Be the Best of Whatever You Are by Douglas Malloch and other Poems

Be the Best of Whatever You Are by Douglas Malloch and other Poems.

Be the Best of Whatever You – Douglas Malloch (May 5, 1877 – July 2, 1938) was an American poet, short-story writer, and Associate Editor of American Lumberman, a trade paper in Chicago.

He became known as a “Lumberman’s poet” both locally and nationally. He is noted for writing Round River Drive and “Be the Best of Whatever You Are” in addition to many other creations. He was commissioned to write the Michigan State Song.

Brother Malloch, as he was called, was born in Muskegon, Michigan which was known as a center of the lumbering industry.

He grew up amidst the forest, logging camps, sawmills, and lumberyards. He became famous among the people of the twentieth-century involved in the lumbering industry.

He married Helen Miller, a newswoman who was the founder of the National Federation of Press Women.

Below are some poems by Douglas Malloch, he was an amazing poet and lumber. The poems below are all written by Douglas Malloch. We hope you enjoy your read.

1. Be the Best of Whatever You Are

If you can’t be a pine on the top of the hill,
Be a scrub in the valley — but be
The best little scrub by the side of the rill;
Be a bush if you can’t be a tree.

If you can’t be a bush be a bit of the grass,
And some highway happier make;
If you can’t be a muskie then just be a bass —
But the liveliest bass in the lake!

We can’t all be captains, we’ve got to be crew,
There’s something for all of us here,
There’s big work to do, and there’s lesser to do,
And the task you must do is near.

If you can’t be a highway then just be a trail,
If you can’t be the sun be a star;
It isn’t by size that you win or you fail —
Be the best of whatever you are!
– Poem by Douglas Malloch

2. It’s Fine Today

Sure, this world is full of trouble
I ain’t said it ain’t.
Lord, I’ve had enough and double
Reason for complaint;
Rain and storm have come to fret me,
Skies are often gray;
Thorns and brambles have beset me
On the road — but say,
Ain’t it fine today?

What’s the use of always weepin’,
Making trouble last?
What’s the use of always keepin’
Thinkin’ of the past?
Each must have his tribulation —
Water with his wine;
Life, it ain’t no celebration,
Trouble? — I’ve had mine —
But today is fine!

It’s today that I am livin’,
Not a month ago.
Havin’; losin’; takin’; givin’;
As time wills it so.
Yesterday a cloud of sorrow
Fell across the way,
It may rain again tomorrow,
It may rain — but say,
Ain’t it fine today?
– Poem by Douglas Malloch

3. Echoes

Fine men have walked this way before,
Whatever Lodge your Lodge may be;
Whoever stands before the door,
The sacred arch of Masonry,
Stands where the wise, the great, the good,
In their own time and place have stood.

You are not Brother just with these,
Your friends and neighbors; you are kin
With Masons down the centuries;
This room that now you enter in
Has felt the tread of many feet,
For here all Masonry you meet.

You walk the path the great have trod,
The great in heart, the great in mind,
Who looked through Masonry to God,
And looked through God to all mankind
Learned more than word or sign or grip,
Learned Man’s and God’s relationship.

To him who sees, who understands,
How mighty Masonry appears!
A Brotherhood of many lands,
A fellowship of many years,
A Brotherhood so great, so vast,
Of all the Craft of all the past.

And so I say a sacred trust
Is yours to share, is yours to keep;
I hear the voice of men of dust,
I hear the step of men asleep;
And down the endless future, too,
Your own shall echo after you.
– Poem by Douglas Malloch

4. Always A Mason

Let no king quite put off his crown!
I still would have him kingly when
In some old inn the king sat down
To banquet with his serving-men.
I love a mild and merry priest,
Whom Brothers toast, and neighbors prod;
Yet would I have him, at the feast,
A little of the man of God.

So with a Mason: I would see
Him somewhat of a Mason still,
Though far from Lodge-rooms he may be,
In court, or counting-house, or mill.
Whatever garment he may doff,
What mark Masonic lay aside,
I would not have him quite put off
The Craft he lately glorified.

A soldier is a soldier, though
He lays the sword aside awhile.
The time, the place, I do not know
Man may not serve, or may not smile.
I know no moment anywhere,
Whatever place the place may be,
A Mason may not always wear
A little of his Masonry.
– Poem by Douglas Malloch

5. Building

Brick by brick the Masons builded
Till the highest cross was gilded
With the glory of the sun,
Till the noble task was done.
Step by step and one by one
Wall and rafter, roof and spire
Men were lifting ever higher,
Not in some mysterious way —
With the tasks of every day.

Architects may do their dreaming,
See their visioned turrets gleaming
High above them in the skies;
Yet the wisdom of the wise
Cannot make one roof arise —
Hearts must sing and hands must labor,
Man must work beside his neighbor,
Brick on brick and toil on toil
Building upward from the soil.

So we build a lodge or nation,
On the firmly fixed foundation
Of a flag or craft or creed;
But on top of that we need
Many a noble thought and deed,
Day by day and all the seven,
Building slowly up to heaven,
Till our lives the lives shall seem
Of the Master Builder’s dream.
– Poem by Douglas Malloch

6. Make Me Mellow

Some would have Spring within the heart,
But I, some mellow month in mine
Like old October: flowers depart,
And even youth must resign —
But always, brothers, there are some
To whom no Winters ever come:
Always October skies are theirs,
Even amid life’s wintry cares.

And I would have my soul look the same:
I cannot keep the look of youth,
But how October maples flame —
Age takes our beauty, gives us truth,
Age takes our wit, and makes us wise,
Age gives us life’s October skies
And old October’s mellower days,
A better time a thousand ways.

God make me mellow! Make me not
Sudden as Summer, brief as Spring.
I would not blow too cold, too hot,
I would keep kind through ev’rything.
I may give others less than flow’rs
Of flattery, but in their hours
Of grief, of trouble and of need
May I bring rather fruits to feed.
– Poem by Douglas Malloch

Douglas Malloch was well known and his poems will always be remembered, his works of art will always be written in the sands of time. The above poems are only a few of his works. We do hope you enjoyed your read.

Daily Time Poems.