cheerful light,
Mother sits so calmly dreaming
In her old arm chair tonight.
She hears the wind in angry puffs,
It's breath so cold and chill,
The feathery snow is whitening fast
The lowlands and the hills.
She gently sways the old armchair,
In her eyes a far-a-way look,
She pays no need to the song that's sung
Or the story of the book.
Her thoughts are of a tall fair boy,
In lands to her unknown,
Who gets his food and shelter now
With strangers in their home.
Does he comfortably sit by some warm fireside
This night so bitter cold,
She wishes him safe by her own fireside
In the old homes scared fold.
The tears steal softly down her cheek,
And dims the fading light,
Happy would be that mother's heart
If her boy were home tonight.
Does he think of that mother's stooping form,
And deeply furrowed brow,
And see the many silver threads
Around her forehead now?
And hear that mother's gentle voice
Who's loving words so sweet,
Have taught to him the surest way
To the blessed Savior's feet.
Oh, God, protect that boy of mine
From every ill or harm,
And give him strength to safely tide
Life's bitter winds and storms.
Give him wisdom from on high
To do his Father's will,
That he may dwell when life is o'er
On Zion's flowery hill.
A.Z.P.
THOU SHALT NOT STEAL
It seem to me a dreadful thing
When children, taught to pray,
Will pick the schoolmates pockets
And steal their goods away.
The Savior said, "Thou shalt not steal!!
But you must always do
To other people as you wish
To have them do to you".
There's no one wants their pockets picked
And their belongings stolen away;
That's the thing we all must see,
In this school every day.
I wish some mighty man would come
With wisdom from on high,
Who would teach the children to be good
And not steal and lie.
A.Z.P.
THAT GORL OF MINE
Twenty years have passed away
And quickly they have flown,
Since a little maiden sweet and fair,
From Paradise did roam.
She had blue eyes and silken hair,
And cheeks like crested foam,
No little maiden ever brought
More sunshine to her home.
From morn to night she laughed and gooed.
And like a flower she grew,
Many anxious days we've passed,
And sleepless nights, 'tis true.
She has grown to womanhood,
With heart as pure as snow,
She scatters sunshine all around
Where e'er she chances to go.
Her heart is treasure dearer far
Than mines of purest gold,
The joy that she to others brings
Cannot one half be told.
May she still scatter sunshine around
As years to her are given,
And all her days be happy ones,
And her earth home be a heaven.
When many years have passed o'er her,
And frost upon her brow,
May loving friends be ever near
As gay as she is now.
AMY Z. PORTER
THE MOUNTAINS
On the grand old mountains high
With towering peaks near to the sky,
Where shrubs and trees, that like a pall
Of splendid green, spread over all.
The streamlet running at its base
Goes rippling by with placid face,
The flowers that shine in bright array
Are beautiful and fair today.
The frosts will soon their beauty fade,
In every nook or glen or glade,
For oh the sky is cold and gray,
When winter holds its bitter sway.
And all the earth seems sad and drear,
The fields are looking brown and near,
It is the autumn of the year
When nature fades without a tear.
The winter snows will soon descend
And cover hill and glade and glen,
With a fair robe of spotless white,
The earth is them a pleasant sight.
A.Z.P
THE IDLER
He sits around and grumbles
Over trivials large or small,
The easiest job is too hard for him,
He will not work at all.
He talks about his poverty,
And curses his sad fate,
He would like to be a mighty man
And do things good and great.
He wants the Lord to furnish him
Ten million tons of gold,
So he can have a change in life
Before he gets too old.
He wants a million-dollar house
And forty-seven wives.
And just as many children
As bees within the hive.
If he could just be God awhile,
How different things would be,
There would be no fruit, but solid gold
Drop down from every tree.
He says God is not a just God
But a selfish greedy dunce,
If he could get a chance at Him
He would tell Him so at once.
He would tell Him that He was no God,
Or he would heap up piles of gold
So he could have enough toast
And not be quite so cold.
He had better pray to God for light
To do a better part,
And write, "Get out and earn your gold,"
On the tablet of his heart.
AMY Z. PORTER
THE MONOGAMUS WIFE
We read indictments every day,
On the noble men of earth;
We never hear a word about
The low down of the earth.
