.T55 F3 1920 't T^'TU'ir^'f'*^^^ ..Li Li ti ' ,i' i i li i >b 'J A L Book _T55T 7 G)p}#tN"_„ 111^ COF»' winter, on the farm. The long, and jovial evenings round the fire. Stored fruit and nuts, and games of youthful charm, Blow ye west winds! Till the flame upon our hearth is mounting higher! higher! There is stock to feed, and tend, And the far fields are a desert white, The low sun its cheerless ray doth send, And copse and fence, are buried out of sight. Soon March is mounting, with her sap, And trudging round of maple trees, Sugar dripping from the tap. And Spring's proclaimed! with budding leaves, and flowing eves! Her spirit moves upon the earth. The blue-bell is reborn, God's green carpet rolls out in birth, And the bare fields forlorn, the wild-flowers now adorn. 12 The Farm The arbutus trails in mud and slime, But blossoms with a dainty odor, It comes in early April time, When winds are soft, and woods are colder! Dainty pink of northern clime. May we have thy perfume. Though trailed like thee, in mud and slime, Our lives attain thy fragrant bloom! On jonder shaded mound, the whitened pillars Mark the temporal harbor of the dead, There neath the weeping willows and the alders, How good the pilgrimage, that to such a bourne hath led. The great forest ! With its shady nooks, and wind- ing aisles. Giant trees of oak, where the coon and chipmunk climb ! Here youth seeks out the butternut, and mounds them up in piles. The woodsman's ringing axe! and moss, and mint, and thyme! The brook babbles forth, meandering through the meadow, Well stocked with bass and sun-fish, and wary speckled trout, A worm for sunshine, and a scarlet fly for shadow, Such a pulling! playing! lashing — leaping! as we haul them out. 13 The Farm How welcome is the Sabbath day of needed rest, Tools hung up, stock bedded, and the motor car Bearing its happy load, to the meeting o'er the hills crest, And then the family dinner, with aunts and other guests, from near and far. The Old Homestead! Its weathered walls Still standing, mid familiar trees and yard. Pulling at the heart, the loved place calls Us back once more, to pay a last regard ! First in men's affections, is the farm ! Noblest of his universal work, and labor, The poet and the priest descant its varied charms. And God's word exalts the plow, and decries the saber! Food and clothing, fuel and shelter, come from the farm, It meets men's universal needs at ever}- hand ! Flee — O man — the baneful cities' harm, Back — Back! Where strength is springing from the land ! Behold the lilies of the field, how they grow, They toil not, neither do they spin. And the Lord Christ labored with the husbandmen, who sow, And bore a hand, to bring the ripened fruitage in. The horse-back ride, on thorough-bred, o'er springy turf, and away in a clatter! 14 The Farm Gripping the girth and feeling the spring, of the leaping steed ! O'er moor and meadow, and a dash through the woods at a breaking canter, Away for a run as free as the rein of your fleetest breed ! Plums and peaches, are the farmer's food. You eat them in the country, soft and mellow, The garden is a stack of all that's good. Tomatoes, red and ripe, and savory onions yellow. Come back to the farm-land ! To plain healthful living. To the outer so grand. Where the world it is singing! 15 The Farm SONG OF YOUTH Sing us a song to the strains of sweet music, Strike full the chords of the low toned guitar, Hushed is the evening, and Venus is rosy, Full of the moon and the bright polar star! Sing of the homeland, the times of our childhood, When cherries hung luscious and red on the tree. The drone of the beetle and scent of the wildwood At the wide window is wafted to me. Music's rare charm doth appease the old longing, A feeling of sadness for days past and gone, Exotic the night, and another good morning, Come join in our chorus of lyric and song! Voices as mellow as fruit of the orchard. The golden-toned tenor doth lead in the lay, Twang of the banjo, and strum of the dulcimer, With the stars we are sailing the white milky way! Calm and restful the night, its splendor beguiles us, Voluptuous