The World is Still all Right I say; But Tis us Must Ensure it Stays so.

       Be honest, kindly, simple, true;

      Seek good in all, scorn but pretence;

      Whatever sorrow come to you,

      Believe in Life’s Beneficence!

The World’s all right; serene I sit,

And cease to puzzle over it.

There’s much that’s mighty strange, no doubt;

But Nature-the Creator- knows what it’s all about;

And in a million years or so

We’ll know more than to-day we know.

Old Evolution’s under way —

      What ho! the World’s all right, I say.

Could things be other than they are?

All’s in its place, from mote to star.

The thistledown that flits and flies

Could drift no hair-breadth otherwise.

What is, must be; with rhythmic laws

All Nature chimes, Effect and Cause.

The sand-grain and the sun obey —

      What ho! the World’s all right, I say.

Just try to get the Cosmic touch,

The sense that “you” don’t matter much.

A million stars are in the sky;

A million planets plunge and die;

A million million men are sped;

A million million wait ahead.

Each plays his part and has his day —

      What ho! the World’s all right, I say.

Just try to get the Chemic view:

A million million lives made “you”,.

In lives a million you will be

Immortal down Eternity;

Immortal on this earth to range,

With never death, but ever change.

You always were, and will be aye —

      What ho! the World’s all right, I say.

Be glad! And do not blindly grope

For Truth that lies beyond our scope:

A sober plot informeth all

Of Life’s uproarious carnival.

Your day is such a little one,

A gnat that lives from sun to sun;

Yet gnat and you have parts to play —

      What ho! the World’s all right, I say.

And though it’s written from the start,

Just act your best your little part.

Just be as happy as you can,

And serve your kind, and die — a man.

Just live the good that in you lies,

And seek no guerdon of the skies;

Just make your Heaven here, to-day —

      What ho! the World’s all right, I say.

Remember! in Creation’s swing

The Race and not the man’s the thing.

There’s battle, murder, sudden death,

And pestilence, with poisoned breath.

Yet quick forgotten are such woes;

On, on the stream of Being flows.

Truth, Beauty, Love uphold their sway —

      What ho! the World’s all right, I say.

The World’s all right; serene I sit,

And joy that I am part of it;

And put my trust in Nature’s plan,

And try to aid her all I can;

Content to pass, if in my place

I’ve served the uplift of the Race.

Truth! Beauty! Love! O Radiant Day —

      What ho! the World’s all right, I say.

So, Light up your pipe again, old chum, and sit awhile with me;

I've got to watch the bannock bake -- how restful is the air!

You'd little think that we were somewhere north of Sixty-three,

Though where I don't exactly know, and don't precisely care.

The man-size mountains palisade us round on every side;

The river is a-flop with fish, and ripples silver-clear;

The midnight sunshine brims yon cleft -- we think it's the Divide;

We'll get there in a month, maybe, or maybe in a year.

It doesn't matter, does it, pal? We're of that breed of men

With whom the world of wine and cards and women disagree;

Your trouble was a roofless game of poker now and then,

And "raising up my elbow", that's what got away with me.

We're merely "Undesirables", artistic more or less;

My horny hands are Chopin-wise; you quote your Browning well;

And yet we're fooling round for gold in this damned wilderness:

The joke is, if we found it, we would both go straight to hell.

Well, maybe we won't find it -- and at least we've got the "life".

We're both as brown as berries, and could wrestle with a bear:

(That bannock's raising nicely, pal; just jab it with your knife.)

Fine specimens of manhood they would reckon us out there.

It's the tracking and the packing and the poling in the sun;

It's the sleeping in the open, it's the rugged, unfaked food;

It's the snow-shoe and the paddle, and the campfire and the gun,

And when I think of what I was, I know that it is good.

This is my dream of Whitehorse

When fifty years have sped,

As after the Rogers' Banquet

I lay asleep in my bed.

I tottered along the sidewalk

That was made of real cement;

A skyscraper loomed above me,

Where once I remembered a tent.

I heard the roar of a trolley,

And I stumbled out of the way;

I dodged a few automobiles,

And I felt I was getting quite gay.

I thought I'd cross the Yukon,

Over the big steel bridge;

I heard the roar of the stamp mills

Up on the western ridge.

Crushing the quartz from bullion,

And borne on the evening breeze

I sniffed the fumes of the smelter

And the sulphur made me sneeze.