My husband has no other wife,
He has no time to spark,
He is always on some drunken spree
Or some other kind if lark.
I often wish he had more wives
And was on the under ground,
I then would have an idea
Where his lordship could be found.
But now, alas, I do not know
It is very hard to tell,
He is some place in the city,
In the alleyways of hell.
I would not enter those vile dens,
If his lordship ne'er was found
I would be free from such a smell
As he brings home from town.
I think if they would mind the sound
That makes the loudest noise,
They would have no time to meddle with
Those quiet kind of boys.
AMY Z. PORTER
THE RED CROSS
All true American mothers
And women near and far
Are doing everything they can
To help to win the war.
We are toiling, planning, and praying
Th know what's best to do,
To aid the largest number
And help the troubled through.
We are a mighty army,
And trust in God above,
We will win the war by mercy,
By charity and love.
We pray for the war-torn nations,
So far across the sea;
For won sweet home, America
The dear land of the free.
For all the dear home workers
That toil in the wind and rain,
To bring from earth her harvest
Of fruit and golden grain.
And for the noble soldier boys
To go across the sea
To help put down oppressions
And set the captive free.
For our nation and he Allies,
May God strengthen them to fight,
He ever leads a hand to those
That battle for the right.
We will have a perfect trust in him,
And the victory will be won,
Our foes will fall before us
Like frost before the sun.
We will give our thanks and praise to God,
When such glorious things shall be,
When vile oppression is put down
And the captives are set free.
Amy Z. Porter
THE PAINTER
The paint he used was red and white,
He worked through the day and slept at night,
The white paint dried, the red paint too,
To work with paint is all he knew.
He had bright colors by the score,
He painted building o'er and o'er,
They all looked bright; they all looked new,
When the busy painter had got through.
Amy Z. Porter
THE QUARREL
One very pleasant winter's day
Two little boys went out to play,
To build a castle and a king,
Light hearted did they work and sing.
As each one labored at his own,
Said one; "I'll build a splendid throne,
And a beautiful tower strong and high,
A marvel to the passer by."
The other said," A splendid plan,
I'll have a place to but my man,
And when I have my fine work done
I'll sit my king upon my throne."
"You'll never set him on my throne,
I'll make a King, sir, of my own."
Well, if you build him here around,
I'll feel the monster to the ground.
And thus a bitter strife began,
Down went the castle, down the man;
They quarreled and kicked, then came to blows,
Instead of friends they parted foes.
And thus it is with men of earth,
It matters not how high their birth,
With good intentions some sport begins
But ends it with a grievous sin.
Amy Z. Porter
THE BACHELOR
He sits alone by his cabin fire,
A dreary place it must be,
No wife to cheer him with her love
No babies to climb his knee.
No nimble feet make music sweet,
To cheer his lonely way,
No happy song the whole day long
From children at their play.
No loving smile to welcome him
When his daily toils are o'er,
Or the sound of hurrying childish feet
To meet him at the door.
No warmth and cheer awaits him here
With the savory food's sweet breath
But chill and gloom fills the silent room,
As cold as that of death.
Alone, alone by day and night,
It would never do for me,
No wife to cheer me with her love,
No babes to climb my knee.
A.Z.P.
THE BROOK
The brook lies calmly in the sun;
The streamlets laugh and play,
You can hear the music of its song
On each bright summer day.
It runs along with a rippling sound,
It's streams run in and out.
I seek the brook with line and hook,
To catch the speckled trout.
I love to see it's calm sweet face
When moved by the gentle breeze,
In its depths I see the sky above
And gently waiving trees.
Life to me is like the brook;
It is a pleasant for a day,
Then the bitter stones of life come on
And drive the calm away.
Amy Z. Porter
THE FIRST MAN'S WIFE
When Eve first in the garden came
To share a lonely life.
She did not know the grief and pain
Of being the first man's wife.
She knew not of the myriad's of souls
That would fall through sin and strife,
That would cover the earth from pole to pole
If she became the first man's wife.
Her face was fair as the morning's sun,
With coils of soft brown hair,
That sat like a crown on her queenly brow
For Mother ever was fair.
She judged all men by her own pure heart,
Was ready to believe,
The words of the evil flattering one
That practice to deceive.
And thus her daughters like herself
Must suffer all their life.
