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 Historical 
 Works 
 
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 OR. ROBERT WILSON BLAKESLEE 
 
COMPLETE POETICAL 
 anJ HISTORICAL WORKS 
 
 of DR. ROBERT WILSON BLAKESLEE 
 
 s»cs>cfaes»c WITH ILLUSTRATIONS ac ae s»c s»e ae s»c 
 
 C o p y I i g h t|jHE February 1913 
 
 All Rightj Reserved 
 
 Printed by 
 
 NAMPA LEADER HERALD 
 
 Nampa, Idaho 
 
-^'2 
 
 
 TO 
 
 THE MEMORY OF MY BELOVED 
 FATHER AND MOTHER 
 
 
DR. ROBERT WILSON BLAKESLEE 
 
 The Author 
 
 Photograph taken at George Washington's Home at Mt. Vernon, 
 
 showing flag pole where one was originally erected 
 
 by the "Father of our Country." 
 
PREFACE 
 
 "The Historical Poems" have met with so kind and gen- 
 erous a reception as to encourage the publication of this 
 volume. 
 
 In this book the author has aimed to give expression to 
 the trulh, that with every person, even if humble or debased, 
 there may be some good worth lifting up and praying for; 
 for the future betterment of this life, and in the world to come 
 eternal glory, where all who try will receive their final and 
 just reward. 
 
 That in each human being, though revered and seemingly 
 Immaculate, are some faults which deserve pointing out and 
 correcting, and that all circumstances of life, however trivial 
 they appear, may possess those alternations of the comic and 
 pathetic. 
 
 The good and bad, the joyful and sorrowful, upon which 
 walk the years and months and weeks and days and nights, 
 the births and deaths, of this strange and speeding world. 
 
 He would take this occasion to give a word of thanks to 
 those who have stayed with him through evil and good, sor- 
 rowful and joyful report, who will, I am sure, overlook his 
 literary faults for the sake of the truth he was laboring to 
 bring forth and who have believed — what he knows he can 
 tell — that he is honest. 
 
 With these few words of introduction, the author 
 launches this first bark upon the tide of popular opinion; 
 whets his cythe and enters once more the field of peculiar in- 
 stincts of the human race, as nature alone can provide the 
 only fundamental attribute explanatory for present-day liter- 
 ature. 
 
CHRISTMAS 
 
 'Tis Christmas Morn, our little ones, 
 We want you all to know. 
 
 The story of a New Born Babe 
 For we all love him so. 
 
 Some nineteen hundred years ago 
 
 A God that is Divine 
 Did send to earth His only Son 
 
 That He might save mankind. 
 
 This Heavenly stranger came by night 
 
 With horned ox to dwell 
 That He might save a fallen race 
 
 From awful fate called hell. 
 
 In Bethlehem this babe was placed 
 
 Upon a couch of hay. 
 For Joseph and his wife had found 
 
 There was no other way. 
 
 To Bethlehem in Palestine 
 The shepherds took one day, 
 
 The message they were given by — 
 An angel near the way. 
 
 Glad tidings now on earth is given. 
 Peace and Good Will to man. 
 
 For thus it was the angels spoke, 
 The Lord is in command. 
 
 Dear little ones be patient now, 
 
 Remember what I say. 
 That sweet little baby, Jesus Christ 
 
 Was born on Christmas day. 
 7 
 
> <^ ^ 
 
 So let the Christmas bells ring loud 
 
 Our Savior's face appear, 
 And let us strive to live aright 
 
 Throughout the comiiig year. 
 
 To manhood soon this child had grown, 
 
 In Bethany He dwelt, 
 Mt. Olive's grassy slopes He viewed, 
 
 'Twas there our sins he felt. 
 
 He many years the people taught. 
 
 And also raised the dead. 
 Five thousand people He did feed 
 
 Two fish, five loaves ot bread. 
 
 His teachings now we all should know; 
 
 The Bible truly read. 
 The Ten Commandments Moses got 
 
 The people all must heed. 
 
 Now when this Christmas day has passed. 
 
 Ere we shall seek repose. 
 May each one pray to God who gave 
 
 Us knowledge of His woes. 
 
 So let the Christmas bells ring loud 
 
 Our voices swell with glee. 
 In reverence for that little babe 
 
 Who died on Calvary. 
 
AN AMERICAN'S PLEA 
 
 Oh Kings aud Czar and Emperor, 
 Who defer the rule of right, 
 
 Is it a mark of Godly men 
 To lead this bloody fight? 
 
 Many nations now are retrograde — 
 Your carelessness the cause. 
 
 Your ever craving thirst to rule. 
 You've no respect of laws. 
 
 Your treaties are not valid now, 
 
 Your selfish ends demand. 
 You've ci'ushed a peaceful peoi)le, too. 
 
 In their most neutral land. 
 
 O, Belgians please forgive the powers, 
 
 Your fate rests on us all; 
 All righteous men throughout the world, 
 Should heed the mournful call. 
 
 Your plea is not for right alone, 
 
 You challenge every race, 
 To know the reason of this war 
 
 That crowns the world's disgrace. 
 
 The ancient ruler could not read 
 The inscription on the wall — 
 
 The Belgian could not understand 
 How Antwerp e'er could fall. 
 
 But soon her mighty walls were rent, 
 And they crumbled into dust, 
 
 All Antwerp then did weep and wail 
 Like Kings, Czar and Emperor must. 
 
 Through evolution's onward course, 
 
 From molecule to man. 
 And on through ages that must come. 
 
 That are led by human plan, 
 9 
 
— — — y r^ x — 
 
 The morbid carelessness of hate, 
 
 Envy, selfishness and strife, 
 Are sprinkled o'er the path of time, 
 
 All through our natural life. 
 
 They ne'er shall reach that shining goal, 
 Yes, they'll end but with the dead, 
 
 Eternal righteousness decreed; 
 Our true God and Maker said. 
 
 What though by military force. 
 Your lone kingdom rules the world; 
 
 And all your hated foes were slain — 
 All the other flags you furled. 
 
 Desolation, death and despair 
 
 Had traversed your land and streams. 
 
 The widows and the orphans cries 
 Would defer your noble dreams. 
 
 Are all your gallant men and homes 
 But junk scraps of wasted things, 
 
 O, should you sacrifice them all 
 To save President, Czar, and Kings? 
 
 The flowing blood from millions slain, 
 
 Will forever mar your fame. 
 The cannon's roar and brutal strife. 
 
 Drives your laurels into shame. 
 
 Ambition's pride your future goal. 
 Where your love should rule by right. 
 
 For God alone should wear the crown — 
 He will ever lead your fight. 
 
 For we all know that God is love. 
 He would lead us all aright. 
 
 O, do you think that He'd exchange, 
 Love's law, for the law of might? 
 
 10 
 
o > o 
 
 Love's law we know brings joy and peace, 
 
 Just alike to rich and poor. 
 If you should rule by war and force. 
 
 Peace and love you'll ne'er secure. 
 
 If King be wrong, and Kaiser right. 
 
 The Czar should take his flight, 
 And leave the Germans to themselves— 
 
 God always judges right. 
 
 Be not deceived, God is not mocked. 
 You have asked his power to lend; 
 
 Deceit alone can alter prayer. 
 And divert the Spirit friend. 
 
 A mockery all such prayers to Him 
 
 To stir your comrades' zeal, 
 With all your trust and faith in God 
 
 You wield the mighty steel. 
 
 Belgians could not see Antwerp's fate 
 
 One week, before her call; 
 So if by wars the nations risf 
 
 By war they'll have to fall. 
 
 Then why not lead the Christian life? 
 
 Live, be like God your aim, 
 And you'll possess an humble heart, 
 
 That brings you greater gain. 
 
 A manly course you must proclaim. 
 
 You can utter righteous pleas. 
 Speak forth from your own contrite heart, 
 
 Pay debt of truth and peace. 
 
 Oh Lord of Lords and King of Kings, 
 
 Highest estate attained, 
 Man's vicious passions all are dumb — 
 
 Come, Prince of Peace, and reign. 
 11 
 
zxzx: 
 
 FRIENDSHIP 
 
 Is friendship what it really means? 
 
 Or is it only style, 
 That one should utter pleasing words, 
 
 While heart is filled with guile. 
 
 Remorses great doth fill my heart. 
 
 While with a longing sigh, 
 I kindly write that you my friend. 
 
 Might know the reason why. 
 
 A longing heart that weeps today. 
 
 For friendship past and gone. 
 Beyond the portal of this life, 
 
 They once maintained so strong. 
 
 No one can tell the future here. 
 
 It's not for man to know, 
 All earthly hopes of man must fade, 
 
 Just like the falling snow. 
 
 Those friendship ties that once were bright, 
 
 Just like the stars above. 
 Smiled with delight, her face so white 
 
 Had filled my heart with love. 
 
 Her eyes so blue I thought were true, 
 
 I gave to her my heart. 
 While never did I think that she 
 
 Would ask me to depart. 
 
 On one December day it was, 
 
 I left her for to roam, 
 The earth was covered there with snow. 
 
 Her heart for me was dumb. 
 
 12 
 
I wandered to the city great, 
 
 Air filled with mist so chill, 
 It seemed to whisper to my soul, 
 
 Thy spirit liveth still. 
 
 The old church pew where we had sat, 
 
 Just one short year before. 
 On this December night I passed, 
 
 The archway of her door. 
 
 That night how vivid was the scene, 
 
 Of friendship past and gone. 
 Oh, can it be, was she untrue, 
 
 A friend I'd known so long. 
 
 True friendship and communion here. 
 
 Is what God wants to see. 
 That we might always live in peace, 
 
 And ever constant be. 
 
 In this cold world where all is vile, 
 
 And others' sin we see. 
 While our lives are grouped about 
 
 With immortality. 
 
 So let us then with friendship here. 
 
 Our mutual conquest bear, 
 And ever press toward the goal. 
 
 That knoweth not despair. 
 
 Then when our final course is run. 
 
 The judgment we pursue, 
 With thankful hearts and righteous deeds. 
 
 Our Maker to review. 
 
 13 
 
"OUR BROTHERS" 
 
 Scatter the roses in Europe today. 
 Over the graves of those journeyed away. 
 
 Fathers and sweethearts and brothers of ours, 
 Lying at rest all covered with flowers. 
 
 Lying so silent in grave and in trench, 
 
 Germans and Russians, Belgians, British and French, 
 Sleeping the year's of their life's brightest day. 
 
 Faces all scarred that will soon fade away. 
 
 Though courage has marked the home of the brave. 
 Like demons they fought, together are laid. 
 
 Bestow the reward they won in the past. 
 Give them the honor their chiefs had forecast. 
 
 Please give them the cross they won in the strife, 
 Give them the roses they lost with their life. 
 
 Crown with your laurels those brothers of ours. 
 Terrific the battles fought by the powers. 
 
 The fatherland's domain the home of the brave. 
 Passing from life to their rest in the grave, 
 
 Heroes so loyal, so brave and so true, 
 Airships are busy in skies that are blue. 
 
 Cannons are roaring by day and by night. 
 Buildings are burning, so hard is the fight, 
 
 Man's blood is flowing, a marvelous thing, 
 Spilt by the Kaiser, the Czar and the King. 
 
 Faces once smiled at the blue and the gray. 
 
 Faces now still by the form of decay, 
 Eyes that gave lovelight so true to our own: 
 
 Lips that sweet thoughts of a true love made known. 
 
 14 
 
Brows you have stroked in the day of despair. 
 Cheeks you have flushed with a kiss unaware. 
 
 Faces that dim in the battle's black smoke 
 
 fainting for naught till the death angel spoke. 
 
 Cover the hands that are sleeping untried, 
 Now crossed on his breast or down by his side. 
 
 Gladly the cross of their nation they bore, 
 Songs of fruition they sealed with their gore. 
 
 Cover the feet that are battered and torn. 
 
 By comrades and friends were patiently borne. 
 
 Not until Gabriel's great trumpet shall sound, 
 Will they e'er rise from their rest in the ground. 
 
 Cover the heads that were merry and gay. 
 Leaving their sweethearts at home far away. 
 
 Bravely their life to their nation they gave. 
 Now in her bosom they rest in their grave. 
 
 Zephyrs with freedom now fly over head. 
 Murmuring names of the heroes now dead. 
 
 So by our spirits we'll see them once more. 
 When at last we have crossed to that far distant shore. 
 
 Then when the archangels trumpet and tread, 
 Raising all lifelike the forms of the dead — 
 
 For all of the people last judgment awaits, 
 When Jesus our Maker shall open the gates. 
 
 Then scatter the roses, scatter them wide, 
 Over the heroes, our brothers who died; 
 
 Cover their faces who in cold trenches lie, 
 Shut from the blue of the transparent sky. 
 
 15 
 
IDAHO 
 
 'Twas Idaho, 'twas Idaho, 
 
 'Twas AvheiP I had to go; 
 'Twas there I had to live six months. 
 
 My lawyer told me so. 
 
 'Twas Idaho, 'twas Idaho, 
 
 'Twas Boise where I stopped, 
 Four months of that time now have passed 
 
 My trivial life I've dropped. 
 
 In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 The weather's cold you know, 
 Thermometer reads at zero, 
 
 On mountains dressed with snow. 
 
 In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 The wind is bleak and chill. 
 Sometimes it squeaks like new bought shoes, 
 
 Or sings like whip-poor-wills. 
 
