Everard Jack Appleton

Everard Jack Appleton Poems

Somewhere she waits to make you win, your soul in her firm, white hands
Somewhere the gods have made for you, the Woman Who Understands!
...

I have no fear. What is in store for me
Shall find me ready for it, undismayed.
God grant my only cowardice may be
...

He has come the way of the fighting men, and fought by the rules of the
Game,
And out of Life he has gathered--What? A living,--and little
...

I knew his face the moment that he passed
Triumphant in the thoughtless, cruel throng,--
Triumphant, though the quiet, tired eyes
...

I sorter like a gloomy day,
Th' kind that jest _won't_ smile;
It makes a feller hump hisself
T' make life seem wuth while.
...

STRAIGHT thinking,
Straight talking,
Straight doing,
And a firm belief in the might of right.
...

When you're nearly drowned in trouble, and the world is dark as ink;
When you feel yourself a-sinking 'neath the strain,
...

Trouble in the distance seems all-fired big--
Sorter makes you shiver when you look at it a-comin';
...

IT'S a high-falutin' title they have handed us;
It's very complimentary and grand;
But a year or so ago they called us 'hicks,' you know--
...

If I can help another bear an ill
By bearing mine with somewhat of good grace--
Can take Fate's thrusts with not too long a face
...

The Best Poem Of Everard Jack Appleton

The Woman Who Understands

Somewhere she waits to make you win, your soul in her firm, white hands
Somewhere the gods have made for you, the Woman Who Understands!

As the tide went out she found him
Lashed to a spar of Despair,
The wreck of his Ship around him--
The wreck of his Dreams in the air;
Found him and loved him and gathered
The soul of him close to her heart--
The soul that had sailed an uncharted sea,
The soul that had sought to win and be free--
The soul of which _she_ was part!
And there in the dusk she cried to the man,
'Win your battle--you can, you can!'

Broken by Fate, unrelenting,
Scarred by the lashings of Chance;
Bitter his heart--unrepenting--
Hardened by Circumstance;
Shadowed by Failure ever,
Cursing, he would have died,
But the touch of her hand, her strong warm hand,
And her love of his soul, took full command,
Just at the turn of the tide!
Standing beside him, filled with trust,
'Win!' she whispered, 'you must, you must!'

Helping and loving and guiding,
Urging when that were best,
Holding her fears in hiding
Deep in her quiet breast;
This is the woman who kept him
True to his standards lost,
When, tossed in the storm and stress of strife,
He thought himself through with the game of life
And ready to pay the cost.
Watching and guarding, whispering still,
'Win you can--and you will, you will!'

This is the story of ages,
This is the Woman's way;
Wiser than seers or sages,
Lifting us day by day;
Facing all things with a courage
Nothing can daunt or dim,
Treading Life's path, wherever it leads--
Lined with flowers or choked with weeds,
But ever with him--with him!
Guidon--comrade--golden spur--
The men who win are helped by _her_!

Somewhere she waits, strong in belief, your soul in her firm, white hands:
Thank well the gods, when she comes to you--the Woman Who Understands!

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