Because her mother was brave enough
To because the first man's wife.
A.Z.P.
THE FOLWERS FOR ME
Give me the flowers of noble deeds,
Of human love and kindness;
These are the flowers that reacheth out,
And leadeth those in blindness.
Give me the flowers of a kindly word,
To the unfortunate and the lonely,
These are the flowers to cultivate
Although they grow but slowly.
Give me the flowers of truth and right,
Of love for one another,
Give me the flowers of kindly words
For sister and for brother.
Give me the flowers of work well done,
Of faithfully performing duty;
These are the flowers that never fade
And fill the world with beauty.
Give me the flowers of a silent prayer,
For me in all my sorrow;
These are the flowers that give me strength
And courage for tomorrow.
Give me the flowers I dearly love,
While yet I have my reason;
These are the flowers that strive and grow,
In any time or season.
Give me the flowers of kindly care,
And love for Father and Mother,
These are the flowers that smooth my path
From this world to the other.
A.Z.P.
WE ARE THANKFUL
We are thankful, Heavenly Father
For the pleasures we enjoy,
For the many blessings given
To every girl and boy.
We are thankful for our parents,
For homes and daily bread,
We know 'tis from Thy bounty
The people all are fed.
We are thankful for the sunshine,
We are thankful for the rain,
For the lovely fruit and flowers,
And for the golden grain.
We are thankful to be numbered
With the people of Thy choice,
For kind and loving teachers,
We are thankful and rejoice.
We are thankful for the Prophet
To show us gospel light,
For all Thy many blessings
We are thankful day and night.
A.Z.P.
A SONG OF PEACE
Tell us mot of war's alarms -
Of horrors deep and wild,
That causes the creeping bloom to chill
In every man or child.
Or the muffled sound of the battle cry,
Like the voice of the ocean deep,
Whose waves roll high the billowy surge,
Where the lost and fallen sleep.
That like a seething bitters wind,
Or the fire's destructive flame,
Where death and disaster come to all
Who follow in its train.
It robs a nation of its strength,
The youth of his manly pride,
It breaks the heart of the maiden fair,
As will as the weeping bride,
Tell us tales of peace and love
Where joy and pleasure sweet
Fill the hearts of the happy throng,
Where the youth and aged meet.
O peaceful homes and happy hearts,
Where peace and plenty smile,
Where words of love are even spoken
By parent and by child.
Tell us of nations good and great,
Of brotherly love and peace,
Where none would strike and cruel blow
Where hatred and envy cease.
Where love and joy and sweet content,
And the noble and peaceful dwell,
Where the frown of God may never come,
The joy of their hearts to quell.
Then let us pray that the peace of Heaven
May flow as the ocean tide,
We'll strike at sun as at a foe,
Who is lurking at our side.
We'll strive for peace, for truth and love,
For virtue, life, and light,
And seek the peace that comes to all
Who battle for the right.
May God protect our peaceful home,
From war's destructive hand,
That the blood of our sons may never flow
To stain our own dear land.
A.Z.P.
THE CHEERFUL FRIEND
He comes sometimes to see me
With a smiling happy face,
He's like a ray of sunshine,
In some dark and lonesome place.
His heart seems full of gladness,
He brings us all good cheer,
He scatters shadows from the heart
And dries the falling tear.
He knows his friends and loves them,
To them he'll e'er be true,
I know so good a heart as his
Will not great evil do.
He has a tear for sorrow,
A comfort in distress,
A hand to help the needy
For this he's doubly blessed.
He knows the God that made him,
And pleases Him each day,
His promise to the faithful
He'll not lightly throw away.
He'll never break the loving hearts,
Whose tendrils around him twine,
Or lightly crush beneath his feet
The tender clinging vine.
Ever be true to yourself, dear friend,
And true to the God above,
Your heart and home will ever be
A dwelling place of love.
But if you tread the paths of sin,
You surely understand,
You will spoil the peace of a happy home,
By the works of your own hand.
AMY Z. PORTER
AUTUMN
When the early autumn frosts appear,
The leaves turn red and brown,
Each little breeze that moves the trees
Will send them tumbling down.
The flowers will fade in glen and glade
And in the garden bed;
The wailing winds of Autumn say
"Dead---- Dead".