 In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 People seem strange to me, 
 They all dress up in Sunday togs. 
 
 The "movies" for to see. 
 
 In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 The state of bear and moose. 
 And what seems strangest here to me. 
 
 They tame the wildest goose. 
 
 In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 The forests have large trees, 
 Four hundred and seventy saw-mills, 
 
 Those chaps do what they please. 
 
 In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 Alfalfa, wheat and corn, 
 And dainty damsels by the score, 
 
 And men that seem forlorn. 
 16 
 
In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 Agricultural gains we lap, 
 The Boise valley far is known, 
 
 As first upon our map. 
 
 In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 Horticulture is your line, 
 Payette valley's number one, 
 
 Her equal's hard to find. 
 
 In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 Weiser valley you can trust. 
 And should you buy a farm out there, 
 
 My friend, you'll never bust. 
 
 In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 From creeks men dig pure gold. 
 They trade it to the merchants here. 
 
 For "scrip" that they can fold. 
 
 In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 My friend this letter keep, 
 And when the bleaky winds don't blow, 
 
 I'll climb the mountains steep. 
 
 In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 The ArroM'rock Dam is great! 
 It cost Uncle Sam some millions, 
 
 For he had to pay the freight. 
 
 In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 Snake River's rapid speed. 
 Is fed by the Boise River, 
 
 By Lewiston it leads. 
 
 In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 Where pumpkins grow like barns. 
 It takes at least a couple men 
 
 To load one on the farm. 
 
 In Idaho, in Idaho, 
 
 Kind Sir, my story's done, 
 The people here say "Democrats" 
 
 Have put them on the bum! 
 17 
 
DOC 
 
 CLOVER BLOSSOMS 
 
 The leaf of a little clover. 
 
 That grew right near the path, 
 As I passed one morning early, 
 
 Looked up at me and laughed. 
 
 'Twas a bright and pleasant morning. 
 
 One early day in June; 
 The clover leaf, she spoke to me 
 
 And set my heart a-tune. 
 
 Ah, my eyes were glancing downward. 
 The words she spoke were ti'ue. 
 
 Her little face looked worn and weary, 
 Though wet with morning's dew. 
 
 Although day by day I passed her, 
 I watched with much delight, 
 
 Feat of a wonderful kingdom. 
 Burst forth by rays of light. 
 
 But the early leaves, I noticed, 
 First dropped, for they were dead. 
 
 But on top there came a blossom. 
 Lifting up its little head. 
 
 For this little leaf of clover, 
 Grown by the path we tread. 
 
 Has painted a pretty picture, 
 With its colors green and red. 
 
 18 
 
LOVE'S MEMORIES 
 
 The voice of my soul re-echoes in chime. 
 With seasons and years in the journey of time. 
 
 But thy voice, my sweetheart, I never more hear. 
 Too distant its echo for dull mortal ear. 
 
 Yet neither its echo, nor clouding that roll. 
 Can dim thy loved features enthroned in my soul; 
 
 So, now, I rejoice in the marvelous faith 
 Presented in dreams, in each line of thy face. 
 
 I reach for thy finger tips, yet well do I know 
 That hand is as white as the fast falling snow. 
 
 No call of love wakens that dear little breast 
 
 Where sweet dreams of nature await your caress. 
 
 When worn by life's trials, its stings and its darts, 
 
 I seek in your prayers a solace of heart, 
 An infinite pity, compassion, in tears. 
 
 To lighten the burden of fast fleeting years. 
 
 And gazing anew at those beautiful eyes. 
 They're beaming upon me, I'm shocked with surprise. 
 
 They follow my pathway as I wander and roam. 
 Could none but a lover those orbits illume. 
 
 Or, is it transposing that memory throws. 
 From jewels her chambers so safely enclose; 
 
 So vivid, so lifelike, so filled with delight, 
 A lover's true story you may now recite. 
 
 When obscure transposing enchantments diffuse, 
 The present must vanish, dreams of childhood I muse; 
 
 I bask in the rays that illumine love's throne. 
 For, Sweetheart, dear Sweetheart, those eyes are thine own. 
 
 Oh, Jesus, our Maker! And Father divine; 
 
 Create in thj'' image a sanctified shrine. 
 Where Heaven grows nearer and planets all blend. 
 
 Forgiving her sins, while my prayer doth ascent. 
 
 19 
 
DOC 
 
 DEAR MOTHER 
 
 Dear Mother, I'm lonesome, for whom can it be, 
 For her whose love is like His who died on Calvary's tree. 
 The pure and the wistful voice like the coo of a dove. 
 Through years of my childhood, has taught me to love. 
 
 Your figure is slender and graceful I know, 
 Those tresses once black, now are white as the snow. 
 Your eye once was bright, still shines with delight, 
 Oppressed is my heart, when you stray from my sight. 
 
 I should be so happy, for the cares that you give. 
 Have softened by trials, and taught me to live. 
 These pleasures you give me, oh! how can I pay. 
 For life is so short and I'll soon pass away. 
 
 I hope that the echoes of past years will go. 
 And leave us no memories, our hearts to o'erflow, 
 Possessing the gentle and kind loving trace, 
 Oh Mother! Oh Mother! with smiles on your face. 
 
 If Satan must have me, beguiled might I stand, 
 To welcome the embrace, of your warm loving hand. 
 And to honor the cares, you bestow upon me. 
 Oh Mother! Oh Mother! my prayers are for thee. 
 
 20 
 
Soon the wheat fields will be wavins. 
 And the price will be I'isht fair; 
 
 Don't you want one hundred acres? 
 Life is worth a-living there. 
 
THE DISTRICT 
 
 There's a place we call the District 
 
 Of Columbia, born with care, 
 Left us Ijy our Pilgrim Fathers, 
 
 Who for years assembled there. 
 
 Oh, the explorer, let us praise him 
 
 For his wise and noble ways; 
 Oh, the trials he must have suffer'd 
 
 Sailing o'er the deep blue waves. 
 
 There it was our Savior blessed him, 
 And the goal he reached at last; 
 
 Conq'ring all the other nations 
 By his hard and dreary task. 
 
 Oh this District! We'll preserve it, 
 
 For the features here we see. 
 Let his statue stand forever, 
 
 Looking back toward the sea. 
 
 As we pass along the highways, 
 And our eyes are filled with gaze 
 
 Here and there at large stone buildings, 
 Seems to us so strange for days. 
 
 At a distance something tow'ring, — 
 What can be that tall slim spire? 
 
 Strangers as they approach the District, 
 Washington's Monument, they inquire. 
 
 '"Yes, that structure tall and stately, 
 Bleached by raindrops pure and white," 
 
 As we hear the people murmur, 
 
 "Five hundred fifty-five feet (eight inches) 
 Is her height." 
 
 21 
 
So it is, all through the District, 
 As we're passing to and fro, 
 
 Bringing back the days of boyhood 
 And the histoiy that we know. 
 
 Here and there the statues firmly 
 Reminds us of the bugle blast, — 
 
 Fill our thoughts with saddest mem'ry 
 Of our heroes in the past. 
 
 Yes, our Army and our Navy — 
 What a cost to us has been; 
 
 But at last we sleep in comfort, 
 With our conquered British friend. 
 
 Uncle Sam, our dear old Watchman, 
 Stands above our Cap'tol's dome; 
 
 There he murmurs to the strangers, 
 Any place you choose to roam. 
 
 He gently said, "I need your service, 
 
 If with me you care to go. 
 Way out West I need more people, — 
 
 Wheat and corn are sure to grow. 
 
 Soon the wheat fields will be waving. 
 And the price will be right fair; — 
 
 Don't you want one hundred acres? 
 Life is worth a-living there." 
 
 We hope the people that are coming 
 Will treat Uncle Sam with care; 
 
 For he's getting old and feeble, 
 And it seems that none doth care. 
 
 He's a kind and Christian Father, 
 And to us good care has giv'n. 
 
 And if we have faith in Jesus, 
 When we die we'll go to Hev'n. 
 
 22 
 
Oh, how heautiful is our District! 
 
 Saloons will make him raise his rod, 
 If inspired by the Almighty, 
 
 They're an insult to our God. 
 
 Yes, the great Potomac waters 
 
 Through our District gently creeps; 
 
 There, beside her, weeping willows 
 Seemingly have gone to sleep. 
 
 Oh, our District, as we know her. 
 She was placed with greatest care 
 
 By our great and noble statesmen. 
 Who to God would kneel in pray'r. 
 
 Long our District has been faithful, 
 Outward bound with States all 'round. 
 
 Waiting here and there in silence, — 
 May their faces wear no frown. 
 
 God at last will tell the story 
 Of His Son who died for all; 
 . May our great and noble statesmen 
 Liquors from our land recall. 
 
 Then our much admired District, 
 Possessing goodness here below. 
 
 Would advance one step to'rds Heaven, 
 For our Savior tells us so. 
 
 "God of Peace," and "God of Glory", — 
 May you this once, hear our call. 
 
 And prepare us as a Nation, 
 Lest we should forever fall. 
 
 Thanking God for peace and freedom, — 
 Might all nations be the same. 
 
 Marching onward up towards Heaven, 
 Magnifying Jesus' name. 
 
 23 
 
NIGHT 
 
 Into the rush of night where darkness dwells, 
 The landscapes of the hills and vales have flown, 
 With but the stars to watch and secrets tell. 
 As sentinels are all arranged so well. 
 Their language authors never tried to spell. 
 Phantoms of the day fade with the night's advance, 
 All moving things like ghosts that haunt the light, 
 Unprofitable splendor and the display, 
 The cares, agitations that oftimes prey 
 Upon our hearts in such a singular way, 
 Leaves our body and soul with night's repose. 
 Better sight of a future life begins. 
 The world no more obstructs our future path. 
 Our records now are clean while sleep doth last, 
 From commonplace history of our lives 
 Like palimpsest tatooed, defaced and worn. 
 The night is gone and left our hearts reformed. 
 With all incidents trivial time and place. 
 The low and ideal and hidden beneath revives. 
 And slowly fades the night's most dreadful gloom 
 To all who loves the day, and God don't know. 
 The Majesty of God's own will divine 
 
 has come, 
 That man and beast both free and bond might rest 
 
 sublime. 
 The night alone is kind. 
 
 The demoiu^ of the dungeons art 
 Presents themselves to us at dark 
 And fill our hearts with fear and dread. 
 With notions running through our head. 
 
 The moon's bright rays for many hours. 
 That shines from its most lofty towers. 
 Oh what can be its mission there, 
 So often in the hour of prayer? 
 The stars so brightly shining too 
 24 
 
^ '^_ .. .. _ II I I III - -- ^"l -^ 
 
 Reverts my thoughts, Dear Lord, to you. 
 Ah what a power and what a mind, 
 To make a world like this so fine. 
 
 With nights to rest our tired toes, 
 Our finger-tips and press our clothes. 
 To rest our tongues and ears and eyes, 
 To rest our brains, will make us wise. 
 
 And when the darkest night is past. 
 And God has crowned our lives at last. 
 Give him the praise and glory too — 
 lie made the night my friend for you. 
 
 OUR COUNTRY 
 
 What a majestic scene of beauty, 
 Hangs before our dreamy eyes, 
 
 When we raise our faces Heavenward, 
 As we watch the starry skies. 
 
 What a majestic scene before us. 
 When we view the briny sea, 
 
 Surging, leaping, roaring waters, 
 Rushing backward toward the lea. 
 
 What a majestic scene before us. 
 
 The prairies' golden grain, — 
 Woven net of irrigation, 
 What marvel man has gained. 
 
 What a majestic scene before us. 
 As we see the mighty trees, 
 
 California's stately redwoods, 
 Goldenrods and honey bees. 
 25 
 
What a majestic scene before us. 
 Are the rivers as they flow. 
 
 Onward down through time eternal. 
 Kissed by sun's transparent glow. 
 
 What a majestic scene before us, 
 As the Rocky Mountains stands. 
 
 North and south her strata running, 
 They divide our native land. 
 
 What a majestic scene before us. 
 In the Southland's nooks and rills, 
 
 With her plains of cotton blossoms. 
 And her busy ginning mills. 
 
 What a majestic scene before us. 
 Are the Great Lakes that we know. 
 
 With their rushed commercial traffic. 
 As her boats ply to and fro. 
 
 What a majestic scene before us. 
 Are the forests wild and drear, 
 
 Where our sportsmen go out hunting, 
 Where they find the moose and deer. 
 
 What a majestic scene before us, 
 With the seal and mining camps, 
 
 These Alasaka's chief industries, 
 Easy found upon our map. 
 
 What a majestic scene before us, 
 
 God of Heaven, let it be. 
 Keep our home a Christian nation, 
 
 Ever guided, Lord by thee. 
 
There is a city far beneath 
 The ships that sail the sea. 
 
 The number that it doth contain 
 Would startle you and me. 
 
•THE SILENT CITY" 
 
 There is a city far beneatli 
 
 Tlie surface of the sea, 
 With walls so high that none can peer. 
 
 Not. even you and me. 
 
 History of that city great, 
 
 Once came to me in rhyme. 
 The precincts of this noted place. 
 
 Have grown since Adam's time. 
 
 There is a city far beneath 
 
 The ships that sail the sea. 
 The number that it doth contain 
 
 Would startle you and me. 
 
 On this old earth once came a flood, 
 Rained forty days and nights. 
 