the scene of the mid-summer's dream, Soprano, contralto, and basso profundo And spread over all the mellow moon beam. The scent of the roses that cluster below us, Delicious the odor, delightful the hour, i6 The Farm Flash of the fire-fly near us discloses Jewels resplendent, a fairy-queen's bower. Come sing us a song to the strains of sweet music! Strike full the chords of the low toned guitar, Hushed is the evening and Venus is rosy, Full of the moon and the clear polar star! 17 The Farin AFTER THE STORM Nature had a bath last night Thunder crashing o'er the mountain! Cot and garden clean and bright, Brook is leaping as a fountain ! The rain has washed the atmosphere, Dust and cinders all are gone, Daj- is going cool and clear. Diamonds dancing on the lawn ! The lightning flashing mid the peaks At midnight, was a rosy hue, The sunshine ever>' corner seeks, Our emerald world seems born anew! i8 The Farm SPAIN Tell us a tale of the land of Granada, The mariners bold, who sailed the blue main, The search for the fountain; Balboa! De Soto! Awake once again to your glories, Oh Spain! 'Twas a Prince of your realms that sent forth Columbus, To find for the world the land of the West, With the faith of a seer the brave Isabella, Did offer her jewels to aid in the quest! Tell us once more of the halls of Alhambra, The fall of the crescent, the rise of the cross! Give to the world another Murillo, Resplendent genius, up from the dross! History records how you ruled your dominions, An empire once glorious, heroic, and vast. Never again to raise your proud pinions? Shall you who were first, now always be last! Bring to your land the blessings of freedom, Strike from the people the shackle and chain ! Teach them the w^ay of school and the gospel, Awake once again to your glories. Oh Spain! 19 The Farm THE OLD COUPLE Come to me darling, Pillow my head, The years have been long. Let a good word be said. Thy face is as fair As white scented roses. Billows of hair A fond cheek discloses. Come queen of my heart, Just shut the world out! Love and kindness impart, With no one about! 20 The Farm SCHOOL DAYS Bushes of lilac, are masses of purple, In the grove is the sound of a bell. Two friends on the walk are eating an apple, There's a crowd to drink at the well. The blackbirds and jay-birds a chorus are singing, The maiden is fresh in her frock, The boy from the farm has a lunch he is brmgmg. It is half-past eight by the clock. Green are the trees, the village is tranquil, The gardener is whistling a tune, A scholar returning, is happy and thankful To go on a picnic at noon. Who would leave the out-of-doors To read and sweat inside? For yonder is a range of hills Where the fox and squirrel hide! Oh happy school-days! happy days! So joyous, full, and free. Today we're thirteen, once again. Blow breeze of youth — and waft them back to me ! We'd rather go a-fishing than be Governor, In the forest is a brook where leaps the trout, 21 The Farm With pole and line, and lunch and iron spider, Just come along and we will hook them out! In the school-room is the hush of many voices Bounding up and down the western world! Just outside the thrush and oriole rejoices, A ball of paper by a wicked boy is hurled. A girl is reading on the floor, with hair a-streaming, A maiden comely, as her name, Lenore, Her hair all golden, round-about, and gleaming, White and fluffy, was the dainty dress she wore. Through the window one can see the beech and maple, Whose nodding plumes beguile us as we study, A hugh bouquet festoons the flowering apple Where later comes the fruit so ripe and ruddy. Geography and history are full of pictures, Lions, polar-bears, and dark-hued faces, Sometime we'll tour those distant zones, And mingle with the men of many races. They're choosing for a ball-game on the square! They toss and take the field with cheer and shout! The batter swings, but only fans the air. The greatest joy in life's to "line her out!" Youthful pastimes! Marbles, quoits, and cricket. The nimble jackies catch and kick the ball ! Or chasing gophers, leap o'er yonder thicket. And answer to the