Max Ehrmann

Desiderata

Desiderata

And Other Poems

By

Max Ehrmann

(1872–1945)

Table of Contents

About Desiderata

Desiderata

A Prayer

Reforming Oneself

Whatever Else You Do

Dark Days

Wanderers

Love Someone

The Human Heart

I Go My Way

Happiness

Life

A Still Soul

About Desiderata

(Extracted from the Wikipedia entry on Desiderata at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desiderata)

“Desiderata” (Latin for “desired things”, plural of desideratum) is an inspirational prose poem about attaining happiness in life. It was first copyrighted in 1927 by Max Ehrmann.

In the 1960s, it was widely circulated without attribution to Ehrmann, sometimes with the claim that it was found in Saint Paul’s Church, Baltimore, Maryland, and that it had been written in 1692 (the year of the founding of Saint Paul’s). Nevertheless, the estate of Ehrmann has kept various editions of the work in print. A spoken-word recording of the essay was made by Les Crane and reached #8 on the Billboard magazine charts in late 1971.

At least one court case has held the poem to be forfeited to the public domain because of distribution during and before World War II, but other cases have ruled that the assignee, through Ehrmann’s heirs, holds the purchased copyright.

History

The author is Max Ehrmann, a poet and lawyer from Terre Haute, Indiana, who lived from 1872 to 1945. It has been reported that Desiderata was inspired by an urge that Ehrmann wrote about in his diary:

I should like, if I could, to leave a humble gift—a bit of chaste prose that had caught up some noble moods.

Around 1959, the Rev. Frederick Kates, the rector of Saint Paul’s Church in Baltimore, Maryland, used the poem in a collection of devotional materials he compiled for his congregation. (Some years earlier he had come across a copy of Desiderata.) At the top of the handout was the notation, “Old Saint Paul’s Church, Baltimore A.D. 1692.”

As the material was handed from one friend to another, the authorship became clouded. Copies with the “Old Saint Paul’s Church” notation were printed and distributed liberally in the years that followed. It is perhaps understandable that a later publisher would interpret this notation as meaning that the poem itself was found in Old Saint Paul’s Church, and that it had been written in 1692. This notation no doubt added to the charm and historic appeal of the poem, despite the fact that the actual language in the poem suggests a more modern origin. The poem was popular prose for the various spiritual movements of the 1960s and 70s.

When Adlai Stevenson died in 1965, a guest in his home found a copy of Desiderata near his bedside and discovered that Stevenson had planned to use it in his Christmas cards. The publicity that followed gave widespread fame to the poem, as well as the mistaken relationship to Saint Paul’s Church.

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,

and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others,

even to the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter,

for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;

it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,

for the world is full of trickery.

But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;

many persons strive for high ideals,

and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.

Neither be cynical about love;

for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment

it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,

gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.

But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.

Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars;

you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you,

no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be.

And whatever your labors and aspirations,

in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams,

it is still a beautiful world.

Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

A Prayer

Let me do my work each day; and if the darkened hours of despair overcome me, may I not forget the strength that comforted me in the desolation of other times.

May I still remember the bright hours that found me walking over the silent hills of my childhood, or dreaming on the margin of a quiet river, when a light glowed within me, and I promised my early God to have courage amid the tempests of the changing years.

Spare me from bitterness and from the sharp passions of unguarded moments. May I not forget that poverty and riches are of the spirit.

Though the world knows me not, may my thoughts and actions be such as shall keep me friendly with myself.

Lift up my eyes from the earth, and let me not forget the uses of the stars. Forbid that I should judge others lest I condemn myself.

Let me not follow the clamor of the world, but walk calmly in my path.

Give me a few friends who will love me for what I am; and keep ever burning before my vagrant steps the kindly light of hope.

And though age and infirmity overtake me, and I come not within sight of the castle of my dreams, teach me still to be thankful for life, and for time’s olden memories that are good and sweet; and may the evening’s twilight find me gentle still.

Reforming Oneself

It has been raining again. I have been indoors, meditating on the shortcomings of life.

I wish there were more kindly persons in the world. Our competitive life develops selfishness and unkindness.

I am determined to do something about it. I cannot hope to convert many persons. To convert one person, I shall do well.