 Though ardent was the man of God, 
 Who preached with all his might. 
 
 This history now my friends you see. 
 
 Goes back to Adam's day. 
 For he was first to till the land, 
 
 God drove the seas away. 
 
 The waters then He called them seas, 
 The dry land called He earth, 
 
 And in that garden He had made 
 Left Adam there to work. 
 
 All things were named by Adam too. 
 
 And after he was done, 
 A living in the gardens, sir. 
 
 Was anything but fun. 
 
 27 
 
While Adam was asleeping there, 
 
 One rib our Maker got, 
 And closed the ugly wound right up 
 
 Before he left the spot. 
 
 Out of that rib our Master made 
 
 A creature like we see. 
 He asked the man whom he had formed, 
 
 What will her title be. 
 
 And Adam said. This is now bone of my bones. 
 
 And flesh of my flesh, 
 
 She shall be called woman. 
 
 Because she was taken out of man. 
 
 Now Adam had to till the ground. 
 While Eve, she was the cook, 
 
 She thirsted much for knowledge there. 
 So from the tree she took. 
 
 And for that reason, we must die, 
 For God gave the command. 
 
 To those who were a-living then 
 In that most holy land. 
 
 They lived and thrived till Noah's time, 
 When they all met their fate. 
 
 They would not enter in the Ark 
 Until it was too late. 
 
 The people paid but little heed 
 
 To what he had foretold. 
 One hundred twenty years he preached, 
 
 He tried to save their souls. 
 
 Do you not see that city great, 
 
 That lies beneath the sea. 
 The millions it has welcomed there 
 
 Would be a sight to see. 
 28 
 
There's old and young and rich and poor, 
 
 With mariners by the score, 
 That inhabit yonder city, 
 
 The sea has covered o'er. 
 
 The rolling waves like clouds to them, 
 Prevent the sun's bright glow, 
 
 From giving light and warmth to those 
 "Who there reside below. 
 
 A silent city it must be, 
 
 A bivouac of the dead. 
 Where not a vessel rings its bells, 
 
 Or not a word is said. 
 
 No human ever walked or talked 
 
 That city of despair, 
 For there was never know to be 
 
 A breeze of fresh cool air. 
 
 So let us stop to think a bit, 
 
 Ere from our home we go. 
 For the sea's o'erwhelming billows 
 
 Might retain our long repose. 
 
 29 
 
O ~~ JO 
 
 COMMUNION 
 
 I live for those who know me, 
 
 For those I know are true, 
 For the mansion far above me, 
 
 That awaits my spirit too. 
 
 For my human friendship binds me, 
 For the work my Master gives me, 
 
 For the inscription left behind me, 
 And the good that it shall do. 
 
 I've lived to know the sorrow 
 For friends who did forsake. 
 
 To emulate their story, 
 A righteous heart would ache . 
 
 The wise men and the sages. 
 
 Whose rules have lived through ages, 
 And still complete the pages 
 
 Of this small book I make. 
 
 I live to hold reunion 
 
 With fellowship divine. 
 I know there is communion 
 
 Between God's heart and mine. 
 
 To suffer great affliction, 
 Reap truth from holy scripture, 
 
 I must confess conviction — 
 It is God's grand design. 
 
 I'll live to see that season. 
 
 By sages long foretold. 
 The people rule by reason. 
 
 And not by warriors bold. 
 
 When we with God united, 
 The wrongs of all are righted, 
 
 Then man's heart will be lighted, 
 Like Moses' was of old. 
 30 
 
x^^ 
 
 PRESIDENTS IN RHYME 
 
 George Washington was number one; the Senior Adams 
 next came on. While Jefferson made the number three; 
 Madison the fourth was he. Monroe the fifth to him suc- 
 ceeds; while sixth the Junior Adams leads. The seventh 
 Andrew Jackson came and eighth we count Van Buren's 
 name. Harrison made the number nine. Tyler was the 
 tenth in line. Polk was the eleventh we all know and 
 twelfth was Taylor in the row. Filmore the thirteenth took 
 his place. Pierce the fourteenth in the race. Buchanan the 
 fifteenth had come, his loyal work at once begun. Abraham 
 Lincoln, the sixteenth, who freed the slaves, died a martyr 
 by a knave. Andrew Johnson, seventeenth was he, who made 
 a courteous inaugural plea. Eighteen was U. S. Grant who 
 served eight eyears of royal days. Ninteenth come Ruther- 
 ford B. Hayes. James A. Garfield, twentieth, takes the chair, 
 like Lincoln died while he was there. Chester Arthur num- 
 ber twenty-one, served until his term was done. Twenty-two 
 was Cleveland, short and stout, who loved to fish for frog and 
 trout. Benjamin Harrison number twenty-three caught him 
 napping easily, but when his four long years were run 
 Cleveland number twenty-four his second term begun. He 
 laid aside his rod and gun and vetoed every bill but one. 
 Now I will name a man most dear who gave his nation hope 
 and cheer. All people loved him that we know. He died a 
 martyr here below. Our twenty-fifth president McKinley was 
 quite true, he lived and died a Christian too. The third to 
 die from assassin's ball, the other two I have recalled. Now 
 Roosevelt number twenty-six, who fought the trusts and bent 
 their sticks. He gave the people all great cheer and filled 
 our throbbing hearts with fear. He ran his race in seven 
 years and called on Taft to dry our tears. Now William Taft 
 makes twenty-seven. All but two last named have gone to 
 heaven. I'm glad to know that Woodrow came. He'll ever 
 help us on to fame. His watchful waiting proved so grand, 
 we are glad to know this Christian man. And if he'll only 
 run once more, the wolf can't enter at our door. It's fine to 
 have a man like him, so short, and thin and lean and slim, 
 to take our nation by the hand. He pleases almost every 
 man. 
 
 31 
 
AM I THE BOY 
 
 Am I the boy you once did know, 
 That filled my mother's heart with woe, 
 And daily blighted father's name, 
 In this old world of sin and shame? 
 
 I came to them so incomplete, 
 
 My duty never could I meet. 
 
 With sparkling eyes and cheeks of tan. 
 
 They called me then their little man. 
 
 To school some distance I would go. 
 
 My teacher always loved me so, 
 
 And there I learned to read and write, 
 
 While my schoolmates would quarrel and fight. 
 
 Or play a game of rough football, 
 There taking out of each a fall. 
 I learned to read and spell with those 
 Who pinched my arms or mashed my toes. 
 
 I always tried to please them all, 
 But never would I play baseball. 
 Or call my teachers mean vile names. 
 Each day I'd try to live the same. 
 
 Am I the boy you once did know. 
 That filled my mother's heart with woe. 
 And daily blighted father's name. 
 In this old world of sin and shame? 
 
 II. 
 
 My father lived one mile from town, 
 And he was known for miles around. 
 For he was born and lived and died 
 On his own farm, a country side. 
 
 In stature he was tall and slim. 
 His eyes were brown and cheeks were thin. 
 His hair was black as raven's coat. 
 His views I now can sometimes quote. 
 32 
 
My father lived one mile from town, 
 And he was known for miles around. 
 For he was born and lived and died, 
 On his own farm, a country side. 
 
His farm was best for miles around, 
 His corn was tall and rich and brown, 
 His cattle they were fair to see. 
 His eye was trained on honey bee. 
 
 His features fair as fair can be, 
 
 I know but one so fair to mc. 
 
 His heart was good and kind and true, 
 
 While Moses' Laws he freely knew. 
 
 And many volumes he wrote too. 
 That pleased the soldier boys in blue. 
 Oh could I find a man like him, 
 One distant journey I'd begin. 
 
 He was a man of will and pride, 
 A man that God had satisfied. 
 The Bible he would stop and read, 
 And lived according to his need. 
 
 My father lived one mile from town. 
 And he was known for miles around. 
 For he was born and lived and died. 
 On his own farm, a country side. 
 
 HI. 
 My mother dear, though filled with pride, 
 I loved to linger near her side. 
 Her hair was white as falling snow; 
 Her cheeks retained a living glow. 
 
 Her eyes were blue as Heaven's skies, 
 That took me often by surprise; 
 Compassion lived within her heart, 
 That stung my conscience like a dart. 
 
 With her I loved to live and dwell, 
 For to me she'd often stories tell. 
 Her stature then was short and stout. 
 Day in, day out, she'd hum about. 
 
 Around her fireside I'd play. 
 While she was sewing all the day. 
 With her the chickens I would feed, 
 And drive to town a fiery steed. 
 33 
 
~ ) <r ^ 
 
 She taught me this and taught me that, 
 
 Just how to live and how to act. 
 
 I pray to God that I might find 
 
 One just as good and true and kind, 
 
 My fireside would have the glow 
 Of my dear parent's years ago. 
 
 My mother dear though filled with pride, 
 I loved to linger near her side, 
 Her hair was white as falling snow. 
 Her cheeks retained a living glow. 
 
 WAR OF EIGHTEEN NINETY-EIGHT 
 
 Misfortunes of the Cuban race, 
 
 McKinley did deplore; 
 Our army and our navy sent, 
 
 'I'heir island lo explore. 
 
 The Cubans are a loyal race, 
 
 Their bravery he adored. 
 He therefore felt that we should now 
 
 Reserve their native shore. 
 
 Great Spain had tried to win the name. 
 
 Close by our nation's door. 
 But this he thought she could not do. 
 
 At least for four years more. 
 
 So to start the ball in motion, 
 And prove to all we're fair. 
 
 He would not tiy to be unjust. 
 Or take them unaware. 
 
 Ah, our Maine, she was a monster; 
 
 She lay with starboard side, 
 Toward the Havana fortress, 
 
 That bay is where she died. 
 She sank beneath the rollin;^ waves, 
 
 Havana's banks so grim. 
 Of all the marines she bore, 
 
 Her crew was very slim. 
 34 
 
Her crew was such a noble one, 
 They knew their well-trained place. 
 
 The Spaniards were afraid to come, 
 And meet them face to face. 
 
 Our President, a collegiate, 
 
 A scholar good and fair, 
 On April twenty-second day, 
 
 A war he did declare. 
 
 Soon after this a message came. 
 
 From Dewey, o'er the sea, 
 America never heard before 
 
 Of such a victory. 
 
 'Twas Sunday morn, the first of May, 
 
 That Dewey called the fight. 
 He steamed right in Manila Bay; 
 
 Found Spaniards sleeping tight. 
 
 Our ships were manned with gallant men, 
 Their aim both perfect was and true. 
 
 Perhaps you know something of this. 
 By pictures artists drew. 
 
 Their Castile was a battleship. 
 
 Her armor bright and new. 
 But there she fought the Stars and Stripes, 
 
 And sank beneath the blue. 
 
 The Donantone, a man of war. 
 
 Her crew like demons fought. 
 Caught fire and sank beneath the waves. 
 
 While violently she rocked. 
 
 Of all the tales of victory, 
 
 Since fourteen ninety-two. 
 None would compare with the gallantry 
 
 That Dewey did go through. 
 
 Charles Gridley was a noble man. 
 
 Our countryman and true. 
 He died from fighting at his post. 
 
 Ah, say my friend could you? 
 35 
 
k r ^ 
 
 Old Glory brings to heart and mind, 
 
 Morn of a desperate fight, 
 Between the Dons of foreign land, 
 
 And Yankee Stars and Stripes. 
 
 The praise of Dewey's power is sung 
 
 Among the rich and poor. 
 We all should greet him on his way, 
 
 Through life for everymore. 
 
 Our loved ones, who assisted him. 
 Through strife with desperate foe. 
 
 May God their pathways brighten up 
 Wherever they may go. 
 
 The Olympia was his flagship, 
 
 Although she's small in size. 
 She will always have the honor. 
 
 She captured the richest prize. 
 
 Our hearts were saddened for a while. 
 Our moans were deep within. 
 
 Until we heard from Sampson's fleet. 
 Towing the piizes in. 
 
 After two long weeks the prizes, rich, 
 Schley towed them by the score. 
 
 With their large cargoes bright and new, 
 Were landed on our shore. 
 
 'Twas eighteen hundred ninety-eight. 
 Fifth month and on third day. 
 
 That Hobson sank the Merrimac 
 In Santiago Bay. 
 
 I hope that all will honor him. 
 Through years that we may last. 
 
 As one of our greatest heroes. 
 For many centuries past. 
 
 Col. Roosevelt with his cavalry. 
 Had charged with great decree: 
 
 Their ardent hearts were bound to win. 
 And make the Cubans free. 
 36 
 
DO 
 
 While General Shafter and his men, 
 
 Demanded what was right; 
 And as our army braved San Juan, 
 
 The Spaniards made their flight. 
 
 To Spain by steamer they did flee. 
 
 Left Cuba for to roam: 
 Their transport landed safe in port, 
 
 Domain they called their own. 
 
 Torrell saved his men from certain fate. 
 Yes, saved from our boys in blue; 
 
 He knew he could not keep us back. 
 The best that he could do. 
 
 Our dynamite guns were trained upon 
 Their dark and gloomy town. 
 
 The Spaniards soon cried out with fear, 
 '"Our flag we will haul down." 
 
 Now Sampson wants a word or two. 
 
 As all good Admirals do, 
 "We hope that he will always be 
 
 So loyal, brave and true. 
 
 When Spain first said we had to fighl, 
 
 Our Navy it was small. 
 But since that time we've grown in size. 
 