wild-bird's lonesome call. 22 The Farm Now mysterious sounds and echoes of the evening, Every bush conceals an indian or brigand, A cow-bell tinkles music in the gloammg, The hooting owl begins his prowl, across the land. A mecca for girls and boys is Saturday, Books banished! Home chores, and needed rest, One long, long holiday of fun and play, ^ And tramp of many miles to crow and warblers nest! There comes a time when woods are growmg brown. Some elf, with red and gold, has striped the forests o'er, October brings the shag and walnut down. We dry, and sack, and shuck them for a jolly store. The sports of Winter! To race the Ice-king! And take a ride behind a farmer's sleigh. Jolly evening party, Christmas carols sing. And wind, o'er hill and vail, the white and jing- ling way. Still some memory lingers in the old familiar places. The class-room, and a favorite teacher, with a rose. General Exercises, and sea of up-turned faces, Speaking, singing, dress-parade, that always marks the close. The year has ended! joy reigns over all! Three months of summer and the long vacation, 23 ,The Farm A crowd with books, is surging down the hall, Now we know the ills of men do have cessation ! The wildrose blossoms by the road-side, The buzzing bee is gathering up the honey. From breezy hill-top one surveys the world-wide, Like life the view is all so bright and sunny! 24 The Farm THE CONFLICT We like this world, its struggle and its strife, We want to play our part in righting wrong, Step to the rolling drum and piercing fife, And stand and hear the victor's peon song! This life's not all, there's more beyond, 'Tis but a school, beginning, Up ! Up ! the struggle's on, The hopeful always winning! Not armed phalanx of glittering troops, But peaceful, serving envoy. Wherever wrong with right disputes. Our all for men, we will employ ! 25 The Farm IRELAND Loved isle o' Erin, Rare jewel of the sea, Tara's harp new stringing Sing melodies to me! Emerald gem of the ocean, Hill and vail so green, Killarney to the Shannon, And cabin home between, "Thy smile has cheered mankind With wit so rare! Thy sons are brave and kind, Thy maidens, bright and fair. Sing an Irish melody Tara's harp new stringin*! Rare jewel of the sea. Loved land o' Erin! 26 The Farm THE BABY Magnate and potentate, Downy, soft, and new! Come lift the coverlet And kiss, and take a view. Fresh from creation, The music of the spheres Is in thy cry. Such dainty hair and ears! Thy dimpled smile And star-born jeweled eyes. Chubby arms and cheeks, All art defies! As spring-time is Without the bird's song, So home would be without the baby, — ^All the day-long! 27 The Farm THE SOUTHERN CROSS Night's jeweled diadem, There is no dross In thee, imperial gem, O Southern Cross! Planted there on high By the Creator's hand, Where doth arch the sky, And beneath the silent, unknown, land. Guiding mariner and traveler O'er a hemisphere, Studded beaming star, Till time grows old and seer. Holiest of emblem, There is no dross In thee, imperial gem, O Southern Cross! 28 The Farm INDIA Domain of scarlet, gold, and princely treasure, Looming from the dim and hoary past. Creation fills thy lap with generous measure, Rivers, mounts, and empire grand and vast! Delhi! famed city of ancient splendor, Aladdin's dreamed magnificence come true, Thy tale and history awake men's wonder To reach thy fastness, and behold the view. There flows the Ganges, — Madras ! Calcutta ! Merchants' marts of silks, and spice, and gem, Long told and fabled richness of the Orient, Where kings festoon their robes with jeweled hem. There is another tale of degradation. Teeming millions sunk in direst need. To toil each day for wage, starvation. Bound by royal nabobs' iron greed. What avails those princely treasures vast? The towers of Delhi! and the satrap's purple! The Indian is sunk in everlasting cast, The hopeless night that shrouds the common people. 