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How Did You Die? Edmund Vance Cook (1866-1932)
Posted by: stevenssn (192.168.128.---)
Date: September 29, 2006 02:38PM

How Did You Die?
--Edmund Vance Cook (1866-1932)

Did you tackle that trouble that came your way
With a resolute heart and cheerful?
Or hide your face from the light of day
With a craven soul and fearful?
Oh, a troubleís a ton, or a troubleís an ounce,
Or a trouble is what you make it.
And it isnít the fact that youíre hurt that counts,
But only how did you take it?

You are beaten to earth? Well, well, whatís that?
Come up with a smiling face.
Itís nothing against you to fall down flat,
But to lie there -- thatís disgrace.
The harder youíre thrown, why the higher you bounce;
Be proud of your blackened eye!
It isnít the fact that youíre licked that counts;
Itís how did you fight and why?

And though you be done to death, what then?
If you battled the best you could;
If you played your part in the world of men,
Why, the Critic will call it good.
Death comes with a crawl, or comes with a pounce,
And whether heís slow or spry,
It isnít the fact that youíre dead that counts,
But only, how did you die?

Re: How Did You Die? Edmund Vance Cook (1866-1932)
Posted by: lg (Moderator)
Date: September 29, 2006 03:20PM

Steven, what's your point?


Re: How Did You Die? Edmund Vance Cook (1866-1932)
Posted by: Desi (Moderator)
Date: September 30, 2006 03:24AM

nice poem though!

Re: How Did You Die? Edmund Vance Cook (1866-1932)
Posted by: lg (Moderator)
Date: September 30, 2006 04:24AM

I like this one by Ellis about the same thing:

The Dash
---Linda Ellis

I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning to the end

He noted that first came her date of her birth
And spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years

For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth.
And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not how much we own;
The cars, the house, the cash,
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard.
Are there things youíd like to change?
For you never know how much time is left,
That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough
To consider whatís true and real
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger,
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like weíve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect,
And more often wear a smile
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy is being read
With your lifeís actions to rehash
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?


Re: How Did You Die? Edmund Vance Cook (1866-1932)
Posted by: lg (Moderator)
Date: September 30, 2006 04:37AM

The Man Who Thinks He Can
--Walter Wintle

If you think you are beaten, you are;
If you think you dare not, you donít.
If youíd like to win, but think you canít,
Itís almost a cinch you wonít.
If you think youíll lose, youíre lost,
For out in the world we find
Success begins with a fellowís will;
Itís all in the state of mind.

If you think youíre outclassed, you are;
Youíve got to think high to rise.
Youíve got to be sure of yourself before
You can ever win a prize.
Lifeís battles donít always go
To the stronger or faster man;
But soon or late the man who wins
Is the one who thinks he can.


Re: How Did You Die? Edmund Vance Cook (1866-1932)
Posted by: Elliot (192.168.128.---)
Date: October 17, 2006 07:40PM

I think Stevenssn's point is that the cause of one's passing is obscure. There is no neon sign indicating the cause of demise, thus a lingering mystery. And we are hesitant to ask; it would make us sound and feel like a nosy busy-body. So we mystery in silence...


Re: How Did You Die? Edmund Vance Cook (1866-1932)
Posted by: Pam Adams (192.168.128.---)
Date: October 18, 2006 01:10PM

You can find similar poems from Robert W. Service, and our old friend Rudyard.

The Quitter
-Robert W. service

When you're lost in the Wild, and you're scared as a child,
And Death looks you bang in the eye,
And you're sore as a boil, it's according to Hoyle
To cock your revolver and . . . die.
But the Code of a Man says: "Fight all you can,"
And self-dissolution is barred.
In hunger and woe, oh, it's easy to blow . . .
It's the hell-served-for-breakfast that's hard.

"You're sick of the game!" Well, now, that's a shame.
You're young and you're brave and you're bright.
"You've had a raw deal!" I know -- but don't squeal,
Buck up, do your damnedest, and fight.
It's the plugging away that will win you the day,
So don't be a piker, old pard!
Just draw on your grit; it's so easy to quit:
It's the keeping-your-chin-up that's hard.
It's easy to cry that you're beaten -- and die;
It's easy to crawfish and crawl;
But to fight and to fight when hope's out of sight --
Why, that's the best game of them all!
And though you come out of each gruelling bout,
All broken and beaten and scarred,
Just have one more try -- it's dead easy to die,
It's the keeping-on-living that's hard.


Re: How Did You Die? Edmund Vance Cook (1866-1932)
Posted by: lg (Moderator)
Date: October 18, 2006 05:17PM

Here's another in the same vein:

Keep A-Pluggin' Away
--Paul Laurence Dunbar

I 'VE a humble little motto
That is homely, though it 's true,--
Keep a-pluggin' away.
It 's a thing when I 've an object
That I always try to do,--
Keep a-pluggin' away.
When you've rising storms to quell,
When opposing waters swell,
It will never fail to tell,--
Keep a-pluggin' away.

If the hills are high before
And the paths are hard to climb,
Keep a-pluggin' away.

And remember that successes
Come to him who bides his time,--
Keep a-pluggin' away.
From the greatest to the least,
None are from the rule released.
Be thou toiler, poet, priest,
Keep a-pluggin' away.

Delve away beneath the surface,
There is treasure farther down,--
Keep a-pluggin' away.
Let the rain come down in torrents,
Let the threat'ning heavens frown,
Keep a-pluggin' away.
When the clouds have rolled away,
There will come a brighter day
All your labor to repay,--
Keep a-pluggin' away.

There'll be lots of sneers to swallow,
There'll be lots of pain to bear,--
Keep a-pluggin' away.

If you 've got your eye on heaven,
Some bright day you'll wake up there,--
Keep a-pluggin' away.
Perseverance still is king;
Time its sure reward will bring;
Work and wait unwearying,--
Keep a-pluggin' away.


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