 Both broad and very tall. 
 
 Uncle Sam was once a lanky man, 
 
 We often hear folks say, 
 So now he'll have to rest a while, 
 
 At Santiago Bay. 
 
 To Puerto Rico on they go, 
 
 May God soon hear their prayer. 
 
 Supported by their noble crews. 
 They brought their guns to bear. 
 
 The Spanish fleet lay bottled up 
 
 At Santiago Bay. 
 Our ships blockaded that old port. 
 
 For three weeks, night and day. 
 37 
 
Cristobal Colon, a noble ship, 
 To Spain she was most true. 
 
 She undertook to lead their fleet. 
 But failed to take them through. 
 
 Now I will tell you, best I can, 
 
 A plain and simple way. 
 Of all our ships who helped to sink 
 
 Cevera on that day. 
 
 Of all our ships we're very proud. 
 
 Both large and small in size. 
 For always when they're called to fight, 
 
 The Spaniards they surprise. 
 
 A monster from a western state, 
 
 Now I might call to mind. 
 She steamed some fourteen thousand miles, 
 
 A Spaniard for to find. 
 
 Iowa and the Oregon, 
 
 They would not take a dare. 
 Supported by their noble crews, 
 
 Their guns re-echoed there. 
 
 The Gloucester is a yachting boat. 
 
 Suppose you have heard say. 
 The Spaniards did not like to yacht, 
 
 In such a desperate way. 
 
 The Texas is a battleship, 
 
 Although she's small in size. 
 She helped to run their Colon down. 
 
 And held her as a prize. 
 
 'Twas the North Atlantic squadron, 
 
 Far to the South she lay. 
 Commanded by the Brooklyn boy. 
 
 Our Commodore Schley. 
 
 Our battleships are present types, 
 
 I want you all to know. 
 Commanded by the "Yankee hogs" 
 
 Where ever they may go. 
 38 
 
Old Glory floats in beauty now, 
 
 O'er mainland, isle and sea. 
 And we are all proud to own her, 
 
 Glorious banner of the free. 
 
 Great Spain alone her cause doth plead. 
 
 Her Navy is no more. 
 I hope that all who know her fate, 
 
 Will read her history o'er. 
 
 Segasta now says peace must come. 
 
 Queen Regent pleads in vain. 
 Their consicence now doth lead them back 
 
 To sinking of our Maine. 
 
 Within these lines that I have written, 
 
 I hope that all may see 
 That Spain no more will bother us, 
 
 Through all eternity. 
 
 Many others likewise be the same, 
 
 As we would have them, too, 
 And we can always live in peace. 
 
 As God would have us do. 
 
 EASTER 
 
 Do you know this heart of sorrow filled with grief you've 
 
 never known? 
 Do you know a stricken mourner left to face his life alone? 
 Is there one sad soul whose burden is too great for him to 
 
 bear? 
 Are there tearful eyes which see not Springtime's beauties 
 
 everywhere? 
 Oh, there, give him of your choicest, give him freely of your 
 
 best! 
 Just a tender smile and hand clasp and the mourner will be 
 
 blest. 
 Just a spray of Easter Lilies laid within a patient hand, 
 Just a written word of kindness — he will surely understand. 
 
 89 
 
Oh, the joy of Easter morning! Oh, the good that you may do! 
 Oh, the peace of God's own blessing may be brought about 
 
 by you. 
 For you know my heart is lonely, though there's many a 
 
 troubled soul 
 You can comfort with your kindness, you can make alive and 
 
 whole. 
 Just a bunch of Easter Violets, tender, blue as heaven's 
 
 skies — 
 They may make the light of gladness kindle in one sufferer's 
 
 eyes. 
 Just a tiny book of verses telling of the Easter time, 
 Just a fragment of a poem — Some, sweet, strong, inspiring 
 
 line. 
 Just a hand clasp warm and tender, just a smile from happy 
 
 lips, 
 Just a book of love and friendship, just a touch of finger tips — 
 Ah, it is not what we're giving, half so much as how we give. 
 And it's not so much our creed, as our life and how we live. 
 
 "Then Dear Heart," on Easter morning, find the one who 
 
 needs your care, 
 Scatter smiles as sweet as blossomf^ downward drifting 
 
 through the air. 
 Be not chary with your loving — give and give and give still 
 
 more. 
 And your Easter will be precious as it never was before. 
 
IN VIRGINIA 
 
 Yes, way back in old Virginia, 
 With the quail and cooing dove. 
 Lives a pleasant little lady. 
 And whose heart is tilled with love. 
 Yes, with ideas that will measure, 
 Far beyond the reach of time. 
 In Virginia lives this lady 
 And for her I'll pen this rhyme. 
 
 Through the hours and days by-gone 
 She has filled my heart with glee. 
 All her smiles and winsome manners. 
 Daily remind me dear of thee — 
 Miles and mountains now divide us, 
 And the only song I hear. 
 Is the rattling of the pen point. 
 And the things you write so dear. 
 
 How my heart and nature beckons. 
 For the things you taught to me, 
 But since Idaho is my homestead, 
 I am longing now to see. 
 One who proved to be so faithful, 
 And whose heart I know is true. 
 When the merry springtime cometh, 
 I'll return my love to you. 
 
 41 
 
>o>czz: 
 
 BELLS 
 
 The greatest bell man ever made 
 Weighs some two hundred tons, 
 
 In Sixteen hundred and eleven 
 This monster, she was hung. 
 
 In Moscow, far beyond the sea. 
 There stands this mighty bell. 
 
 The tourist as they go and come. 
 Its wonders they do tell. 
 
 Champion bell, when she doth ring. 
 It seems would wake the dead. 
 
 And when her heavy tongue doth sound. 
 It hurts the human head. 
 
 For many miles away, her chimes 
 Are heard on Christmas day. 
 
 Though only twice each year she rings. 
 Once on the Tsar's birthday. 
 
 Two dozen men to ring this bell, 
 
 I write that you may know. 
 No whistle can her echoes chase. 
 
 When tongue swings to and fro. 
 
 The largest bell in all the world, 
 
 Would be a sight to see. 
 She laid buried one hundred years. 
 
 This seems so strange to me. 
 
 If you should go to Moscow soon, 
 
 I hope you'll hear it ring. 
 No echoes ever heard on earth, 
 
 Like her great tongue doth bring. 
 
 Her reiterating persistent tongue. 
 
 Like Atris Market Bell, 
 Sometimes brings us the saddest news 
 
 That human tongue can tell. 
 42 
 
The gentle taps of smaller bells, 
 
 We hear at public school, 
 Where girls and boys are taught to know 
 
 Their teachers' rigid rules. 
 
 The old church bell that used to ring, 
 When we were but small boys 
 
 Reminds us of the prayers we heard. 
 And of our Christmas toys. 
 
 That same old bell with sadder tones, 
 Did count the years you know 
 
 Of our dear friends who left us here. 
 In sorrow, grief and woe, 
 
 Our Philadelphia has a bell. 
 That fills our heart with glee. 
 
 That bell once rang, my dear old friend, 
 The notes of Liberty. 
 
 THE DOCTOR 
 
 There is a doctor in our town, 
 Who's won a just and royal crown; 
 
 He's busy always, night and day. 
 Prescribes he only for the pay. 
 
 And patients gathered by the score, 
 Are waiting round his office door. 
 
 The doctor, fair as one can be. 
 Perhaps has gone his mines to see, 
 
 Or to his farms of golden wheat 
 Attracts his eye, so fair to meet. 
 
 And all the patients as before. 
 
 Still waiting round hi.s office door. 
 43 
 
HUMAN ANATOMY 
 
 How many bones in the human head? 
 
 Eight, my frend, Mi'. Gray has said. 
 All arraTiged so close and well, 
 
 Their number you can f-carcely tell. 
 
 How many l)ones in the human face? 
 
 There are fourteen, when all in place. 
 AH arranged so smooth and nice, 
 
 We gaze upon them twice or thrice. 
 
 How many bones in the human ear? 
 
 Four in each, to help us hear. 
 Inclosed their minute work of art, 
 
 Useful as the human heart. 
 
 How many bones in the shoulders bind? 
 
 Two in each, we're sure to find. 
 One large and round, one thin and stout. 
 
 One turns in, the other turns out. 
 
 How many bones in the human spine? 
 
 One score thirteen, their number. 
 Upward one by one, they climb, 
 
 No extras to encumber. 
 
 There are three bones in the human arm, 
 
 And without them we would be 
 As helpless as the little craft. 
 
 To withstand a mighty sea. 
 
 How many bones in the human wrist? 
 
 Five in each, when none are missed. 
 With shaft between, where muscles pass through, 
 
 That hold our fingers firm and true. 
 
 How many bones in the human hand? 
 
 Eight in each, with many a band. 
 All corded through and round about, 
 
 With ligaments that make them stout. 
 44 
 
How many bones in the fingers ten? 
 
 Twenty-eight, and by joints they bend. 
 Some long and thin, some short and stout. 
 
 And some diseased with chronic gout. 
 
 Thirty-two teeth in the human mouth. 
 All we have when none drawn out. 
 
 Each day they grind out sweets and sours. 
 Should they refuse, we're sick for hours. 
 
 How many bones in the human hip? 
 
 One in each, like a dish they dip. 
 Embed the sockets of our limb, 
 
 That makes us look so tall and slim. 
 
 The femur is the longest bone 
 
 In the body that we know; 
 Its mission is to carry one 
 
 Wherever he may go. 
 
 Patella, or the knee-pan bone, 
 
 Position just in front; 
 Most perpendicular it stands, 
 
 To welcome all its bumps. 
 
 The tibia and the fibula, 
 
 They extend from knee to foot; 
 They turn us round in any way 
 
 That we desire to look. 
 
 The tarsus and the phalages bones, 
 
 Our foot and toes combined, 
 Doth carry us with greatest east, 
 
 Our heels plod on behind. 
 
 And then we have some bones, I think. 
 That form on joints to fill up chinks. 
 
 A sesamoid and a wormian, they call. 
 
 You are excused when you name them all. 
 
 How many bones in our body to date? 
 
 They count in numbers two hundred and eight. 
 To tell of His greatness, I could but resign, 
 
 Mechanical wisdom of God's own design. 
 
 45 
 
AUTUMN'S BREEZES 
 
 Autumn's gentle breezes pining, 
 
 As they warble to and fro, 
 Leaving much to mark their memory, 
 
 In the days of long ago. 
 
 So it is the leaves are twirling, 
 'Neath our feet where e'er we go, 
 
 Filling all the world with sadness, 
 They are buried by the snow. 
 
 Earth receiving what she gave us. 
 In the merry, welcome spring, 
 
 Rapidly thrusting up tow'ards Heaven, 
 Opening like the angel's wing. 
 
 Yes, they're gone, but not forgotten. 
 During summer's warmest days; 
 
 There at times we sat protected 
 'Neath her cool refreshing shade. 
 
 Autumn's gentle breezes pining, 
 Bring to us once more so fair. 
 
 One who us'd to stoop and kiss us. 
 As we said our morning prayer. 
 
 A TRIP TO THE PLANETS 
 
 Trip to the Universe, now let us lead; 
 
 Sixty miles an hour, the schedule must read. 
 The time is limited, space is our joys. 
 
 All tickets sold, admit no one but boys. 
 
 My friend, let us take a trip to the moon. 
 
 Ah, be not impatient, we'll reach there in June. 
 The very best figures man can relate, 
 
 "166" days, if we make no mistake. 
 46 
 
If Venus, our destination, we choose. 
 Fifty years required, no time can we lose. 
 
 Onward and onward, all day and all night; 
 Upward toward Heaven, our wonderful flight. 
 
 Seventy-six years, to Mars, if that be the toll 
 One life is wasted ere we reach the goal. 
 
 Peace with our laughter, content with our lot, 
 Forward our journey, the Earth is forgot. 
 
 One hundred and ten years, to reacli Mercury, 
 And all the while at this wonderful speed; 
 
 Man's eyes are dazzled, his nose has to bleed, 
 Making his flight on this wonderful steed. 
 
 Perchance we might aim, at wonderful Sun, 
 
 A journey of 177 years has begun. 
 This road the brighter, I think you'll agree. 
 
 Inspires my nature, while shining on me. 
 
 If Jupiter be the far distant goal, 
 The mileage is greater than any we've told; 
 
 740 years, to his true, loving cup. 
 More precious the nectar than Cupids have sup'd. 
 
 1470 years, to Saturn we find, 
 
 If motor we keep right on the main line. 
 
 A god, a planet, as Webster has written. 
 Deeds of the sinful recorded in Heaven. 
 
 3160 years to Uranus, we read; 
 
 Ah, what a machine, with gearing and speed; 
 Beats all the records that ever were made. 
 
 Summer or winter, in sunshine or shade. 
 
 5055 years, if Neptune the route; 
 
 Man is so helpless, there's nothing but doubt 
 Imagine the years since Adam's own day; 
 
 Neptune, the planet, is too far away. 
 
 Stars look the smallest, their faces are dim. 
 Forty million years the time, to reach them; 
 
 To be sure, could I have my choice of them, 
 My friend, I'd take the Star of Bethlehem. 
 47 
 
THANKSGIVING 
 
 In nineteen hundred fourteenth year, and on Thanksgiving 
 
 day, 
 We gather at the meeting house to hear our pastors pray; 
 In thanks we bow our heads to God, who brought us through 
 
 the year. 
 And we should daily pray to Him, who fills our hearts with 
 
 cheer. 
 