29 The Farm Far to the north the lordly Himalayas rise, Mightiest monuments that God has reared, There the lowly earth doth touch the skies, And crowning summit is both sought and feared. In India's far and continental clime. Land of mount, and richly minted mine, Work the heroes of the earth, On mission's, battle line! 30 The Farm THE AMAZON Vast and mighty body of water, Flowing — flowing — flowing, Thy fount is on the Andes' summit. At thy mouth the sea-breeze, blowing, blowing. Great ships stem thy current as the ocean, Circling the torrid zone. The alligator plaj^s in his lone commotion. Immense forests grow upon thy banks, dense and unknown. Foremost stream of all the world ! Thy mouth is like unto a sea, The beauty of many lakes is on thy face, with wavelets curled, Strange birds and beasts roam near, untamed and free. Flowing — flowing, — ever flowing. Waters, from the ice-tipped peaks of Andes, At thy mouth the sea-breeze, blowing — blowing, Winds and odors from the southern seas. 31 The Farm THE LANDSCAPE From this view the grass is like a carpet, Acres of green, in colors rich as oil, At the rear a hedge-row and a thicket, Summer's verdure borne upon the soil. On the right a dainty touch of yellow. Some plant that's flowering in the stalk, On the other hand, a low-ground, rank in purple, And up the way a green, inviting walk. Such glowing tints and shades are in the pic- ture! The green is rendered richer by a note of red. The simple, gentle art of nature. And in the fore a royal garden bed. Two shrubs and an opening, form a vista, To shield the sea blue surface of a lake; One lone sail is whitening — distant. Azure sky and clouds a canopy doth make. Landscape of farm and forest ! And near ex- panse of lawn. So green, so fresh, in colors rich as oil, Purple — yellow, azure blue, all drawn In decorative art upon the soil. 32 The Farm NIAGARA Turbulent, tortuous, tumbling, — torn! Fresh from the lakes-basin deep, Down to the canyon the ages have worn, It comes — ! and takes the wild leap! Over the precipice, green, black, and yellow. Swirling! and swashing! where death waits below. Foaming and fuming, out of the shallow. Right on the brink, — and over they go! Picturesque nature parades her great glory, That curtain of water formed as a horse-shoe, Thrilling, tumultuous! dashing score story! The mists as a veil, do rise on the view. Here God speaks in wonderful art, Deft chisel divine hath fashioned it all, The tornado roar doth blanch the stout heart, And the wild — wild surges come over the fall! It is a sublime spectacle viewed from the lower shore, That falling ridge of waving water mass; A Spirit of the Mist doth hover o'er The rainbow colors in a sea of glass. 33 The Farm RAPHAEL Midway 'tween heaven and earth It seems suspended, The mother and the child In colors blended. The warm flesh tints ; a feeling of the spiritual Doth animate the painter's art, and brush, The babe-child struggles with the dawning intellectual, And o'er the earth there rests a hush. Superman ! Thy rich robed colors Have caught seraphic vision, And painted for the world With rapt precision. As thy Madonna's face Is noble, and fair to tell, So is thy divine art and grace O peerless Master, — Raphael ! 34 The Farm MACKINAW It is an island rising like a pillar, From out the water of her native Lake, Guarding sentinel o'er blue Huron and Superior, A picture of a thousand, she doth make. Superb jewel of nature, forest crowned! Green as the far famed Emerald Isle, In Indian lore thy features are renowned, Rocks cast up and shaped in architectural pile. Shores washed by waters, clear, pellucid. Flowing, ever ebbing, through the Strait. Meeting spot for lakes so blue and placid, The Red Man's ancient temple at the tryst- ing gate! 35 The Farm THE LIGHTHOUSE Eddystone Light, The sailor's warning, The gale of the night, The fog of the morning. Live to the full my boy and girl, A worthy part in life's bright song. Beware of the maelstrom's fateful whirl. You'll find more joy in right than wrong! You may sow your oats my boy, Sow them wild and deep. But remember no one wants you When your crop you come to reap ! Eddystone Light, The sailor's guide. Throwing its rays far and white. O'er Atlantic's rolling tide! 36 The Farm CUBA Queen of the Antilles! Our near sister, Gem of the island group, now free, In thy dark hour we sent our gallant soldier In a righteous cause to die for thee. The American loves liberty more than life, The right to freedom and happiness un- shackled. Someway from out the din and social strife May there rise a world unmanackled. It is an isle of soft winds and fruits and flow- ers, When other lands are frigid, here is summer, Plumed tropic birds and roses, glad the golden hours. Orange, lime, pine-apple, for all comer. Queen of the Antilles ! The scented sea-breeze Is wafted o'er thy island constellation; Guard well the Indes, Guidon of liberty o'er the Caribbean ! 