POET'S
CORNER
New Hospital And Progress
By Jimmy Hatlo
Sun., April 14,
The joy of life is living It,
Or so it seems to me;
And helping progress, on its way
I To a greater destiny.
Were all things perfect here be
low, Or naught for our hands to Jo;
If the old was good enough
We would not need the new.
Our efforts then should be,
To reach a higher goal;
And try to do our level best
To give courage to our soul.
Success depends entirely on
$fttal&aitiJ$rt$ They'll Do It Every Time
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I : : : I K '' J ASTLCTH.:r lENTH CENTURY V"iF 1' OUNmS t T
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Where our honest effort lies;
Put our shoulders to the wheel
To win the coveted prize.
Each and every one will try.
To prove their eternal worth
And make our town the very besl
The most beautiful, on earth.
Only he who knows a perfect joy,
And has done his little bit:
Can watch the New Hospital rise
And enjoy in doing it.
CJH
Our Old Wood Stove
When 1 get up in the morning.
And before I put on my clothes.
I hurry out to the kitchen, and
Fire up the old wood stove.
The smoke starts to rising. And
The old slove begins to roar;
Soon it is so bloomin' hot
I have to open wide the door.
Mother used lo make cookies,
And I knew that she would
Let me eat about a dozen,
If I'd carry in the wood.
When kids would go skating, and
No better place could we find,
Than warming up to the wood
slove
And drying ourselves behind.
Mother lived to be ninety,
She was ever bright and gay;
The Old Wood Stove disappeared
When Mother passed away.
I Now 1 get up in Ihe morning,
can't put on my britches;
For my hands are so awfully cold
From turning on the switches.
CM
In the Garden of Gclhsemane
'Neath the olive trees they crept,
As it all comes back to me;
Tired and hungry, yet they slept
In the Garden of Gethsemane. ,
Canst Thou watch one hour with
me?
In His awful agony;
Repent and sin no more,
In the Garden of Gethsemane.
If Thou canst Oh Father,
Remove this challis from me;
As Jesus humbly Prayed
In the Garden of Gethsemane.
His sweat as drops of blood,
Abba Father Thy will be done
Victory over death was won
In the Garden of Gethsemane.
Judas 'betrayed Him with a kiss,
As the Roman Guards stood by;
His Apostles He did miss for
They used their legs to fly.
He was scourged on the Pillars,
And ridiculed by the crowd;
Hang Him on the cross, was
The verdict good and loud.
Thus Our Lord paid the price.
And fulfilled the Prophecy;
Naught but death could suffice
In the Garden fo Gethsemane.
I Yes He wore the crown of thorns,
and was crucified on Calvary;
i.nd He died on the cross
For you and for me.
CJH
A PERFECT PICTURE
Through the years into centuries
with brush and pen,
Man has strove to paint a pic
ture of the Savior of men.
Of tlie Christ as he was in hir.
splendor and glory.
While giving of His life to pre
serve Cod's story.
How can one paint the suffer
ing, the courage and love?
Etched in the Face of God's
image from above.
There would be lines caused
from worry,
The innocence of a child.
The furrowed brow of deep
thought
The sympathy expressed when
he smiled.
I am sure the greatest of arlis-t
Found theirselves at a less
Trying to capture the love and
concern showed for us
As he was nailed to the cross.
And the expression of victory
and triumph
As He fulfilled the promise he
gave.
When on that memorable
Easter morn
He arose from the grave.
I think he will understand
When he looks down from aboe
Though the picture mny lack
much to t desired
The thought behind It Is love
Lawrence Ballard