Class PS353tJ Book,.lE: 7XP- L COVmXGYVt DEPOSm T^oems of Sunny Qolorado By Susie Kerin Wj ji>oJ , ,.■>> v'^T^f' 'A ^- ^- -- \q, Copyright, 1922 By Susie Kerin The Welch-Haffner Printing Co. DENVER DEC 20 72 S)C1A6 92 5.58 GATEWAY OF THE LIGHT: THY BEAMING, LIKE SUNRAYS ON THE WESTERN SLOPE- PROMISING A BRIGHT AND FAIR TOMORROW, OUR LIFE, OUR SWEETNESS, AND OUR HOPE, THIS LITTLE BOOK IS DEDICATED SUSIE KERIN T'he Garden Near the mountains is a lovely garden, Denver beauteous, haven of the West; Through her welcome arch the tired tourist Finds an oasis of peace and rest. In this garden there is always sunshine. Happiness, good will, and blessings rare ; Rising in a cloud of benediction To descend in fragrance through the air. May all those who wander through this garden Breathe this air from yonder snow capped crest. And enjoy each happy, restful hour As the sun sinks in the golden west. The ^J)(tou/it of The Holy Qross O, Mount of contemplation ! What a lesson you impart ! In g-randeur and sublimity How like the human heart, With its sunshine, storms and tempests, As the seasons come and go, You cover hope and destiny Beneath a cross of snow. We know not what deep blessings Lie hid within thy heart. For future generations As they come and then depart. But thy symbol and its mercy. Like the sunshine and the dew, Revives and strengthens courage, And makes bright the mountain view\ The snow that nestles in thy arms May melt and gain renown. In sparkling drops of mercy, The cross become a crown. Bringing glory to persistence. That will ever keep us near, The sign wherein we conquer. And the love that casts out fear. Our visions oft are hazy In life's foothills as we grope. The atmosphere grows clearer As we near the western slope. May each snowfiake in thy symbol Turn to glistening light, around The emblem of faith, hope and love, When we are homeward bound. T^he Kindergarten Teacher A wise robin teacher, Her experiences unfurled Before a class of redbreasts About to face the world, Said: "I've flown north and south; I have flown high and low, But the city they call Denver Is the best place I know." "With its parks, lawns and boulevards None others can compare, When you need a healing tonic Of life-giving air. Its people and its climate Are as good as good can be. And that counts for more than half In selecting nest and tree." "So, my children, wdien you travel And feel weary and alone, And the clouds obscure the vision Of the brightness you have known, Fly back in loving gladness. Sing your sweetest redbreast trills. When you hover o'er the citv In the shadow of the hills." The 'Xpmance of Tike s T*eal^ There was once a pretty legend Of a knight, whose whole desire Was to find the light of happiness, In golden rays of fire. On the mountains of his vision He had hopes, so runs the tale, Where he found this light celestial He would find the "Holy Grail." Twas in the golden summer Of eighteen hundred eight, A United States lieutenant Named Pike, rode through the gate Of pre-historic grandeur. He was dazed. For clothed in white, Stood a mountain on whose summit Gleamed a fascinating light. He bowed in admiration Where the mariposa nods, At the sight that met his vision, From the "Garden of the Gods." He had found the land of promise By the light that cannot fail. His heart was filled with rapture — He had found the "Holy Grail." And o'er the gay lieutenant There came a solemn change, He loved this stately daughter Of the continental range. And in faith he saw the future, And heard the world acclaim The bride who ever after Was to bear his honored name. By faith he reached the gateway Of perfection true and tried; By faith he saw the glory That would crown the Great Divide. For the light that led him kindly Amid encircling gloom, Was as bright as Colorado With the columbines in bloom. With the faith that overcometh. He traveled toward the light. With a loving heart courageous Onward ever where the night Had passed, and where the dawning Of happiness is born. In a sunrise on the mountain. When its beauty brings the morn. zA Tribute Oh! Denver, City Beautiful, What architect of might Wrought those wonders and achievements, To adorn thy fame so bright ? Who accompHshed with rare genius All his heart and mind could do, Who was this wondrous dreamer Who made all his dreams come true? He worked for Denver's welfare With a zeal that stands supreme ; His monuments of beauty Will in future annals gleam. In public estimation He will hold a place apart ; His name will be remembered On chaplets in each heart. Oh ! breathe that name with reverence ; Its luster pure as gold Should be the inspiration. Hearts of gratitude should hold. As the city called The Beautiful, Grows larger year by year, Brighter grows the hallowed memory or Robert W. Speer. Sstes T^a?^/^ Estes Park is nature's dreamland If you go there in the spring, When the glaciers just awaken And the happy robins sing. In the summer time it's heaven, When the days are bright and long. And the meadow larks are laughing. Filling all the park with song. The mountains towering upward, The landscape pictures grand; There's a sense of holy peacefulness Around this broad expand. And Long's Peak looking downward Like a watchman on a tower. Who guards a priceless treasure. That has beauty, fame, and power. When the tourist season closes. And the guests and birds have fled; When along the mountain pathway Leaves are falling, gold and red — The scene's so incomparable. Endowed with all that charms ; A spell entwines around you. Like the clasp of mother arms. — 1 HS fll^^^^l 1 ^^H|H^^^^!^^^ 1 1 Hf^^i^iv^^/^ ^^mv^i^^^^^^^^^H 1 W^ cW^ V 1 ^^R '"^'•a'il^ ^^^^^^ 1^1 ! 1 ^^^^^^^^BT^^H 1 j T^he T*ioneers of Qolo?'ado What visions led the pioneers. With hearts of courage strong, To leave their home and kindred And migrate with the throng. Who went in quest of fortune On the plains still fast asleep, And the mountains mute and silent. Guarding well their treasures deep? They came, they saw, they conquered- Through the vista of the years Let us look with emulation, On the sturdy pioneers Coming to this land to conquer, By their labors to attest How faith, fortitude and courage, Transformed the middle west. They are going down the valley. They are going one by one ; Soon they'll pass beyond the portals And will hear the words "well done." But they leave a lovely heritage — Their works well done to crown All who follow in their footsteps, Till life's sun goes down. d" The