Shaker Commonplace Book

My Best. Julia K May.

I may perform no deed of great renown No glorious act, to millions manifest, Yet, in my little labors up and down I`ll do my best.

I may not paint a perfect master piece. Nor carve a statue, by the world confest A miracle of art, yet will not cease To do my best.

My name is not upon the rolls of fame, Tis on the page of common life imprest But I'll keep marking, marking, just the same And do my best.

Sometimes, I sing a very simple song And send it outward, to the east or west Alltho in silentness, it rolls along I`ll do my best.

Some times I write a very little hymn The joy within me cannot be repressed Tho no one reads, the letters are so dim I do my best.

And if I see some fellow traveler rise Far, far above me, still with quiet trust I keep on climbing, climbing toward the skies And do my best.

My very best, and if, at close of day, Worn out, I sit me down a while to rest I still will mend my garments, if I may, And do my best.

It may not be the beautiful and grand But I must try to be so very careful, lest I fail to do whats put into my hand My very best.

Better and better, every stitch must be The last, a little stronger than the rest. Good Master! help my eyes. That I may see, To do my best.

Secret Thoughts. Ella Wheeler.

I hold it true, that thots are things Endowed with bodies breath and wings. And that we send them forth to fill The world with good results _ or ill.

That which we call our secret thought Speeds to the earth's remotest spot. And leaves its blessings or its woes Like tracks behind it, as it goes.

It is God's law. Remember it In your still chamber, as you sit With thots you would not dare have known And yeat, make comrades when alone.

These thots have life; and they will fly And leave their impress bye and bye. Like some marsh breeze, whose poisoned breath Breathes into homes, its fevered breath.

And, after you have quite forgot Or all out grown some vanished thot.

Back to your mind to make its home A dove, or raven, it will come.

Then let your secret thots be fair They have a vital part and share In shaping worlds, and moulding fatesGod's system is so intricate.

Encouragement. Edith Willis.

What tho' we fail? through failure The spirit learns to rise; Upon the soul we bear the marks Of every sacrifice.

That which we dream of doing, That which we wish to be, That which our prayer is pleading With pure intensity: _

This is the truest nature, The God like and the strong Struggling, and yearning upward Thro' failure, and thro' wrong.

Listen. Ella Wheeler.

Whoever you are, as you read this Whatever your trouble or grief, I want you to know and to heed this The day draweth near with relief.

No sorrow, no woe is un-ending Though heaven seems voiceless & dumb; So sure as your voice is ascending So surely, an answer will come.

Whatever temptation is near you Whose eyes on this simple verse fall Remember, good angels will hear you And help you to stand, if you call. Tho' stunned with despair I beseech you Whatever your losses, your need, Believe, when these printed words reach you Believe you were born to succeed. You are stronger this minute, I tell you Than any unfortunate fate! And the coveted prise -- you can win it Whilte life lasts; 'tis never too late.