37 The Farm THE MASTER-PIECE The brown has mellowed with the gold, the years doth render A richer color to the shades, where the painter wrought. He has expressed his own soul's grace and splendor In the simple lesson taught. It is a picture of a girl, standing in the street, With her salvation army on the warring line; There where the murky tides of life do meet. The clashing of the common and divine ! She has a smile of sweetness and of beauty Beyond all words, or art, She finds a happiness, each day, in duty, Angel she is to dark and wayward heart. O Painter ! Long may your master-piece hang upon these walls. Its colors mellowing into gold. It is the street, and not fame's marble halls. Is the simple lesson told ! 38 The Farm WORDSWORTH You live because you wrote of worthy things, All are better as thy limpid lines they read, Enduring art, though it chisels, paints or sings, Must minister to man's everlasting need. Here the sky is arching, no city bounds you, The breeze plays havoc through the wood! The country-side is spread in unrestricted view. The squirrel known, the fox-glove understood! No words can tell thy worth, O Wordsworth ! Let us open thee again, Leaving the town and frivolous things of earth. And tour a day with thee, o'er moor, and field, and fen. The poet's ecstasy Here has delight, Opals of dawn, turquoise of the working day. And diamond-dust of night. Rapids leaping! waters rushing! Chant the birth of Wordsworth. The mandrake and the mint, thy feet are crushing, Come where the dew drips from the gentian to the earth! 39 The Farm SCULPTURE Cold, chaste, and chiseled art of Greece, The stone inanimate, waiting for the breath divine. The rounded arm, and noble faultless face, Here genius worked and wrought perfection to a line ! A block of rough hewn marble, dull and white. The sculptor saw an angel there! At dawn of talent's toiling night Was born a form beyond compare. The art of Greece is perfect art. Call back Phidias to his granite colonnade, His master-craft lacks naught but soul and heart, Time sullies not, nor doth perfection fade ! Chiseling, forming, fashioning, — chiseling, Ever chipping here and there, the granite block. Has earth no new born Praxiteles To bespeak muses from the Tuscan rock ! Pure art is a hand-maid to religion. Pass and pause, where Apollo mounts above the sculptor's wall, Great art is ennobling, spiritual, God-given, Cupid, Moses, and Minerva, stand w^ithin the marble hall! 40 The Farm THE SILVER LINING Milton was blind, And Beethoven deaf, Thus these two geniuses Were bereft. I can hear And I can see! And fate is very Good to me! Today I'll look upon the flowers And listen to the birds. And hear the household music Of its spoken words. And think of all I have In generous lot ! Forgetting and ignoring What I have not! 41 The Farm ARCH OF TRIUMPH We choose life's sweets Let those who will grow sour, Many loves and hates Are everybody's dower. Earth's uncrowned queens and kings Are they, Who sing above a thousand things, Rejoicing on the way! Like Paul the victor In race well run, Each day to be a factor In some good done ! 42 The Farm THE DIVINE Guiding flashes, 'mid the darkness, come to all, And our way is fairly lit, Upward pointing they doth ever call, And mold and make this common mortal fit! We are not forsaken in our sunken sordidness. The eternal and divine doth ever lead! The Father of the sparrow knows our weakness, There is a heaven for all who will their lesson heed. 43 The Farm CONTENTMENT Happiness is contentment The supreme gift of enjoyment, Of simple things about you, And the day's employment. Whatever is must be, The passing years have taught that God could Make the withered lilies bloom again, And from the evil bring forth good ! Contentment with things near at hand, There is happiness between four walls, Heart light and conscience clear. The rose and radish in our back-yard garden calls ! 