Category: Philosophy

Be glad for Sunday, when we rest,
Relax, and sleep our very best,
Wait for the paper to arrive,
Sit on the lawn, or take a drive.

Now, Sunday turned up in the search,
By pious folk for good, in church;
But (it’s a fact which I deplore)
The irreligious rest much more.

by Ray Romine Sunday, December 31, 1950

Psychologists advise us to
Soft-pedal me, and flatter you.
Such talk is good, and I would try it,
But–how to get one’s friends to buy it?

by Ray Romine Friday, September 15, 1950

“It CAN Be Done”, says Eddie Guest,
Secure among his dollars,
Because the Flop who did his best
Seldom ever hollers.

To pick a few successes from
The thousands who have tried–
Be honest- -does it really come
To proof, or is it pride?

by Ray Romine Sunday, September 2, 1945

We struggle and crawl, with the worm, through the rubble
Of life’s baser worries and woes,
Until what we called “just a worm” leaves his trouble
And up as a butterfly goes.

Every man has within him this same latent power
To arise from his earth-bound worm-shell
An imago, and spreading his wings to the flower
Of beauty, in godliness dwell.

The steeper the road and the farther the Grail,
But the higher we’ve climbed come the End of The Trail.

by Ray Romine Thursday, September 16, 1943

I shall leave no stone unturned
To see my conscience hanged or burned.

by Ray Romine Saturday, September 17, 1949

Today–did it count toward my ultimate aim?
The things I have done, will the total amount
To the smallest of credits to put with my name–
Today: did it count?

Because of this day, will my influence mount?
Will my riches increase; am I closer to fame?
Have I learned, perhaps, probing some mystery’s fount?

But I fear I’m an object of censure and shame.
Although there were hurdles I couldn’t surmount,
These twenty-four hours were fun, just the same!
Today–DID it count?

by Ray Romine Tuesday, February 29, 1944

What will we find at the End of the Road,
Down which we so fretfully hurry?
What is there calling us, beckoning us on,
That’s worth all this trouble and worry?

That is so pressing that wait we cannot?
Why do we rush so, and scramble?
Isn’t scenery we peas by the side of the roed
Worth more thtn a glance as we amble?

Why think you God ever pleced all this here–
The trees, and the fertile green valley,
The birds, and the insects, the sunshine and clouds–
Did He squander all this on an alley?

No! This Main Street of Life is important to Him–
We shouldn’t regard it too lightly;
If the Land after death is no fairer than this,
‘Tis a long, long way from unsightly.

He meant, as I see it, that we take our time,
And glory in His earthly beauty;
He meant we should live here with eyes opened wide,
Finding more in our lives than just duty.

So let’s take the time while we heve it yet here
To look st God ‘s work by the Highway;
For this is a part of Ilia Kingdom, down here–
And as truly all His as the Skyway …

What will we find at the End of the Road
When we’re three score and ten or eleven?
Since the God planned the Ending Who laid out the Road,
No flaw shall we find in His Heaven.

Fin. Ab, July 26-1942
(Last two lines changed 6-22-43)

by Ray Romine Sunday, July 26, 1942

What will we find at the End of the Road,
Life’s Highway we’re heedlessly spurning?
What waits us there of an import so great
That we waste ourselves racing and yearning?

Will the Christian discover the heaven he’s earned,
Toward which his whole life’s been directed?
Will the robber be robbed of his ill-gotten gain–
An end which he’d rather expected?

Will the seeker of Peace be where wars are not fought;
Will the truculent one find his quota?
Will the searcher for wealth find him rubies and gold;
Will the beggar be worth an iota?

Will the power-mad magnate be king at the end,
Will the angler discover good fishing?
In brief, will we each one encounter the thing
For which he’s been scrounging and wishing?

We’ve never been told just what Heaven is like–
It’s not far to find us the reason:
Each human would clamor for one of his own
With his pastime, ambition, or season!

So let’s have some faith in the God of All Things:
In His hands let’s place the forthcoming;
With the past and the present He’s done pretty well;
The future–won’t He keep it humming??

by Ray Romine Friday, July 31, 1942

Full many a race he has won
Who, ignored when the winner was picked,
Relied on his pluck instead of on luck,
And was too dumb to know he was licked!

by Ray Romine Tuesday, July 24, 1945

Whenever I expect the worst,
My blessings well up fit to burst;
But when I’m unsuspecting, find
The worst- -a day or so behind.

by Ray Romine Monday, December 18, 1950