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The Wants of an Old-Fashioned Girl in a Modern World
I have watched with wide eyes
As my Native Land has alter’d
On a steady decline, towards possible demise.
The stars above still shine bright,
Ne’er fading, they’ve been gleaming there
When our Fathers defied tyranny with liberty’s might.
But scarce now do the countrymen and women raise
Their heads to Freedom’s gleam in the Heavens
I kneel upon the ground with burning soul, and weep
For young America in which I live, whose heart has darkened
Like the ones yonder overseas, their luster begun to seep
Away into the mist of the past.
Hear this little prayer of mine, solemn and wistful,
To the Mercy of our Keeper, who holds America from a fast
Descent. Call them archaic, idealistic, naïve—
The supplicant cares not a trifle.
Sweet home cannot shield a conscious girl
From the troubles that fall upon even the innocent.
A Parent’s hand cannot turn aside the swirl
Of a loosening world. My Wish from my soul
This girlish soul of mine—is to walk out
From the haven of my native heath, to in whole
Behold only the bright surface of outside
And remain untouched by the ghastly underneath.
I desire that I see the bad for a promising spot
Of Change, and the good a boon
To be further improved. Nothing would blot
Chaste thoughts and heart. Nothing would set
My spirit a-quiver with the shadow and chill of evil.
This Present Darkness would flee, never to be met
Again. Loose morals would transform into a populace
Embracing the virtues and ethics of old.
I yearn to discover, my friends and self
The Beautiful gift of true Love
And forever devotion. Cast away to a scorned shelf
The transient ardor this generation is so rapt with.
I want a tender word to ring true in my ear
To find the sweet joy so often titled a myth.
I want a Gentle-Man who does not run in the shallow
River of popular adoration and comfort.
I hope that a higher ambition, dream and fire
Shall replace the current focus on the Now.
What shall come of us, if a youth turns the future into satire
With their hollow joys and empty pursuits?
When most adults complacently accept what is, is,
What’s not is not. Technology supplants the fruits
Of labor and drive. Clever, comely lies believed more readily
Than Truth of yore that once, greater numbers perceived.
But I must face the dark, must see the night
Coming on, and hope for a speedy dawn.
The gilded surface with its dwindling firelight
Cannot hide a larger heap of ashes that constantly grows.
One cannot walk on a path filled with holes.
Sight gives the knowledge of the furrows
Before a stumble, and a Lantern’s shine
Can reach farthest into the shadow-filled nooks.
Penumbras will fall, storms do come,
Hapless days can torment one who wants
The good to always stay. I want the rain to keep from
My dreaming head. I want change to stay far
From the threshold of my life. I want family to always
Be close by, for comfort and cherishment. Death should not mar
The harmony of this home. Nor should romance come
Till I’m good and ready, if it does reach into my path.
Would I fall for someone till death do us part,
He would be ideal, valiant, a figure
Who could match the measure and art
Of Washington and Lee, in courage and virtue
But human too, of course, Molded by God’s hands,
Who feels and can suffer the trials of life, and rue
He would not become prey of. We would lead each other
In hope, peace, truth and love on earth (till death do us part).
What is, is not what it seems to be.
What’s not, is what really needs
To be seen, in all its blatant, bare verity.
A Third Great Awakening ought to emerge
And startle the people from their sleep, jar them
From their oblivion. Give them sight, give at least a verge
Of Sense and understanding. May they turn from the side of this abyss
And return to the safe valley where we ought to remain.
I pray that we will remember the stories of history,
And what these tales foreordained.
Those fallen nations—it is no mystery—
They collapsed into a prison of pagan thought and eternal shame.
Must we follow their lead, into this the mist
That never lifts, that eclipses even the former glory and fame?
No, America—may your youth ever value integrity, your people
Love truth and never trail after Greece and Rome.
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