I will begin with the person I know best—myself.

When it rains and one is much indoors one is likely to meditate on the shortcomings of life.

Let me think—how shall I make myself kind, gentle considerate?

I do believe it has stopped raining.

I can go out now. I’ll go and shoot on the archery range.

I’ll not bother to reform myself today. Perhaps tomorrow—if it is raining, and I must stay indoors, and meditate on the shortcomings of life.

Whatever Else You Do

Whatever else you do or forbear,

impose upon yourself the task of happiness;

and now and then abandon yourself

to the joy of laughter.

And however much you condemn

the evil in the world, remember that the

world is not all evil; that somewhere

children are at play, as you yourself in the

old days; that women still find joy

in the stalwart hearts of men;

And that men, treading with restless feet

their many paths, may yet find refuge

from the storms of the world in the cheerful

house of love.

Dark Days

What fool shall say, “My days are fair,

God’s in his world and all is well,”

When half mankind shrieks in despair

Worse than in Dante’s flaming hell!

I cannot sing in happy mood

While hostile armies take their toll.

On these dark days I toil and brood

With starless midnight in my soul.

And yet, O World, O Life, O God!

I find myself, jest as the fool,

Believing in thy chastening rod,

Believing still that love must rule.

Wanderers

A clear, cool night. I have been reading, but the thoughts of man do not solace me.

I raised the curtain and looked at the moon, clear and silvery; and I brushed some of the unrest out of my mind.

I know all the theories of the moon.

There have been times when the symbols of science have robbed me of some of its mystery and charm.

But no one can explain the moon any more than a grasshopper can explain me.

In youth, the moon promised too much.

But now I understand better; that was not the moon’s fault.

Also the moon and I have this in common:

We both are wanderers across the night.

Love Someone

Love some one—

in God’s name love some one—

for this is the bread of the inner life,

without which a part of you will starve and die;

and though you feel you must be stern,

even hard, in your life of affairs,

make for yourself at least a little corner,

somewhere in the great world,

where you may unbosom and be kind.

The Human Heart

I journeyed from university to university, and I saw everywhere the past rebuilt before the eyes of young men and young women—Egypt, Greece, Rome; language, architecture, laws—saw the earth and sky explained, and the habits of the body—

Everywhere chairs of this and that, largely endowed.

But nowhere saw I a chair of the human heart.

I Go My Way

All round is haste, confusion, noise.

For power and wealth men stretch the day

From dawn till dusk.

But quietly I go my way.

For glitter, show, to taunt the crowd,

Desire-tossed in wild dismay,

Men sell their souls.

But quietly I go my way.

The green of all the fields is mine;

The stars, the night, the wind at play,

A peaceful heart, while quietly

I go my way.

Happiness

To be without desire is to be content. But contentment is not happiness. And in contentment there is no progress. Happiness is to desire something, to work for it, and to obtain at least a part of it. In the pursuit of beloved labor the busy days pass cheerfully employed, and the still nights in peaceful sleep.

For labor born of desire is not drudgery, but manly play. Success brings hope, hope inspires fresh desire, and desire gives zest to life and joy to labor. This is true whether your days be spent in the palaces of the powerful or in some little green byway of the world.

Therefore, while yet you have the strength, cherish a desire to do some useful work in your little corner of the world, and have the steadfastness to labor. For this is the way to the happy life; with health and endearing ties, it is the way to the glorious life.

Life

I sat with the stars on the hill of life

And looked at the world below.

I ran with the winds where winds begin

And followed them where they blow.

I lay by the sea on the beaten rock

And rode on the farthest wave,

I watched by a child on its night of birth

And followed it to its grave.

And love in the still of the star-flecked night,

When earth was all strewn with gold,

Has lifted my heart like the chords of song

Oft sung in the world of old.

And though I have not understood all this,

Made up a laugh and a wail,

I think that the God of the world knows all,

And someday will tell the tale.

A Still Soul

Maybe you have a still soul that

goes murmurless like water

in the deep of rivers;

And perchance you wander

silent amid the din of the world’s

grinding barter like one journeying

in strange lands.

You, too, with the still soul,

have your mission, for beneath the dashing,

noisy waves must ever run the silent waters

that give the tide its course.

The End