So I thought I'd go to Ear Lake Park

Where nature was fresh and fair;

('Twas donated by J.P.Whitney,

The multi-millionaire.)

Out past the smiling suburbs,

The villas with gardens a flower,

The factories down by the rapids

Run by the water power.

I took a car to the Canyon

And transferred up to the Park

And I sat on a bench by the fountain

Feeling as old as the Ark.

I sighed for the ancient landmarks,

The men that I used to know,

Till I stumbled against a statue,

And spelled out the name - Bob Lowe.

A little chap who saw me

Said with evident pride:

"That is a bust of my grandpa:

It's twenty years since he died.

And if you think I'm fooling,

Ask that boy and you'll see -

He's little Billy Grainger, my playmate,

And that's little Barney McGee."

Then I turned once more to the city,

With its streets like canyons a roar;

And the lights of Taylor & Drury's

Colossal department store:

The eighteen storey steel palace

Where once stood the White Pass Hotel,

The silent rush of its elevators

The clamour of bell upon bell.

And over there at the depot

The hurry, the crush and the din,

The flyer just starting for Dawson,

The bullion express coming in.

The business blocks all a bustle,

The theatres all alight,

The Home of Indigent Sourdoughs

Endowed by Armstrong and White.

And everywhere were strangers,

And I thought in the midst of these

Of Old Bill Clark in his homespun,

And debonair Mr.Breze:

And Fish, and Doc and the Deacon,

And the solo bunch at the club -

Now grown to a stately mansion

That would make the old place look dub.

It was all so real, so lifelike,

I awoke like a man in a fog,

So I shed a few tears in the darkness,

And groped for the hair of the dog.

This was my dream of Whitehorse

When fifty years had sped,

 What ho! the World’s all right, I say.

As I lay asleep here in my bed.

All That Nature has Created, for me.

I am just a lonesome traveller,

living in this world of man’s sin.

Seen bad, good, the ugly;

where does it all begin?

I’ve been taken advantage of,

been lied to, and been broke.

had pockets full of tin.

Been cheated on, dog hungry, stuffed full,

been left in a ditch,

my hat caved in.

Only Nature and I,

know the Places I’ve bin.

My name ,

it’s been dragged through mud ,

and more.

I’ve been through the school, of “Hard Knocks“

more than once, more than twice.

Every time, I just pick myself up,

dust myself off,

and start all over again.

Nature created, I am not self-made,

father gave life, mother carried me.
Who I am, society shaped. 

I’ve been around a a goodly while,

Come a long way;

still have a long way to go.

Should I live ten thousand years,
I never will meet, I never will see,

all that nature has created, for me.

~~Al (Alex-Alexander) D Girvan.

There Will be Peace on This Earth for you and me, Dear Nature I Pray

Oh well, I'm tired and so weary but I must show strong

Till dear Nature comes and calls, calls me away, oh yes

Well the morning's so bright and the lamp is the light

And the night, night is as black as the sea, oh yes

There will be peace in the valley, politics gone to stay

There will be peace in the valley, to my creator, I do pray 

There'll be no sadness, no sorrow, no trouble, trouble can’t you see.

There will be peace in the valley for you and me

Well the bear will be gentle and the wolf will be tame

And the lion shall lay down by the lamb, oh yes

And the terrorist, irrationals of the world should be led by a mere child

That we may be changed, changed from the savages that we are, oh yes

There will be peace in the valley for all someday

There will be peace on this earth for you and me, dear Nature I pray 

There'll be no sadness, no sorrow and no trouble, trouble you will see

When all politiccal issues are gone from the world, of you and me.© Al (Alex-Alexander) D. Girvan. All rights reserved.

Life, Al (Alex-Alexander) D Girvan

Life,

Nature gives us the privilege to look, to see;

then, the responsibility to move on.

Life,

 though, parents, past generations are easily forgotten

it is not a dagger soaked with blood.

Life,

not for hostility or revenge;

not about religion- man’s image of a God.

Life,

 The big deal event;

not to be driven by greed, war, or strife.

Life,

it can be harsh some find it brutal;

just too easy to take the wrong path.

Life,

I have my ghosts; you will have yours;

the heart has its own memory.

Life,

Come into it with nothing, leave with nothing.

Nature says you can never be alone.