 Our Savior once on earth did dwell. He gave the bread of life, 
 But many are the souls this day, engaged in war and strife. 
 We all give thanks to God today, that dwells within our land, 
 And ever ask that He shall be, the Leader of our band. 
 
 From every table everywhere delicious odors rise. 
 
 Of turkey, goose or duck, cake, cranberry or lemon pie. 
 
 Beneath parental roofs this day, our sons and daughters meet, 
 
 And bring their tiny little ones, with cheeks like roses sweet. 
 
 While gazing on these tiny ones, a thankfulness we feel 
 
 To Him whose majesty protects our homes from lead and steel. 
 
 We know that o'er the sea today the wintry breezes blow; 
 O'er heroes' graves and covered trench; in ruin, want and 
 
 woe. 
 There Famine's ghost views young and old and widows of 
 
 the dead. 
 While weeping orphans starve and die for want of daily 
 
 bread. 
 
 On this Thanksgiving let us send a message o'er the sea. 
 Remind them of the Man who walked on sea of Galilee. 
 Much good will come to those who help the victims of the war, 
 Christian love will gain a blessing it ne'er knew before. 
 
 48 
 
ZZZDOdZZ 
 
 BRIDGES 
 
 Great is the Bridge that we pass o'er; 
 
 Life's journey we pursue, 
 While onward bound with toil and strife. 
 
 All duties to renew. 
 
 "Bridge, a span over water deep." 
 
 Majestic, as you see, 
 It matters not we go and come, 
 
 A Bridge the same will be. 
 
 The Bridge that serves its purpose here, 
 
 Constrcted as you see, 
 Of iron, brick, stone, or wood, will rise 
 
 To page of History. 
 
 So while upon the highways here. 
 The Bridge that we have crossed 
 
 May some day bear us to our rest, 
 Might not my hope be lost. 
 
 From Bridge, the noun, we soon shall be. 
 Assembled all away from thee, 
 
 The plural, now, we do behold, 
 Who hath a heart and righteous soul. 
 
 I do confess while in my youth, 
 I must present the flag of ti'uce. 
 
 Although my heart and soul doth yearn. 
 Miss Bridges won my heart in turn. 
 
 I've known her from my boyhood days, 
 Her heart is pure, I'll always praise 
 
 Our school days spent with loudest cheer. 
 But now my heart has much to fear. 
 
 She is a pleasant little lady. 
 
 Her hair dark brown, her eyes dark blue- 
 Much I'd love to see her coming 
 
 For well I know her heart is true. 
 49 
 
Thrilling all my soul's emotions, 
 Oh! clasp me closely to thy breast — 
 
 For my heart is pierced and bleeding — 
 Before the sun sets in the west. 
 
 Not one hour of this life ponders, 
 
 I still have friends that're dear to me, 
 
 But I am sure there is no other. 
 Like this sweet child has been to me. 
 
 She is fresh with morning sweetness. 
 Sweet as the dewdrop on the vine — 
 
 Oh! might God inspire her nature, 
 At this late hour, to change her mind. 
 
 A ring I see upon that hand. 
 
 From whence it came, I should demand. 
 But if another she's in view. 
 
 Might God create within anew. 
 
 And bring her back to one who loves, 
 
 I cherish her, like God above. 
 And might I soon my message tell 
 
 That through past years, I've learned so well. 
 
 My aching heart, she must but know 
 As side by side to school we'd go. 
 
 My eyes were filled with love's delight, 
 My thoughts were constant day and night. 
 
 For through the night I'd dream of her. 
 How when to manhood I had grown. 
 
 Miss Ruth would be my own true wife, 
 And I'd be happy all my life. 
 
 Too late, too late, I hear the cry. 
 The angels now are passing by — 
 I hear the rustle of their wings, 
 Alas, Miss Ruth, I hear her sing. 
 
 With such bright and prompting instincts. 
 With all such beauty unsurpassed. 
 
 Strength to brave and faith to conquer — 
 This life is but a dream at last. 
 50 
 
FAITH 
 
 Were all ray hopes, of future years, 
 
 To pass from me this hour. 
 There's one I know, who rules above, 
 
 Controls these Earthly dowers. 
 
 If such would be, my lot to share. 
 
 While here on Earth I stay, 
 A Gentile from, the narrow path. 
 
 Would wander far away. 
 
 Oh this great World, of sin we know. 
 Once shown with light divine, 
 
 Did leave its splendor here and there, 
 In hearts of all mankind. 
 
 This light we know, is fading fast. 
 
 Receding hour by hour. 
 Until the time, will come at last. 
 
 When we shall be no more. 
 
 He so planned, and did create, 
 
 These mortal souls of ours. 
 To sing and laugh, and walk and talk. 
 
 In 144 short hours. 
 
 To see and hear, smell, feel and taste. 
 
 Majestic power sublime 
 Comes reaching forth, from sea and land. 
 
 In creatures called mankind. 
 
 In tumult man, on earth exists. 
 
 Why not obey His call, 
 The author here, would gladly give 
 
 His life if that were all. 
 
 The goal that bright, and higher realms, 
 That man should strive to see. 
 
 Can only come by faith in him, 
 Who died on Calvary, 
 51. 
 
OUR PRESIDENT 
 
 Oh, our President Woodrow Wilson 
 What a joy to us has come 
 Since we know you were elected 
 And our States all stand as one. 
 
 All our sadness turned to laghter 
 There is no sorrow, grief, nor pain 
 Since the sixth of last November 
 When our people did proclaim, 
 
 They'd elect a man to office 
 That was pure and good and bright, 
 One who would not ruin our country 
 By a hard and bloody fight. 
 
 Though at all times true and perfect 
 As a mortal man can be. 
 Walking in the steps of Jesus, 
 This the people soon will see. 
 
 If such a thing is possible 
 And you think it just and right. 
 That debt should be paid Johnny Bull, 
 Yes, before his hair grows white. 
 
 Those little things like this should be 
 Settled up, and paid with care, 
 Before the years go rolling by 
 And leave us in despair. 
 
 This dear old man was good and kind 
 We therefore should be the same, 
 And God will help us on our way 
 His great message to proclaim. 
 
 Yes, in place of our great array, 
 Price we spend on country roads, 
 Uncle John should have his money, 
 It will lighten up our load. 
 52 
 
IDO 
 
 Then you know we have a navy 
 Sustaining it great cost has come 
 As they circle round the world, sir, 
 Shooting powder up for fun. 
 
 We must always praise our brothers 
 For Great England gave them birth, 
 Blackstone, our old legal father. 
 Known to all who live on earth. 
 
 With their great and noble statesman 
 Gladstone's name still lives renown. 
 For his books doth teach us manner. 
 Hospitality marks his crown. 
 
 So it was their great Charles Wesley 
 As a messenger did come 
 Warning us of future safety 
 Exiling liquor, ale and rum. 
 
 Lafayette, a young French warrior, 
 With us played his part so well. 
 He helped us many years ago 
 To conquer the British bell. 
 
 And Jefferson, our great statesman, 
 Declaration of Independence he did write. 
 Our country then was rough and wild. 
 For the red men lived in sight. 
 
 We all listen now to Franklin 
 With his bottle on a bole. 
 Many years ago he told us 
 Electricity he would unfold. 
 
 And now here comes a Marconi 
 With odd looking wireless poles, 
 Who can surely can a message 
 And its story all unfold. 
 
 There's our submarines in battle. 
 Oh, how wonderful they act. 
 They submerge in ocean's water 
 And for hours they don't come back. 
 53 
 
y^ 
 
 Just the opposite is Wright's aii'ship 
 As they sail one mile in height, 
 What a wonderful thing in battle 
 Could they operate by night. 
 
 Now we come to martyred presidents, 
 Lincoln, Garfield and McKinley, too. 
 No, they did not die in battle. 
 To our country they were true. 
 
 Yes, Sir Walter Scott, their poet. 
 With his pen was great we know — 
 Let us leave their dear old England, 
 To America we will go. 
 
 They arrived in this, our country. 
 In fourteen hundred ninety-two — 
 How our Pilgrim Fathers suffered, 
 Woodrow Wilson, all for you. 
 
 God heard at once our fathers' prayers 
 And He blessed them from the start. 
 A sublime work He had for them 
 His great blessings to impart. 
 
 Just think how poor and frail we were 
 Back in fourteen ninety-two, 
 Columbus landed on our shore, 
 Woodrow Wilson, calling you. 
 
 How thankful, now the time has come,- 
 Yes, God's blessing to impart 
 And shed abroad through all our land. 
 Contrite spirit, all thine art. 
 
 Remember now our Washington, 
 Grand and noble man was he, 
 Who gave our countiy four long years 
 Of services without a fee. 
 
 O, our President, Woodrow Wilson, 
 Might your mission to you bring 
 No heartache, with grief and sadness, 
 But with consolation ring. 
 54 
 
DO 
 
 For so soon it will be springtime 
 And how happy we will be, 
 When we hear sweet strains of music 
 Floating back so full and free. 
 
 May the glittering rays of sunshine 
 Brighten up our earthly path. 
 Strengthening all your power and motives. 
 Keep you firm until the last. 
 
 HELEN 
 
 At Lewis 0. eleven's residence, 
 
 On January twenty-first. 
 Our little darling came to earth. 
 
 Her presence here gave no offense. 
 
 She is a lady well refined 
 As any one could seek or find, 
 
 And if she always lives thus pure. 
 
 She'll go to Heaven, none's more sure. 
 
 Her features they are pure and bright, 
 Her eyes they shine like stars by night. 
 
 Her ears by far are in good place. 
 And beauty spreads all o'er her face. 
 
 She with her little nose can smell. 
 While with her tongue she tries to tell 
 
 The joys of childhood's happy days. 
 As with her Christmas toys she plays. 
 
 Her ringlets, now of nut brown hair, 
 Require a trait of greatest care. 
 
 Her little hands the doll doth hold. 
 More precious now than purest gold. 
 
 Her little feet they totter round. 
 
 They seem to make a mellow sound. 
 
 With instincts like the busy bee. 
 That always seems so cheerfully. 
 55 
 
Her little voice is clear and good, 
 Her words are always understood. 
 
 Her little face with truth doth shine, 
 Her spirit now is all divine. 
 
 This little dear, with future bright. 
 Doth fill her home with pure delight. 
 
 She presses onward up towards Heaven, 
 Her name is Helen Virginia Cleven. 
 
 FAIRY QUEEN 
 
 She's just as sweet as she can be, 
 And once she said that she loved me, 
 S© I'll go roaming on through space. 
 And dreaming only of her face. 
 
 She's just as pretty as can be, 
 And used to write so much to me. 
 But now I've journeyed far away. 
 And she no more will me obey. 
 
 Her eyes are really blue you know, 
 And really my heart loved her so, 
 Oh can I ever now forget. 
 Her sweet caresses haunt me yet. 
 
 For all her mirth so rich and fair. 
 Her loving words float on the air. 
 Oh could I but her heart retain. 
 Relieve my conscience of this pain. 
 
 Her work, you know, is teaching school, 
 Bore in her hands so oft a rule. 
 Oh could there be a diadem 
 Like His, for her, in Bethlehem. 
 
 For she is one I loved, indeed. 
 And often with me did she plead, 
 I loved to hear her accents fall. 
 As she'd come tripping thi-ough the hall. 
 56 
 
Just like a Fairy's little Queen, 
 
 With eyes so blue and dress of green, 
 
 She'd flit about in perfect ease. 
 
 And tried so hard her friends to please. 
 
 Her gentle voice I no more hear. 
 For me it seems so strange and queer, 
 I'm sure she did increase my pi'ide. 
 When she was sitting by my side. 
 
 I often thought, what does she think? 
 Her hair so black and cheeks so pink, 
 Her lips were red just like the rose. 
 Her heart told me I should propose. 
 
 Oh could there be a joy, a jest. 
 Like this for one soul in the west? 
 He then would gain a title clear. 
 From sin and shame and malice here. 
 
 I'd ever live to glorify 
 That little girl who said good bye. 
 She is the fairest one to me, 
 She is the one I wish to see. 
 
 She's just as sweet as she can be, 
 And once she said that the loved me, 
 So I'll go roaming on through space. 
 And dreaming only of her face. 
 
 THE SUN 
 
 When morning comes, with Sun so clear, 
 Doth fill our rested heads with cheer. 
 While in its bright transparent rays. 
 The Maker we shall always praise. 
 
 Its light doth kindly give us day, 
 It drives the darkest cloud away. 
 Its glow doth fall like kisses warm. 
 It's presence never does man harm. 
 
 57 
 
>g^ 
 
 Beautiful Sun, how old art thou? 
 And still you look so bright and new 
 Through skies that have no form of dew, 
 I'd like to roam each day with you. 
 
 For while I'd roam each day I'd be 
 Amused by planets that I'd see. 
 To traverse on in space like thee 
 For God made you and God made me. 
 
 But he made you the cheerful Sun 
 To rule the day while work is done. 
 That man might note your power divine. 
 Created you to bless mankind. 
 
 But God made me a sinful man. 
 With a bald head and cheeks of tan. 
 He placed the Bible in my hand. 
 The history of a perfect man. 
 
 But he made you the cheerful Sun, 
 
 The Bible says, when World begun, 
 
 Through all the ages of the past. 
 
