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HAWKINS PORTLAND’S ROSE-CARNIVAL SOUVENIR An Address Descriptive cf Oregon’s Resources end Marvelous Granduer PATENT APPLIED FOR PjHl ISf't AS; HULL PRINTING COMPANY MEDFORD, OREGON I * Where Lie The Oregons Where lie the Oregons are lakes and plains, ^ And sliding rivers, and deep murm|mg woods, With lure of endless aisles where mayEeTieard The lyrico-dramatic play of capticious winds, The inter-weaving of melodic brands; And the weird, soft piping of the ancient pines Beneath whose bending boughs one time was heard The chant of savage choirs in sable dress: The mournful music of the wood-folk gone, Thro length of suns, down thro the ebon gates That swing on hidden hinges into paths Star fringed and lifted into the glory hills! © © © Where lie the Oregons the purple mountains Are pearly-footed in the morning light, — What summer noons, what orange moons by night! What dim rare distances of lifting scene, Of huge proportioned imperial forest kingdoms; Of wooning shades and incomparable color-views! What other folk shall boa£t such wondrous scene Of sea and land and ardent bending sky? What muse shall sing for us these raptureing views Of blooming forests and entrancing vales? Here comes a youth whose bearing verbs of kings Such as did once in great 2 WHERE LIE THE OREGONS Or, in Argentium the Beautiful; Or, yet again, in the lovelier Birket-el-Korn, Queen city of ancient pride in Faycum land, — For flocks and herds renowned, and golden palms. Yea! Here now comes a youth whose brow is wreathed With blossoms fragrant born by classic streams. Lo! Robed is he with cloth from Phirgia’s looms: The script of Fore-States pictured in the warp; The rose-bloom and the lilly on his cheek, And on his brow a wreath of asphodel. So is he prescienced of Parnassus’ wing, He seems the climax to a poet’s dream; So is his language jeweled of word-flowers, A lyric blooms upon each syllable. His form were symmetry — the Paphian Boy Was never more persuaved of of lip and eye. Love’s dancing children blithely follow him Down the warm length of aisles of saphrined gold, On down through deeps of blooming borderland; By sylvan ways and paths, by pool and dell; To finally lift into night’s vibrant hills Where gleaming naiffls bathe in emerald waters, Or coy the night-flower’s marvelous tenderTIoomings, Where flames the spirit lilly under the young moon. Thus went he down down into Willamette’s vales: And touching there his oaten straw he played, WHERE LIE THE OREGONS 3 Harmoniously sweet, an artist’s picture song; