Concentration: The Road to Success by Henry H. Brown - Read the Complete Text for free at NewThoughtLibrary.com

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Henry H. Brown's

Concentration: The Road to Success

Book page numbers, along with the number to the left of the .htm extension match the page numbers of the original books to ensure easy use in citations for research papers and books

Introductory - What is Success? - The "Why" of the Book - Concentration a Natural Process - Paying Attention - Some Channels of Waste - "I Am Life" - How Shall I Concentrate - The Will - Habits - "In the Silence" - Compensation of Concentration - With Eyes See Not - The Ideal - Prayer - Desire versus Wish - Mental Poise - Methods of Concentration - Directions for Practice - How To Do It - Some Practical Suggestions - Self-Study and the Law of Life - Special Desires versus Principles - My One Rule:-Agreement - Love - Opinions and Methods of Others - A Parting Word -

Twenty-third Psalm and other poetic, and therefore wise passages of scripture are familiar, so I do not quote them. But I will give you these "boiled down" expressions from the poets for memorizing, that the mental pictures they create may become in you physical manifestations. This little poem tells you that the realm in which you really live is never perfectly reflected in the objective life. So regard it a lesson how to live the Ideal here and now.

I think that the song that's sweetest,
Is one that is never sung-
But lies at the heart of the singer,
Too grand for mortal tongue,
And sometimes in the silence
Between the day and the night,
He fancies that its measures
Bid farewell to the light.
A picture that is fairer,
Than all that have a part,
Among the master-pieces,
In the marble halls of art,
Is one that haunts the painter,
In all his golden dreams,
And to the painter only
A real picture seems.
The noblest grandest poem,
Lies not in blue and gold,
Among the treasured volumes
The rosewood bookshelves hold;
But in bright and glowing vision
It comes to the poet's brain,
But when he tries to grasp it,
He finds his efforts vain.
A fairy hand from dream-land
Beckons us here and there,
And when we strive to grasp it
It vanishes into air.
And thus our fair Ideal
Floats always just before,
And we in love and longing,
Reach for it ever more.