 And still your strengthening rays doth last. 
 
 But God made me to live and die, 
 While you will still be soaring high. 
 The things of earth will fade away, 
 Our bodies must return to clay. 
 
 But God made you the cheerful Sun, 
 I know not how his task was done. 
 I only know your face is neat. 
 Therefore his work was all complete. 
 
 But God made man out of the dust. 
 And in him we should always trust. 
 He blew his breath in Adam's nose. 
 And man became a living soul. 
 
 When morning comes, with Sun so clear, 
 Doth fill our rested heads with cheer. 
 While in its bright transparent rays. 
 The Maker we shall always praise. 
 58 
 
THE LOVER'S PRAYER 
 
 There's a tall and graceful lady, 
 Hair dark brown, with eyes of blue. 
 
 Much I'd love to see her coming, 
 For I know her heart is true. 
 
 Many are her deeds of kindness. 
 
 Shown to all in need of care; 
 For I'm sure there is no other 
 
 Who has ever been so fair. 
 She possess pride and beauty, 
 
 Many are her laurels won. 
 Give me time, without a murmur, 
 
 I could name them one by one. 
 She is fresh with morning sweetness. 
 
 Sweet as the dewdrops of the vine. 
 Oh, might God inspire her nature — 
 
 Fall in touch with that of mine. 
 She with true and loyal instincts. 
 
 Like her Savior, still sublime. 
 Pointing out the path to sunshine 
 
 Only found in courts divine. 
 Listen, loved one, hark in silence! 
 
 Your dear father's old and gray. 
 Could you leave this eastern country. 
 
 And with me go miles away. 
 Brighter than the stars of Heaven, 
 
 Like that of the glittering sun. 
 My poor mother's face would smile, dear, 
 
 While she'd say, "My son, well done!" 
 Take him, girl, and love him, will you? 
 
 As I've loved in days of yore; 
 For he'll have no one to teach him 
 
 Only what I've taught before. 
 Now, my prayer is almost finished; 
 
 Here, my dear, please let me say, 
 Lead his young and tender footsteps 
 
 In the straight and narrow way. 
 59 
 
MONTHS IN RHYME 
 
 With January, year begins, 
 Welcoming the New Year In, 
 With chilly air and banks of snow 
 Gleaming in the sun's bright glow. 
 
 While February's slush and rain 
 Gently taps our window pane, 
 While little folks so calm and still 
 Gather round our widow sill. 
 
 March brings wind so rude and blast, 
 Rushing- by so loud and fast. 
 The ship at sea doth set her sails 
 Weather her terrific gales. 
 
 While April brings us warm spring showers. 
 Cheers these saddened hearts of ours 
 With violets bright near knoll and rill, 
 Nature gives this old world still. 
 
 May brings to us the fragrant flowers 
 Winding castles, lofty towers. 
 And bids to all a sheer delight. 
 Watch the falling stars at night. 
 
 June brings to us the fairest rose, 
 Cupids wear when they propose. 
 While with our pole and fishing hook 
 Journey leads us to the brook. 
 
 July bears sun's most ardent glow, 
 Focused on this earth below. 
 It brings to us a well filled store. 
 Keeps us one or two years more. 
 
 While August brings the sheaves of grain, 
 Hopes renewed for future gain. 
 The bumble-bee and asp and wasp 
 Cozy snuggled in the moss. 
 60 
 
September brings the orchards fair, 
 Decked with fruit so rich and rare. 
 The apples now are picked and packed, 
 Carted to the railroad track. 
 
 October brown with nuts and corn, 
 Frost and wind brings to the ground, 
 While after school the boys and girls 
 Pick them up with tossing curls. 
 
 November brings the beating blast, 
 Leaves are falling thick and fast. 
 Thanksgiving's joyful day has come, 
 Mr. Turkey's day is done. 
 
 December's gales so harsh and bleak, 
 They paint the roses on our cheeks. 
 The brightest smiles of the old year, 
 December brings with Christmas cheer. 
 
 61 
 
THE HONEY BEE 
 
 On linden when the sun was low. 
 All decked with blossoms white as snow. 
 The richness of their new born birth 
 Makes sweetest honey known on earth. 
 
 The woodlands rich with linden's bower 
 Attracts the honey bee's great power. 
 Her circling then was easy caught 
 Around the linden's lofty top. 
 
 From early morn till sun grows dim, 
 She hums with dainty form so prim. 
 While onward speeding to and fro, 
 Sipped honey from the linden's blow. 
 
 She lights with ease, then takes a draught. 
 In fear her little limbs are caught, 
 She rises up, her wings doth roar. 
 To see if she could carry more. 
 
 At last her graceful form doth bear 
 Appearance of her queen most rare; 
 She slowly rises with her load. 
 And never plays along the road. 
 
 The queen's most wholesome little brood 
 
 Has now become so wild and rude; 
 
 In early May they cry and pout, 
 
 Till one warm day she moves right out. 
 
 Their home they started all anew. 
 In linden's trunk they lived, 'tis true; 
 Their bright new suits with streaks of brown, 
 All ready now their queen to crown. 
 
 So cunning is the little bee. 
 That sings around so merrily; 
 Their daily work they know so well, 
 No author can their story tell. 
 62 
 
CLARK'S GAP 
 
 Amid the nooks and rolling uplands, 
 
 Near Virginia's lofty peaks, 
 Where the sun's i-ays are so strengthening. 
 
 And the zephyrs seem to speak. 
 
 The onward rush of fresh pure water, 
 Here springs forth, from mountain steep; 
 
 Goes rippling, speeding on her way 
 O'er craig towards boundless deep. 
 
 Through valley, crossing public highway. 
 She makes time, but calmly creeps. 
 
 Yes, towards that home prepared for her, 
 The Atlantic rocks to sleep. 
 
 May we possess such motives only. 
 
 As divine men learn to speak. 
 Oh may we hoard them up as treasurers, 
 
 In this city so to speak. 
 
 Within and near this mountain city, 
 
 Many shining lights doth keep. 
 Yes, priceless pearls of stately manhood. 
 
 Rise in demonstrative speech. 
 
 All zephyrs here in godlike nature. 
 Swells man's bosom, to the brim, 
 
 The onward rush, in books for knowledge. 
 Bound to reach the goal that wins. 
 
 May God's great touch with just one finger. 
 Drop upon the Clark's Gap school, 
 
 On earth inspire their noble leader, 
 Keep him near the Golden Rule. 
 
 Oh may we here, in Leesburg proper. 
 
 Press towards the lofty peak, 
 Where man so flush and filled with vigor. 
 
 Like the zephyr made to speak. 
 63 
 
May God's great care and watchful motives, 
 Guide and lead our weary feet, 
 
 Along that straight and narrow pathway. 
 Till our journey is complete. 
 
 Oh God of love, and God of pity, 
 
 May you ever hear our cry. 
 And when this mountain journey's ended, 
 
 Take us to thine home on high. 
 
 JEHOVAH 
 
 O, Jehovah, precious light. 
 Ever keep us in thy sight; 
 Guide us while on earth below. 
 As we journey to and fro. 
 Keep us in the narrow path. 
 While our pilgrimage doth last. 
 May we keep the laws of old. 
 As the precept of our goal, 
 May the bright and morning star, 
 Lead the way for King and Czar. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 O Jehovah, precious light, 
 May He rule whose way is right. 
 Spare us from disgrace and shame. 
 Help us bear an honest name. 
 May Thy spirit ever be, 
 Dwelling constant Lord with me. 
 Might our patience be like Job's, 
 As we travel dreary roads. 
 Scatter o'er the sands of time. 
 Words and glowing thoughts of rhyme. 
 Help us Christian lives to lead. 
 With the unsaved daily plead, 
 God will brighten then our path, 
 While on earth our days shall last. 
 64 
 
PART III. 
 
 O Jehovah, thou art King, 
 Might we talents to you bring; 
 Honored all and rich in store. 
 Teach thy laws for ever more, 
 Lifting up the fallen race 
 In all seasons time and place. 
 May our prayers unite with yours. 
 Bringing peace to Europe's powers. 
 Bloody wars shall be no more, 
 God will bless the rich and poor. 
 Then the protestant and the priest, 
 Will assemble all in peace. 
 
 TOO LATE 
 
 Well might these words, through love and grace, 
 Pour out some blessings, to embrace, 
 And lead all sinners firm by faith, 
 To meet their Saviour, face to face. 
 
 Too late, too late, we hear the cry, 
 Our Saviour now is passing by. 
 These hearts of our in pain and grief, 
 The future now, brings no relief. 
 
 Oh why should we his presence fear 
 On Calvary's Cross, a crown did wear — 
 His bleeding side, and pitted hands 
 A stranger in this wicked land. 
 
 Oh why should mortal man on earth 
 Jesus scorn — of Holy birth — 
 Reject his pleading, welcome call. 
 And ever from his presence fall. 
 65 
 
ON LAKE ERIE 
 
 Calm was the morn when we retired, 
 
 On Erie's shore, and there inquired 
 
 For a steamboat, one ready then, 
 
 Would soon strike out, called William Penn. 
 
 This was the name of that steamboat. 
 A gun was fired, and off we float, 
 Though calm and disturbed we go. 
 Full soon the stormy winds did blow. 
 
 The boat was rocking, rolling, tipping. 
 Turning sideways, bowing, dipping; 
 Water spouting, hearts a failing. 
 Streams twelve feet above the railing. 
 
 Mournful cries and squalls all round us, 
 All reached shore and no harm found us; 
 Farewell, farewell to William Penn, 
 She travels Erie now and then. 
 
 But she no more shall carry me, 
 I care no more her deck to see, 
 For when I reached the other shore 
 I bade her farewell evermoi'e. 
 
 DECEMBER MORN 
 
 When the golden sun is setting in the far off western sky; 
 when you have a leisure moment as the speeding days go 
 by; when you"re resting in the attic in your cosy little bed, 
 will you sometimes thing of Robert, how he soothed your 
 aching- head? How he rallied when you beckoned, that his 
 presence should be near. Many years he's toiled and waited; 
 your poor heart that he might cheer. Now when victory 
 crowns your efforts, will you take him far away; guide and 
 lead his weary footsteps in the straight and narrow way? 
 
One December's wintry morning, 'neath the archway of your 
 door, came a broken hearted stranger, one you'd never seen 
 before. At your doorway cold and chilly, mid December's 
 wintry blast, there you stood and viewed your sweetheart; 
 since that day long years have passed. You remember how 
 the snow flakes then were twirling thick and fast. While that 
 stranger sought a dwelling of his sweetheart, kind and true; 
 her sweet smiles had gently told him of a love he never knew. 
 In that far off northern country, o'er Wisconsin's vale he 
 looked; it was there he found his sweetheart, near a little 
 babbling brook. Then his heart was filled with glowing, 
 though his feet and hands were chill, something through his 
 veins went singing, like the merry whip-poor-will. She a tall 
 and graceful lady, hair pure white, with eyes of blue; much 
 he longs to see her coming, for he knows her heart is true. 
 Many are the miles he journeyed, o'er several states he's 
 roamed, semingly so fondly dreaming of that cold December 
 morn. Let the love light ever sparkle, may it light our 
 future path, onward through the years that crown us, may 
 we not regret the past. 
 
 THE HUMAN BODY 
 
 Many are these merrbers in one body joined, they are all 
 very useful together, we find; these members, though many, 
 in union agree, the head formed for planning, the eyes made 
 to see. The ears made for hearing, the tongue made to talk, 
 the nose made for smelling, and feet made to walk. Our 
 hands formed for labor, to earn food and clothes, and still 
 not forgetting thumbs, fingers and toes. Now, how could 
 these members be changed all about, mankind wrong end up- 
 wards and inside turned out. His hands formed for walking, 
 his head dangling down, his feet upwards v/agging and wear- 
 ing the crown. The sepulcher showing just what it con- 
 tains, it seems much disgusting that man thus remains. The 
 heart and the intent, far best all inclosed, far best as creat- 
 ed, inside out of sight. Our Creator, our Maker, man is sub- 
 lime. Thy works, oh God, has made man know thou art 
 Divinity. 
 
 67 
 
CREATION 
 
 Ever since the great creation 
 
 Man has wandered far and wide, 
 
 O'er the deserts. Oh! most dreary. 
 O'er the ocean's rolling tide. 
 
 Ever since the great creation 
 Woman's traveled by man's side. 
 
 And without her love and frienship 
 This great world would have no pride. 
 
 Ever since the great creation 
 
 There has been one brilliant life. 
 
 That has lead man's sturdy footsteps 
 As the day turns into night. 
 
 Ever since the great creation 
 Man can say and not be wrong, 
 
 Woman's fought her trials bravely. 
 And to her great praise belongs. 
 
 Ever since the great creation 
 Woman's tried but all in vain, 
 
 For to create legislation. 
 Whereby they might meet some gain. 
 
 Ever since the great creation 
 Man has tried but all in vain. 
 
 For to mend the administration, 
 But at last it's caused him pain. 
 
 Ever since the great creation 
 The sun, stars and moon shone too, 
 
 Woman's done and done so bravely 
 Many things that man can't do. 
 
 Ever since the great creation 
 
 God intended it to be, 
 That the beauty of our country 
 
 Is the little ones we see. 
 68 
 
JO 
 
 Ever since the great creation 
 
 That our Saviour planned so well, 
 
 There has been a joy of gladness, 
 That no human tongue could tell. 
 