The earth will change her gay green dress
For one that's brown and sere,
All nature seems to be more sad
In the Autumn of the years.
A.Z.P.
THE SONG OF THE BIRD
Sweet are the songs of the Lark and the robin,
That swing on the branch of the old apple tree,
Whose music brings joy to the heart of all creatures,
And fills all the woodland with music and glee.
We love the sweep notes of dear little songsters,
They seem to rejoice that winter is o'er,
They flit from each branch so light and airy,
And seem to believe there be winter no more.
And as the bright days of spring time ore passing,
They rejoice in the world to them is so fair,
As summer soon goes and winter approaches,
Their dear little hearts are filled with much care.
The Father who make each dear little sparrow,
And caused their warble in spring to be heard,
He spendeth the sunshine and rain for their pleasure,
And kept them safe when the cold winds are heard.
A.Z.P.
WOODS CROSS 8 MARCH, 1883
Dearest Sister, Wife and Mother,
How we loved you none can tell,
Yet we know again we'll meet you
In the land where loved ones dwell.
When the morning dawns so brightly
Then we listen for your voice,
Sister for sweet word of kindness,
Words that bid our hearts rejoice.
And when evening shadows gather,
Then we miss your smiling face,
Evening prayers are breathed in silence,
None can fill a mother's place.
But we will not mourn dear sister,
Knowing you are now at rest,
And are watching o'er us smiling
From the home among the blest.
Yes we know that you are with us
As in days that are past and gone,
And your spirit hovering near us
Tells us that we need not mourn.
That you live in realms of beauty,
Far removed from this worlds strife,
No more suffering pain or sadness
And what we call death is life.
Amy Z. Porter
THE FLAPPER
Girls don't be called a flapper;
That's nothing but a bat,
Better be an industrious woodchuck
A useful dog or cat.
A bat is not a beast or bird,
Deny it if you can.
A flapper is not a woman
And cannot be a man.
A flapper is a useless thing,
Neither sweet nor fair,
With paint all plastered on her face
And a frizzle head of hair.
They're not a bit attractive,
Disgusting to all men;
They're not like the useful honeybee
Or the good old family hen.
No man of sense would think of one
As a companion for his life;
A flapper is not a woman
And could not be a wife.
Amy Z. Porter
BEYOND THE GRAVE
Life is full of care and sorrow,
Like the oceans' trouble wave;
Will we find it thus, I wonder,
In the home beyond the grave.
Pain and suffering, toil and worry
Are the things we must brave,
But we hope for peace Eternal
In the home beyond the grave.
Yet how oft our faith is shaken
While we sail lifes' troubled wave,
Will disappointments be our portion
In the home beyond the grave.
Naught we know if we are faithful
There is one our souls can save,
And I pray He'll not forsaken us
In the home beyond the grave.
Then though trails be our portion,
We'll not sink beneath the wave,
But will live above temptations
In the home beyond the grave.
A.Z.P.
THE HONEY BEE
Dear little honey bee
Humming around,
How I love to listen
To the ever dear sound.
For the council you give
In your humming neat,
To the soul that believes,
And the ear ever sweet.
Continue thy humming
My dear little bee,
Gathering honey
From every green tree.
Let the fruit you gather
And sound of your voice,
Be scattered abroad
And cause all to rejoice.
When all hear thy voice
And partake of thy fruit,
May they find that thy truths
There are none to dispute.
And all will acknowledge
On land and on sea,
There's no music so sweet
As the song of the bee.
Amy Z. Porter
THE GOSPEL LIGHT
Oh, how thankful we should be
To our Father day and night
For the many blessings given,
And the gospel's glorious light.
Oh, how tender are His mercies,
And His love that has no end,
Seek Him early and you'll find Him
A true and never falling friend.
For the gospel light that shineth
As a light set on a hill,
That its rays may gently lead us
To His presence if we will.
It extends to every nation
With an invitation "Come"
Live the gospel taught by Jesus
It will bring you safely home.
"Follow in His lowly footsteps,
It will give you light and life,
And will teach us to be humble
And resist from every strife.
We will forgive each other's feelings,
As we hope to be forgiven,
For unless we are thus humble
We will find no place in Heaven.
For He suffered persecution
Greater far than I or you,
Yet He said, "Father, "forgive them
For they know not what they do."