44 The Farm THE MASTER-KEY The master-key unlocks the world for you. The golden token, that swings full-wide the door. Seven accomplishments must wait upon you. Tact! The gentle, graceful art of being usable to others. Power! Young and overflowing. The faith that moves mountains ! From the source of power ! Healthy, persuasive, heroic! Thrift — That sees the little day-by-day laid by, expand into the capital of great enterprise. Character ! The weak becoming strong ! The lone oak of the forest. And ever Hope. The rainbow assurance of an- other and a better day. Religion, that guides us through the murky tides of life, and finds, at last, safe harbor. Perseverance! That tires a hundred times, and tries again, with added joy achieved. Seven fold and certain crown when nobly won! 45 The Farm CHRISTMAS HYMN Peace on earth, O Prince of Peace Let all strife and discord cease. May thy kingdom have increase, And chained spirits find release. Good will to men, the world round! Ring the bells with pealing sound ! Exalt the Christ the angels found And let his praises long resound! Here mid winter's splendors hoary, Tell again the Christ-child story ! He who trod the path so gory, Leading up to heaven's glor>% Bells, today, with joy are ringing! Children's voices carols singing. Men to Calvar^f's cross are clinging, Love and service, to him bringing. Ring out the bells — the chiming bells! Ring out the bells, whose message tells Of Him who wrong and misery knells, For Christ, with men, now dwells! 46 The Farm HANDEL'S LARGO Wondrous God, we adore thee, For the way that thou hast led ; Thy heavenly home we cannot see. The palace, of the dead. There are pleasures there, forevermore, The music rolling from the key Is like the ocean on the shore. The march of triumph, leading up to thee! What supernal sounds are these? The Largo lifts the soul ! 'Tis Handel moving o'er the keys To music's mighty roll. Noblest of melodies is the Largo, Organs of Paradise with stops full drawn! With the stately beauty of Leonardo It paints the coming glories of eternal dawn! Wondrous Christ, we adore thee, For thou dost make the erring whole, The grandeur of eternity Is in the Largo's roll. The March Triumphant of the soul! 47 The Farm AT THE MERCY SEAT Just as the publican Before Thy throne I bow, Broken and undone. Hear, Oh hear, me now. Show thy mercy, Lord, For this wounded life, Tom and battle-scarred In the world's dark strife ! Pride and glon% all are gone, Just as a child I come, — Now I lay me down — , And thou Lord, take me home. 48 The Farm CHRISTUS Let not your heart be troubled, Believe in Me; For I have many mansions Prepared for thee. I just have gone before To make ready our home, And waiting at the portal door I'll tarry, till you come! Let not your heart be troubled, There are pleasures, forevermore! And you shall find abundant entrance For I am the open door ! 49 The Farm AMERICA True to form, she goes! Young giant, of the West, Equal to her foes, And on a knightly quest! Earth's mightiest mission Asks not of her, in vain, Proud in her position. Cheered bj' men's acclaim. America ! The ages doth behold You, as you give your treasure. Yourself, your men, your gold In open-handed measure! 'Tis yours to lead in noble deed. And ever lead you must! You hear the whole world's calling need, And stand for what is just! 50 The Farm FRANCES WILLARD Woman of the white ribbon And noble face. She led Society out to moral freedom, And moved the world a pace ahead! Sweet little woman, — Napoleonic! Doughtier than the warrior's might, Queen of hearts, of all that's human. Peeress of purity, and the right! 