 Ever since the great creation 
 
 God has planned that man might see, 
 
 That his great and noble teaching 
 Brings about great liberty. 
 
 Ever since the great creation 
 
 Man and woman both have sinned, 
 
 Do not wait till death has called you 
 And your spirit life begins. 
 
 Ever since the great creation 
 Rough has been the road of toil. 
 
 Sprinkled by our Pilgrim Fathers 
 Left for us a tainted soil. 
 
 Ever since the great creation 
 Men are changing day by day, 
 
 And I hope the time not distant 
 When our Congressmen will say: 
 
 Ever since the great creation 
 Man has written all our law, 
 
 And our band is now in session 
 Good old liquor you must go. 
 
 MISSIVE 
 
 Should somebody love me, and call me her beau; 
 A bright smiling lady, with me she could go; 
 A heart that is tender, knows nothing but love. 
 And led by a spirit, that comes from above. 
 
 This heart with great sadness, that's filled to the brim; 
 A new life of gladness, I'd try to begin. 
 Forgetting the days of much sorrow and pain. 
 We'd live in the future to brighten His name. 
 69 
 
xr^x 
 
 With Jesus to guide us, a home up above, 
 That never knew sadness, or nothing but love. 
 Our lives would be better, and guided by bliss. 
 Each day would be started, with one loving kiss. 
 
 We hope that the echoes of past years will go. 
 And leave us no memories, our hearts to o'erflow. 
 Possessing the gentle and kind loving trace. 
 A sweet little boy with smiles on his face. 
 
 Oh Robert, I hear thee, thy song in dismay. 
 You've waited in life till a most dreary day. 
 My song is my Galiot, my motive divine. 
 For Jesus doth lead me. His will is sublime. 
 
 THE HEART'S LAMENT 
 
 Mid the vales and rolling uplands. 
 
 Near Virginia's lofty peaks. 
 Where the sun's rays are so strengthening 
 
 And the zephyrs seem to speak. 
 
 There's one little blue-eyed maiden, 
 And whose voice I long to hear 
 
 Tell me of her love and frienship. 
 For her stories are most dear. 
 
 My body's worn and weary. 
 
 Mid the tumult in the west; 
 My thoughts revert to friendship 
 
 For the one that I love best. 
 
 What can I do but linger 
 
 Near the fancy that I bear, 
 And today my heart is lonely. 
 
 World is dreary everywhere. 
 
 Oh, my dear friend. May's mother. 
 Speak to father, let him know; 
 
 Took me in her arms and loved me 
 Just before she let me go. 
 
 70 
 
DO 
 
 Tell me if j'ou love me, dearie, 
 Tell me if your heart beats true, 
 
 Tell me if you'll love me ever, 
 If that same love cares for you. 
 
 Made me promise come to see her, 
 
 And I told her I'd see you; 
 That she was my blue-eyed sweetheart; 
 
 May's dear mother, this is true. 
 
 Now my heart cries out, Virginia, 
 Near the vale of Shenandoah. 
 
 Lives there the dearest maiden; 
 It is there I want to go. 
 
 Her tresses groomed and shining, 
 Black as raven's autumn coat, 
 
 Makes me long for her caresses 
 And the love notes that she wrote. 
 
 Now I'm fallen by the wayside. 
 
 In a dreary, lonely land; 
 And my heart each day doth beckon, 
 
 Virginia's blue-eyed maiden's hand. 
 
 LIFE'S EXPERIENCE 
 
 I've traveled with all classes of people, 
 I've trodden the highways of strife. 
 
 And to tell what I learned on my journey 
 Is one of the pleasures of life. 
 
 I've met many a coward and brave one, 
 I've met with the halt and the blind, 
 
 I've plead with the ones that were ugly, 
 I have laughed with the ones that were kind. 
 
 With the sinful and grave I have listened 
 To stories and songs that were vile, 
 
 I have traveled with beauty and culture. 
 With those that I loved for a while. 
 71 
 
When at last by a freak of their nature, 
 All bands of their virtue and trust 
 
 Soon had crumbled like glass that is broken, 
 The heart that is stilled by a thrust. 
 
 I have laughed with the ones that were happy, 
 When smiles were all over their face. 
 
 I have wept with the ones that were crying 
 For sins that were known to our race. 
 
 There's one thing I have learned on my travels 
 While passing the highways of life. 
 
 Do not judge by the outward appearance. 
 The virtue of those may be rife. 
 
 There are eyes, as we see them seem speaking. 
 Oh could we but hear what they say. 
 
 All the deeds of the vile and the sinful. 
 Would vanish from night into day. 
 
 The face that's now sanctimonious. 
 Oft times hide the heart that is vile. 
 
 We should pray for a total salvation 
 And conquer the life that's worth while. 
 
 While the heart in its deep hidden chambers, 
 
 Will vanish the evil and sad, 
 Holy Spirit and Jesus, our Saviour, 
 
 Will enter to keep out the bad. 
 
 I've traveled with all classes of people. 
 
 For me, let me choose as I will, 
 When a journey I take in the mountains, 
 
 A man that has God with him still. 
 
 72 
 
The disaster ol the great Titanic, which was in her day 
 the largest steam ship afloat, occurred on her maiden voyage 
 off the coast of Newfoundland where she collided with an 
 iceherg about 2:30 a. m., April 15th, 1912. Seventy-two 
 score and fifteen people perished. 
 
TITANIC DISASTER 
 
 Calm was the morn when friends retired on England's shore 
 and there inquired for a steamship, one ready then the great 
 Titanic, is your friend. Starboard and port side looked so 
 fair, old England's pride was centered there. How calm and 
 undisturbed they go, but soon they strike the icy flow. The 
 monster ship she reeked and groaned, way out at sea, but not 
 alone, Newfoundland's icebergs there secrete, while many 
 souls were fast asleep. Ship was rolling, rocking, tipping, 
 turning sideways, bowing, dipping, water rising, hearts a 
 failing, soon approached above the railing. Mournful cries 
 and wails all round us, selfish pride securely bound us, 
 Europe a friend, but not my God, America's pathways I have 
 trod. 
 
 "Nearer My God to Thee." 
 She was raised in dear old England, 'Twas their shore that 
 gave her birth, launched she was among the billows, known 
 to all who live on earth. Mark her flight on history's pages, 
 there her name will live renown, mid the ocean's surging 
 waters, our dear friends, with her, went down. Name she 
 bore they call Titanic, dreadful was the course she led, 
 speeding onward fast, and faster, now a bivouac of the dead. 
 There amid the chilly waters, icebergs floating all around, 
 shouts for safety soon were crying, our Titanic's going down. 
 
 "Nearer My God to Thee." 
 By and by the life boats lowered to the ruthless waves below, 
 seemingly so small and helpless, passengers declined to go. 
 Soon the helpless wailing voices ceased their dreary drastic 
 tones, as the great Titanic started on her way to dwell un- 
 known. Sweetly were the strains of music. Oh, my friends, 
 what can it be? Mid the darkness, o'er the ocean. Nearer, 
 nearer God to thee. 
 
 "Nearer My God to Thee." 
 Lonely were the life boats drifting, their great hero gone to 
 rest, now among the ocean's victims, may each soul our 
 Saviour bless. Seventy nine score, and fifteen buried neath 
 Atlantic's peaceful breast. Yes, most dreadful thing mid- 
 ocean, lives paid vampire's call by death. Well might God's 
 
 73 
 
t ^ ^" ^ — ^ 
 
 appointed angels circle round that zone by night, wooing back 
 those silent spirits, while that demon made his flight. God 
 of love and God of pity, may you ever hear our cry. Bring us 
 back some consolation, here on earth before we die. Morning 
 ing light was now approaching without rescue, hearts in fear, 
 did Newfoundland's icebergs take them, our true friends who 
 were so dear? Was it God's omnipotent finger, stretched to- 
 ward that sinful craft? Forget not our Lord and Master, who 
 shall reign supreme at last. 
 "Nearer My God to Thee." 
 
 STUART BURTON 
 
 Stuart Burton, my good friend, 
 Hearts together we shall blend. 
 Ripen virtues as we spend. 
 Time and labor with our pen. 
 
 Your esteem for me today. 
 Makes Decembers work but play, 
 Flowing through these veins of mine. 
 Soul and spirit both in rhyme. 
 
 Stuart Burton, my good friend. 
 Letters from Virginia send. 
 Tells me of his Christmas tide. 
 And of those who since have died. 
 
 But a vision to me comes. 
 Like the honey bee it hums. 
 Her sweet smiling face so dear. 
 One who filled your heart with cheer. 
 
 Stuart Burton, my good friend. 
 All through life we'll each defend. 
 Firesides bright celestial glow. 
 Side by side through life we'll go. 
 74 
 
DO 
 
 Like the merry birds of spring, 
 Our old hearts will daily ring. 
 And with rapture loud and wild. 
 Playful like the little child. 
 
 Stuart Burton, my true friend, 
 Like tv.'o gooseberries on the stem, 
 Riffraff of this life we'll pass 
 Seeking naught but Heaven at last. 
 
 Records clear we must possess, 
 Give each other happiness. 
 Now for you I will propose, 
 Sweetheart's love and home's repose. 
 
 Stuart Burton, my true friend, 
 Shall I fill your glass again, 
 With the nectar Neptune gives, 
 Permits you and I to live. 
 
 In the future we'll prepare, 
 Make our lives a blessing there. 
 Sell these books to old and young. 
 Life for us has just begun. 
 
 Stuart Burton, my true friend. 
 Steed midsummer would you lend. 
 Through the Shenandoah we'd go. 
 Coining money to and fro. 
 
 Life would be for us complete, 
 We could dress so clean and neat. 
 All the people would agree. 
 Book like this they never see. 
 
 Stuart Burton, my old friend. 
 Fellowship to you I'll send, 
 We might profit each alike. 
 In this volume I did write. 
 
 While you read in God I'll trust, 
 My first volume will not rust. 
 Uniform, congenial pride. 
 Those who buy are satisfied. 
 
 75 
 
LAURELS FOR THE BLUE AND GRAY 
 
 1861 — 1865 
 
 Ever since we gained our freedom 
 From King George beyond the sea, 
 
 There has been a gentle zephyr 
 Telling us the slaves to free. 
 
 Though for years there was a brewing 
 
 In the Northland and the south, 
 For the colored ones in bondage 
 
 Lincoln called his comrades out. 
 
 Our good and loyal statesman 
 
 In vain tried to calm the storm. 
 They could find no balm of healing. 
 
 Till our stars were rent and torn. 
 
 Many Southern States decide. 
 
 In our union not to be, 
 All the other states protested. 
 
 Our broad land, all must be free. 
 
 Sixty one our armies mustered. 
 
 Defend what they thought was right. 
 Nothing then could save our soldiers 
 
 From a bloody war and strife. 
 
 When the contest came in earnest. 
 
 All forgot that they were kin: 
 Fathers fought to kill each other. 
 
 Feeling sure their side would win. 
 
 For the passion that they cherished. 
 These, our brothers, fought and died. 
 
 They were heroes for our country. 
 Blue and Gray lay side by side. 
 
 Gallant sons of feeble fathers. 
 
 Brave and strong as man can be. 
 Gave their life to save the Union, 
 
 And to make all people free. 
 76 
 
Four long years that struggle lasted, 
 
 Bloody as the wars of yore; 
 Many thousand men were fighting, 
 
 And our land was rent with gore. 
 
 Finally the war was ended, 
 Tears and blood paid price of sin, 
 
 Wrong can not subdue the righteous, 
 God is love and right will win. 
 
 Then once more our Saviour blessed us, 
 Stronger bound us than before. 
 
 North and South and East and West lands 
 Are all one for evermore. 
 
 For Old Glory floats in beauty. 
 O'er our mainland and the sea. 
 
 All the states are proud to own her. 
 Glorious banner of the free. 
 
 We have learned to love each other. 
 
 North and South and East and West, 
 Let the past now be forgotten, 
 • And our fallen heroes rest. 
 
 Then when roses bloom about us, 
 And their fragrance fills the air. 
 
 All assembled there together. 
 May we all our tributes bear. 
 
 Let us carry sweetest flowers. 
 
 All alike for blue and gray. 
 With our reverence deep and holy, 
 
 O'er the heroes graves we'll lay. 
 
 Marching on through time forever. 
 
 One in blue and one in gray, 
 For the past should be forgotten, 
 
 On our Decoration Day. 
 
 For sometimes we'll go to see them. 
 Blessed land where none are dead. 
 
 All our friends will then assemble. 
 Round our narrow, chilly bed. 
 77 
 
God of love, and God of pity, 
 Hear our poor and humble cry. 
 
 When our earthly journey's ended. 
 Take us to your home on high. 
 
 POEM BIBLE REHEARSAL 
 
 Genesis is a history 
 
 Of this world's early days. 
 The author we should learn to know, 
 
 Observe with greatest praise. 
 
 Exodus is the second book 
 
 This Holy man did write. 
 His laws were pure and undefiled, 
 
 There's Ten that shine so bright. 
 
 Leviticus is the third book. 
 
 That we must stop and read; 
 For the burnt things of this world fall. 
 
 Like flocks and fowls and weed. 
 
 Numbers doth record the fourth book. 
 
 All people here below, 
 The Levites were a chosen tribe, 
 
 God gave the order so. 
 
