Alpha Poems

By Sir. William Ernest Henry

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever Gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of Circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of Chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

By Carlyle Straub

The test of a man is the fight that he makes,

The grit that he daily shows,

The way he stands upon his feet,

And takes life’s numerous bumps and blows.

A coward can smile when there’s naught to fear.

And nothing his progress bars,

But it takes a man to stand and cheer,

While the other fellow stars.

It isn’t the victory after all

But the fight that a Brother makes.

A man when driven against the wall,

Still stands erect and takes the blows of fate

with his head held high,

bleeding and bruised and pale,

Is the man who will win and fate defied,

For he isn’t afraid to fail!

It’s the hurdles you mount and the breaks you get,

And the shocks your courage stands;

The hour of sorrow and vain regret,

For the prize that escapes your hands,

That test your mettle and prove your worth;

It isn’t the blows you deal

But the blows you take on this good old earth,

That show if your stuff is real.

By Bro. Sidney P. Brown

GOODWILL is the monarch of this house

Men, unacquainted, enter, shake hands,

exchange greetings, and depart friends.

Cordiality exists among all who abide within.

I am the eminent expression of friendship.

Character and temperament change under my dominant power.

Lives, once touched by me become tuned,

and are thereafter, amiable, kindly, fraternal.

I inspire the musician to play noble sentiments,

and assist the chemist to convert ungenerous personalities

into individuals of great worth.

I destroy all ignoble impulses.

I constantly invoke principles which make for common brotherhood,

and the echo resounds in all communities,

and princely men are thereby recognized.

Education, health, music, encouragement, sympathy, laughter:

All these are species of interest given of self-invested capital.

Tired moments find me a delightful treat,

Hours of sorrow a shrine of understanding,

At all times I am faithful to the creed of companionship.

To a few I am the Castle of Dreams,

Ambitious, successful, hopeful dreams.

To many, I am the Poetic Palace

where human feeling is rhymed to celestial motives.

To the great majority,

I am the Treasury of Good Fellowship.

In fact, I am the College of Friendship;

The University of Brotherly Love;

The School for the Better Making of Men.

I AM ALPHA PHI ALPHA!

By Clinton Howell

When things go wrong, as they sometimes will,

When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill,

When the funds are low, and the debts are high,

and you you want to smile, but you have to sigh.

When care is pressing you down a bit,

Rest if you must, but don’t you quit.

Life is queer with its twist and turns

As every one of us sometimes learns,

And many a failure turns about,

When he might have won had he stuck it out;

Don’t give up though the pace seems slow,

You may succeed with another blow.

Success is failure turned inside out,

the silver tint of the clouds of doubt,

and you never can tell how close you are,

It may be near when it seems so far;

So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit,

It’s when things seem worst, that you must not quit.

By Rudyard Kipling

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 imposters 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 ’em up with wornout 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 breath 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!