Love what you have been given,

if it is just for a little while;

That is life.

© Al (Alex-Alexander) D Girvan. All rights reserved

My Serenity Prayer

My Serenity Prayer

For every ailment under the sun,

there is a remedy, or there is none.

If there be one, try to find it;

if there be none, never mind it.

If there is a remedy, when trouble strikes,

what reason is there for dejection?

And, if there is no help for it;

what use is there in being glum?

So,

 May Nature, the Creator, give to us:

Courage- to change what must be altered.

Insight- to know the one from the other.

Serenity- to accept what cannot be helped.
Strength- to accept all hardships as the pathway to peace;
to take, as is Nature’s plan, this sinful world;
as it is; not as I would have it.

Wisdom-to live one day at a time; enjoy one moment at a time.
Trust-that Nature will make all things right;
if I only surrender to the Creator’s Will;
so that I may be reasonably happy in this life;
and, supremely happy as is Natures wish;
forever, and ever, in the next.

©Al (Alex-Alexander) D. Girvan. All rights reserved.

Whatever Became of Laurentia?

Across the ocean in Avalonia, Did you ever wonder how the world shakes?

Go find a map of merry old Scotland.

Okay, now then you have a good look.

Glasgow is not quite in the Scottish Highland,

Another question; was it close enough, for some giant snakes?

North of Glasgow is a rugged, once hostile region, the Highland;

for Scotland is at the north end of the—British United Kingdom.

An intriguing feature of geography,

 Inverness and Fort William connected by a straight line; in Nature’s Kingdom;

along this line lies Loch Ness, the second largest most famous lake in Scotland.

Loch Ness highly elongated in its shape,

Is a series of valleys, known collectively as-- Great Glen.

Cutting right across Scotland from one coast to the other;

bisecting the craggy highlands rising on either side, rather striking, the Great Glen.

From this true fact there is no escape.

There in the Earth's crust; is a major fault; is one wise to long terry?

It does not stop in Scotland;

the land north-west has slipped northwards, relative to the land south-east.

So as well, the fault runs through Ireland

straight through the bay near Londonderry.

Okay, go even further afield; let us look at north-western Europe.

The mountains of Scotland; though it may seem strange,

that whole big chain running up the back of Norway;

 with a tiny bit of imagination, them, you can view,

continuing across the North Sea.

Scotland and Scandinavia are part of the same mountain range.

Produced during the Caledonian orogeny; an immense range of mountains,

Caledonia is the ancient Roman name for Scotland,

While orogeny is a technical term combining the Greek oros, meaning mountains,

and genus, meaning generation;

 though to you the words they sound strange;

Takes generation to create a new or newfound land.

Generation of the Caledonia and Scandinavia mountains occurred roughly 400 million years ago.

At that time, there was an ocean known as the Iapetus.

 Don't go looking for it on a modern map, because it doesn't exist anymore.

The continents were so different, that we can not, sensibly,

refer to them with names familiar to us, furthermore.

The continent of Laurentia, on one side of the Iapetus.

On the other side were two landmasses known as Baltica and Avalonia.

The movements of plate tectonics slowly- but inevitably,

 caused the shrinkage of the Iapetus Ocean.

Laurentia moved closer to Baltica and Avalonia,

 until the fateful period of history;

 when these continents collided.

In exactly the same way as the collision of India with Asia has more recently produced the crumpling of the Earth's crust that we know as the Himalaya Mountains.

 Baltica and Avalonia were essentially the forerunners of what is now Europe.

 The mountains of the Caledonian orogeny can be seen today, weathered and eroded into less spectacular peaks than the Himalayan heights which they may well have reached shortly after their birth, running down the spine of Scandinavia, across Scotland, and...

What became of Laurentia?

Look west...Look for mountains.

The Appalachian Mountains.

 That enormous range of mountains running diagonally across eastern North America. You can mentally extend them north-east, up through New Brunswick, across the Gulf of St Lawrence, across Newfoundland, and then...

 you are forced to a stop by the Atlantic Ocean.

Or are you…

Imagine the ocean isn't there.

Slide Newfoundland across to nestle next to Ireland.

 Then the Appalachian Mountains can continue;

 right through the Scottish Highlands,

 and on into Norway.

We were looking for Laurentia.

We've found it.

 Laurentia is North America.© Al (Alex-Alexander) D Girvan. All rights reserved.