 Deuteronomy is the fifth hook, 
 
 This ancient author gives 
 Teaches us to know in this world, 
 
 Exactly how to live. 
 
 Joshua records the sixth book. 
 
 Our God's appointed man 
 To succeed the one before him. 
 
 In that most holy land. 
 
 Judges recalls the seventh book, 
 
 Of this world's awful woe, 
 When lives were lost and blood was shed- 
 
 They loved Jehovah so. 
 78 
 
O IZDO 
 
 Ruth, the eighth book, we're glad to read; 
 
 The author makes it plain. 
 That women in those ancient days — 
 
 God blessed their holy name. 
 
 Samuel, first book, makes number nine, 
 
 Though once was but a babe, 
 But soon a king he grew to be, 
 
 Israel's judgment made. 
 
 Samuel, second book, number ten. 
 
 The Amalekite was slain, 
 His fate was marked upon Saul's brow. 
 
 While David reeked in pain. 
 
 Kings, number one, the eleventh book, 
 
 Their third term now begins; 
 While David's old and much confined, 
 
 Adonijah courage brings. 
 
 Kings, the second book, twelve in all, 
 
 Moab rebellion chose; 
 Elijah fire from Heaven brought. 
 
 That he might feel his woes. 
 
 Chronicles, first, the thirteenth book, 
 
 Genealogy in store 
 To the time our Saviour came, 
 
 And many years before. 
 
 Chronicles, second, fourteenth book, 
 
 Much strength and riches, too. 
 Possessed in one so wise and good — 
 
 From this our Masons grew. 
 
 Ezra brings out the fifteenth book, 
 
 A history all complete. 
 Of Persia's famed and loyal land. 
 
 With her biography neat. 
 
 Nehemiah, the sixteenth book 
 
 The Bible doth contain, 
 A history of Jerusalem, 
 
 Of fire, and sin, and shame. 
 
 79 
 
Esther, the seventeenth book we see, 
 
 This woman did reject 
 The wine and costly gowns to wear. 
 
 At Ahasuerus' request. 
 
 Job, eighteenth book we have in view; 
 
 His faith we find so firm, 
 This book now we should study up. 
 
 And see what we can learn. 
 
 Psalms, nineteenth book, we gladly bear. 
 Great David's psalms we sing. 
 
 While music charms the sinner's ear — 
 Let earth with voices ring. 
 
 Proverbs, twentieth book, relates, 
 
 To shun all sin and shame, 
 And always live in fear of God, 
 
 'Twas He, who suffered pain. 
 
 Ecclesiastes, twenty-one, 
 
 The preachers now should shout. 
 And bring the people back in form. 
 
 For Jesus he's left out. 
 
 Solomon's Song, book twenty-two. 
 The church her love confessed 
 
 For God who now sits on the throne. 
 And ever shall be blessed. 
 
 Isaiah, twenty-third book, inscribes 
 
 Judah's rebelling woes. 
 And rendered God persistent prayers 
 
 Of his tumultuous foes. 
 
 Jeremiah, twenty-fourth book, 
 
 The time had fully come 
 When this great saint was shown the rod 
 
 By our Almighty God. 
 
 Lamentations of Jeremiah, 
 
 Twenty-fifth book we scan, 
 Jerusalem's awful peril — 
 
 The Lord was in command. 
 80 
 
Ezekiel, the twenty-sixth book, 
 
 His vision's glory reigns, 
 A judgment God gave Israel, 
 
 The prophet made it plain. 
 
 Daniel, the twenty-seventh book. 
 
 Our Maker's strength we find. 
 Came reaching forth, with quickening powers, 
 
 Subduing all mankind. 
 
 Hosea, twenty-eighth book we find, 
 
 God's judgment he construed. 
 As teacher in that wicked land, 
 
 A loyal course pursued. 
 
 Joel, twenty-ninth book, we read 
 
 God's judgment will be known. 
 He repenteth and he fasteth. 
 
 And likewise he doth mourn. 
 
 Amos, with the thirtieth book, 
 
 Of God's revealing power. 
 Necessity of his judgment, 
 
 Increasing every hour. 
 
 Obediah, the thirty-first book, 
 
 Edom's destruction grew; 
 In pride their sinj had led them on. 
 
 With violence they pursue. 
 
 Jonah makes the thirty-second book. 
 
 To Tarsish he would go — 
 He faced a tempest on his way, 
 
 The sea was raging so. 
 
 Micah, thirty-third book in place; 
 
 Jacob, he promised aid. 
 If he would walk the narrow path, 
 
 That God himself had made. 
 
 Xahum, thirty-fourth book we find, 
 
 The victorious armies fought — 
 The sin and peril of Nineveh, 
 
 Great God her ruin brought. 
 81 
 
Habakkuk, thirty-nfth book, 
 His voice in trembling fell, 
 
 In fear of God's great majesty, 
 Who calmed the sea, "be still.'' 
 
 Zachariah, thirty-eighth book, 
 God judging Judah's fate; 
 
 A shining light might lead the way. 
 For Israel nears the gate. 
 
 Haggai, thirty-seventh book we view. 
 The structures made of stone, 
 
 A greater joy to them would come — 
 The building of the throne. 
 
 Zechariah, thirty-eighth book. 
 In comfort Jerusalem stands, 
 
 A promise God has given her. 
 We know she understands. 
 
 Malachi, thirty-ninth book, the end, 
 Wonderful volume's done. 
 
 Of Israel's great unkindness, 
 Her profanity just begun. 
 
 WHEN THE KAISER'S HORN DID TOOT 
 
 I have read of Roman triumphs, in the days when Rome 
 played ball, but today lays stunned and bleeding, from an 
 earthquake's dreadful call. When victorious Roman generals 
 were to march their legions straight, right across the German 
 Empire, to the British channel gate, for to conquer there the 
 Kaiser and to make him pay the freight. For the Kaiser runs 
 an Empire, and on their trail he'd be too late, so the French- 
 men wrote the Czar, sir; and the Czar, sir, wrote the Pope: 
 "If the Allies whip the Kaiser, you will have to help us out." 
 But the Pope said he was neutral, but he'd see what he could 
 do, so he wrote a letter back, sir, that to me seemed rather 
 blue. Roumania will march one million soldiers for im- 
 mediate relief. Marble hearts and frozen shoulders turned 
 
 82 
 
their generals to their chief. So the Allies hailed their master 
 with a rapture past belief. What though France lay stunned 
 and bleeding, she arose and got too gay, for the Germans lay 
 there watching; soon the dickens was to pay. Though the 
 passion Allies cherished was to fill the Teutons' boot, but 
 they'll find the Kaiser ready, when their little horn they 
 toot. 
 
 Though he'd slain unnumbered soldiers, and returned to slay 
 some more, but the Germans stood there ready to pour forth 
 their utmost gore. So they bade the Kaiser ready, whooped and 
 roared in sheer delight, on their knees they begged, implored 
 him to pull off another fight; for the British were the demons 
 that had caused the bloody strife — thus they cried and laughed 
 and shouted as if "jagged" — it was a sight. But the passion 
 that they cherished lingered, for old Johnnie's swell galoot. 
 As the weather now reached zero, when the Kaiser's horn 
 did toot. I have read of Queen Victoria and her Diamond 
 Jubilee; of King Edward, who was handsome; of King 
 George who now we see. Long and glittering was their pro- 
 cession, beat the Ringling's best to death, when at Antwerp 
 they were beaten, all of Europe held their breath. Troops 
 of white and black and yellow, regiments from the north and 
 south, all the glory of Great Britain, pomped until they had 
 the gout, simply lay in trenches waiting for to starve the 
 Germans out. Though the passion Allies cherished was to 
 fill the Teutons' boot, but they'll find the Kaiser ready, when 
 their little horn they toot. 
 
 Russia also cut a figure when she crowned the reigning 
 Czar, but their troops, when they had started, found Berlin 
 was much too far. They had bugles, balls, and fireworks; 
 their brass bands and cannons roared. But the German lay 
 in Poland, and they let them keep their pace, till the tall and 
 grizzly monster showed its wild and wooly face. Add the 
 Russians' show to England, take the paralyzing pair, put the 
 King and Czar together, add the Frenchman and the Jap, and 
 they'll find the Germans ready when they want another scrap. 
 But the Frenchman, he was angry, so he parleyed round about 
 for he was afraid to enter, and to stand and fight It out. Paint 
 
 83 
 
a picture that will please you, yoke the Lion and the Bear, 
 and you'll have a museum started, that will be most rich and 
 rare. Europe had some mighty armies, some great generals, 
 off and on, just about the very biggest that the sun ere shone 
 upon. Though the passion Allies cherished was to fill the 
 Teuton's boot, but they'll find the Kaiser ready, when their 
 little horn they toot. 
 
 Germany has had many triumphs, some ovations off and 
 on, just a little bit the biggest, when the Kaiser calls 
 Teutons. For the Kaiser made his speeches, and the war he 
 did not want, but the Belgain King got angry, so he took him 
 a flop. Germans demonstrated power, when the Teutons took 
 the spot. When Luettichs' mighty fortress fell, and her fall- 
 ing's not forgot — thus to Tirlemont, Namur, Maubeuge, Lillie, 
 and Brussel wrought. After resting there a season, Antwerp's 
 noisy fortress got. Oh the mighty roar of thousands, when 
 Antwerp the Kaiser smote. All the people fled to England, 
 some there were who left their coats, as the Germans took 
 the city, and its fallen structures built, oh the fury of the 
 frenzy, British Lion and Russian Bear, while the two are 
 yoked together, envy much the Kaiser there. Some there 
 were who leaped the trenches, some who tried to take their 
 dead, others tried to burn the city, more who tried to wake 
 the dead. Though the passion Allies cherished, was to fill 
 the Teutons' boot, but they'll find the Kaiser ready, when 
 their little horn they toot. 
 
 'Twas a record-breaking rouser, and their war wont be 
 forgot. Nine billion dollars wasted, ere this poem was be- 
 got. 'Twas the screaming of the eagle, as he never screamed 
 before; 'twas the crashing of the thunder, mingled with the 
 cannon's roar. While the purring of the Zeppelin, with the 
 Kaiser set the pace, and they've left the Allies haunted by a 
 slamming big disgrace. Dancing up and down the sideways, 
 o'er the British Isles they roam, dreaming of their great 
 misfortunes, soldiers lives, and Kaiser's throne, of earth's 
 great armoured struggles, 'twas the champion heavyweight. 
 'Tis the champion forever and a day, I calculate, for it 
 knocked out all its rivals, and undaunted, resolute, punched 
 Creation's solar plexus when the Kaiser's horn did toot. 
 
 84 
 
ox o 
 
 FORGET-ME-NOT 
 
 Forget me not, my worthy friend, 
 When this book you've read through. 
 
 I hope tliat what I've written here, 
 Will be of use to you. 
 
 Forget me not, my worthy friend. 
 These poems may bring you cheer. 
 
 And brighten up your future path. 
 Through each succeeding year. 
 
 Forget me not, my worthy friend, 
 
 First, find the key or note, 
 Then watch the punctuation mark. 
 
 And read what I have wrote. 
 
 Forget me not, my worthy friend, 
 
 For you I do adore. 
 I have traversed this globe of ours. 
 
 For forty years or more. 
 
 Forget me not, my worthy friend. 
 
 This volume I will close. 
 And should I live and have my health. 
 
 Another I'll propose. 
 
 85 
 
INDEX 
 
 Pages. 
 
 Congressional Library. Washington, D. C 21 
 
 The Silent City 27 
 
 The Country Home 33 
 
 The Titanic Disaster 73 
 
 Copyright 3 
 
 Dedication "* 
 
 Preface 5 
 
 The Author 6 
 
 Christmas ''^ 
 
 An American's Plea 9 
 
 Friendship 12 
 
 Our Brothers 14 
 
 Idaho 16 
 
 Clover Blossoms IS 
 
 Loves Memories 19 
 
 Dear Mother 20 
 
 The District 21 
 
 Night 24 
 
 Our Country 25 
 
 The Silent City 27 
 
 Communion 30 
 
 Presidents In Rhyme 31 
 
 Am I the Boy 32 
 
 War Of Eighteen Hundred Ninety Eight 34 
 
 Easter 39 
 
 In Virginia 41 
 
 Bells 42 
 
 The Doctor 43 
 
 Human Anatomy 44 
 
 Autumn's Breezes 46 
 
 A Trip to the Planets 46 
 
 Thanksgiving 48 
 
 Bridges 49 
 
 Faith 51 
 
 Our President 52 
 
 Helen 55 
 
 Fairy Queen 56 
 
The Sun '. 
 
 The Lovers Prayer ^ 
 
 Months In Rhyme 
 
 The Honey Bee 
 
 Clark's Gap r 
 
 Jahovah 
 
 Too Late ' 
 
 On Lake Erie 
 
 December Morn 
 
 The Human Body 
 
 „ .. 05 
 
 Creation ^ 
 
 ,_. . by 
 
 Missive 
 
 The Heart's Lament " 
 
 Life's Experience ^^ 
 
 Titanic Disaster *^ 
 
 Stuart Burton ^ 
 
 Laurels For The Blue And The Gray - '» 
 
 Poem Bible Rehearsal 
 
 When The Kaisers Horn Did Toot ^^ 
 
 Forget-Me-Not 
 
Vi 
 
 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 015 799 690 3 ^