A Graduation Celebration of Poetry!

 Hello everyone –

 

It’s graduation season at the University of Illinois once again, so here are some poems dedicated to all our listmembers who have received their academic degrees between May 2016 and May 2017. These are some of my all-time favorite pieces of poetical wisdom, packaged together just for you.

 

“If” by Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936)

 

If you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

 

If you can dream — and not make dreams your master;

If you can think — and not make thoughts your aim;

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build them up with worn-out tools:

 

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

 

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings — nor lose the common touch,

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And — which is more — you’ll be a Man, my son.

 

“Up-Hill” by Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)

 

Does the road wind up-hill all the way?

Yes, to the very end.

Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?

From morn to night, my friend.

 

But is there for the night a resting-place?

A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.

May not the darkness hide it from my face?

You cannot miss that inn.

 

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?

Those who have gone before.

Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?

They will not keep you standing at that door.

 

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?

Of labor you shall find the sum.

Will there be beds for me and all who seek?

Yea, beds for all who come.

 

“The Heritage”

By Abbie Farwell Brown (1871-1927)

 

No matter what my birth may be,

No matter where my lot is cast,

I am the heir in equity

Of all the precious Past.

 

The art, the science, and the lore

Of all the ages long since dust,

The wisdom of the world in store,

Are mine, all mine in trust.

 

The beauty of the living Earth,

The power of the golden Sun,

The Present, whatsoe’er my birth,

I share with everyone.

 

As much as any man am I

The owner of the working day;

Mine are the minutes as they fly

To save or throw away.

 

And mine the Future to bequeath

Unto the generations new;

I help to shape it with my breath,

Mine as I think or do.

 

Present and Past my heritage,

The Future laid in my control; —

No matter what my name or age,

I am a Master-soul!

 

 

Until next time –

Rob 😊