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Elsie's Poems as Hymns
I really like the first of these, and have set it to the Welsh tune The Ash Grove (MIDI), which strikes me as wholly suitable music for it. The second poem I find less attractive, though I suspect it faithfully reflects some very difficult passages in Grandma's life, as well as her Calvinistic apprehension of God's Providence. Its meter (9.9.9.7) does not suggest an obvious tune to me, even were I desirous of singing it. And FWIW, I suspect that when it was written, "Father knows best" didn't have quite the hackneyed connotative power it carries today. |
Two poems by Elsie Lister Ross Why not now? 75
Too few are the garlands we weave for the living,
Too many the wreaths that are laid on the bier;
If someone has flowers or praise to be giving,
'Tis wrong to withhold while the loved one is here.
When once the dear soul from the cold clay doth vanish,
What use the sweet blossoms so lavishly spread?
One kind, loving word that the teardrops will banish,
Is better than loudest applause to the dead.
Feb. 12, 1924 Elsie Lister Ross
Grandma's New Poodle "Princess"
Late 1967 |
" The Best Gifts."
I prayed for flowery paths to tread,
For play and rest by stream and fountain.
The Master granted not. Instead
He bade me climb the mountain.
I longed for worldly commendation;
God saw and let my idols tumble.
I now desire his approbation,
Through many failures humble.
I sought escape from pain and loss,
I lived in dread lest ill befall.
The Lord in wisdom sent a cross,
But added strength withal.
I asked that plenty might be mine,
That care and want should not oppress;
Now, chastened by a Hand divine,
I am content with less.
And if, perchance, this very day
I crave some boon of doubtful merit,
God's loving answer may be "Nay",
But he will help me bear it.
Say not: "It is a vain request",
For, while in ignorance you're pleading.
Your Father knows just what is best
And sends the gift you're needing.
Elsie Lister Ross. |