51 The Farm DAVID'S HYMN Oh ! the joy of wrong forgiven, Burden lifted from the heart! When in reconciliation God, his favor, doth impart! To our guilty state of darkness Hope doth shed a shining ray, On our Stygian night of blackness Bursts the sunrise into day! Happy child, with conscience clear. Error all confest, Gone the load, of doubt and fear, Born abiding rest. Conscious joy of wrong forgiven! Burden taken from the heart, When in reconciliation God, forgiveness, doth impart! 52 The Farm THE CATHEDRAL Architecture is a bridge of music, a lyric ladder Where the artist treads the skies, An ascending symphony, of a mighty orchestra, Hark! How yon steeple tones do ring and rise! There is a grandeur in the structure, the nave and noble dome, Lifting towards the clouds, its towers and spires, It stands a western echo, of the pomp of Rheims and Rome, Pointing ever upwards, our aspirations and desires! Viewed from a distance, the lines are quite colossal, The clorister and the minister, the halls in winged extension. Time's enduring monument, to the loved apostle, Here genius dreamed and wrought, in vast dimen- sion! Cathedral bells are clanging! Tolling from the tower ! Ringing o'er the city and the country-side, their silver tone. Cathedral bells are striking! The early matin hour, Echo of the grandeur, of Strassburg, York, Co- logne ! 53 j \The Farm Stones of many lands are laid up, block on block, Marble of Georgia, granite of New Hampshire, and Ohio's lime Is joined unto the gorgeous-hued Italian rock. To rouse in men a longing for the spiritual and sublime ! The Cathedral declares God's grace and glory! The chancel, and the brilliant window, his ministry foretells. The choir peals out Christ's Christmas story, To the sounding! and the clanging! and the ring- ing! of the bells. Five miles away the towers rise, above the bur- nished dome, The magnitude, the faultless lines, the vaulted roof, the walls of timed-toned hue, Standing in the western world, as ancient Peter's stands in Rome, Men travel far, abide, depart, and come again, to look upon thy amplitude anew! 54 The Farm THE STARS Noblest of the sciences, the geometric sky, Lift the beholding telescope and watch the Pleiades sail by ! The Pole Star, sentinel of the night, is ever in the north, And rosy Venus, just at evening, from her rest comes forth! Come and see the lordly Jupiter lead his family train. And little silver Mercury, as the moon doth wax and wane. There the great dipper performs his nightly loop, And the Milky Way is just a dusty group. Astronomy inspires our minds to thoughts of vast dimension. We think less of little man's invention, And more of the Infinite God, Who this starry way, a trillion years hath trod ! Perseus and Pegasus are in a race, To outshine the sun! And the moon looks on with solemn face, And declares who won! 55 The Farm Grandest and mightiest constellation, is Orion! Carrying his jeweled dagger at his belt, Treading lightly, lest the Scorpion, Strike him from the purple veldt. The astronomer is ever a believer, For he beholds Gods turning wheels in motion, There where they wind the clock of day, And allot the planets, etch its proper place and portion. Sweep ! Oh sweep onward ! toys of the sky. Thy trillion distances we'll tour them o'er some day, Once a year the fateful Comet draws nigh, And Ursa Major suspends herself in jeweled array. The crescent moon is a blade of silver, nesting in a cloud, The west with rainbow tints, is still aglow. The falling night, its shades, will soon enshroud. Some shooting wanderer, its scintillating train of sparks doth throw! Now Saturn, with his gorgeous ring. Mars is red for war! Castor green, bright Vega blue, And flashing Regel, a billion billion miles doth bring His rays quite clearly to our view! 56 The Farm BROWNING'S WORKER One who always marched breast forward, Never doubting skies would clear, Shoulders square and looking upward, Greets the future with a cheer! In the bustle of man's work-day, Bench, and brush, and whirling gear. Stalwart — pressing up the pathway, "Fight on — fare ever! — till God's breaking dawn is here!" 57 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS iiilllllllllllillllil 018 360 351 6«