LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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THE OLD LOG CABIN. 
 
 By LUCIAN B. WATKINS. 
 
W53 
 
 Copyright, 1910, By Lucian B, Watfcins, 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 Price i5 cents. 
 
 The Printery, Fort D. A. Rustell. Wyoming. 
 
 (r r.i /\'}aA a i r. 
 
Maternal Eden! Cradle of the night 
 Before the hailed Aurora of the dawn 
 
 Of present day. Thy roof revealed the light 
 Of beck'ning stars, where many souls were 
 drawn 
 
 In inspirations of a worthy aim 
 
 That marked the nucleus of a noble name. 
 
The poor and lowly trusted to thy care 
 
 Found rugged strength and faith-inspired heart; 
 
 Thou gav'st the whisper with thy simple fare 
 That would not let the light of hope depart. 
 
 The fragrance of their forest-scented dream 
 
 Spoke ever of a human height supreme. 
 
Thy gift is in the background of the past 
 Of many hves that tower in the sky ^ 
 
 The fHcker of thy candle Hght is cast 
 In radiance manifold of blessings high. 
 
 Yea, many human pinnacles of earth 
 
 Walked from the portal of thy humble birth. 
 
Though now eclipsed by present palace hall, 
 Where all the suns of civ lization lay 
 
 The splendors of their beauties over all, 
 Thou art the father of the glowing day. 
 
 The White House of the blessed Lincoln goal 
 
 Was but the evolution of thy soul. 
 
 Wi 60 ^ 
 

 
 
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