AMY Z. PORTER
THE BETTERMENT CLUB
The betterment club like peacocks are gay,
They primp; they paint and powder each day,
They flaunt their fine feathers for the admiration of men,
But never once look at the little brown hen.
The little brown hen at home she does stay,
She gives us fresh eggs for our breakfast each day,
She works and labors and does all she can
For the health, the wealth and pleasure of man
The gay gaudy peacock, no brains in its head
Would go very hungry if by others not fed.
So silly and simpering to work for its grub,
That's the way with the betterment club.
AMY Z. PORTER
TELL ME SO
You'll not kiss me if you love me;
Kisses are deceit, you know;
Judas had a kiss for Jesus
If you love me, tell me so.
CHORUS
Tell me by kind words and action.
Deeds of love like blossoms grow,
Binding hearts more close together,
If you love me, tell me so.
In the cool and pleasant evening
When the breezes gently blow,
And the stars are brightly shining
If you love me, tell me so.
When the dark clouds hover o'er me,
And the winds of sorrow fiercely blow,
When my heart is crushed and broken
If you love me, tell me so.
AMY Z. PORTER
THE AGED
God pity the hearts of the aged ones,
They feel so much alone,
They life not in the present time
But in time that's past and gone.
A sad lone feeling fills their hearts,
A feeling akin to gloom,
As though some evil would befall,
Or they'd soon be called back home.
The things of today are soon forgot,
That of the past will come,
They think if the battles they have fought,
And victories they have won.
They sit and dream of things that are past,
With pleasure and sweet content,
And love again in the days of yore,
And dream of pleasure spent.
Like a drop of dew to the withered flowers
Are those dreams to the heart that's dear,
And though their days are nearly spent,
They feel younger year by year.
Dear lone sad hearts, dream on, dream on,
And live again in the past,
That the flowers of youth may cheer the heart,
Till the cares of life are spent.
AMY Z. PORTER
THE CONDEMENED WOMAN
Cast the first stone, who will it be
That casts the first stone at you or at me?
Are the missals accurately thrown
By them that steps forwards and cast the first stone
Cast the first stone, just go on your way,
You are perfectly safe from all danger today,
Not one in the throng even the king in his throne
Dares to step forward and cast the first stone.
Cast the first stone, ye learned and wise,
Your proud boasts of virtue did the Savior despise,
He knew that her guilt was no less than their own
He said, "He without sin should cast the first stone."
"Where are thine accusers?" The kind Savior said
She tremblingly answered, "They've all turned and fled,
Of all that large number, I'm left here alone,
Not one has come forward to cast the first stone."
"Has no one condemned thee? Neither do I.
Go sin no more," He quickly made reply,
Thy guilty accusers have all turned and flown,
Be worthy henceforward to cast the first stone.
AMY Z. PORTER
PUT HIM OUT
If the devil comes your way,
Pass him by and nothing say,
If he steps upon your toes,
Close your fist and smash his nose,
Put him out into the street
Using both your hands and feet,
Close your heart and lock the door,
And I think he'll trouble you no more.
AMY Z. PORTER
THEN AND NOW
The sweet flowers that blossomed in Eden
Were bright in their colors so gay,
Their fragrance was purer and sweeter
Than that of the flowers that blossom today.
The birds that sang, sweet songs in Eden,
Undisturbed on the branches did sway,
The air was purer much purer
Than the air we are breathing today.
The fruit that ripened in Eden
Was free from worms or decay,
It was juicy, sweet and delicious,
Unlike the fruit we are eating today.
The water, that ran out of Eden
And watered the lands far away,
Was pure and not filled with disease germs
Like the water we are drinking today.
Our parent's sweet homes are in Eden,
They were placed there by God up above,
Their hearts knew neither pain nor sorrow,
They dwelt in the kind Father's love.
Through transgression, they were driven from
Eden,
To toil where sharp thistles grew,
Their homes were more peaceful and happy,
Than that of the homes we now know.
The serpent that went into Eden
And polluted its pleasures so sweet,
Is busy now, busily weaving
Snares for the unwary feet.
He caused grief for our parents in Eden
With his guileful and flattering way,
He is now causing grief for their children
As by thousands he leads them astray.
AMY Z. PORTER
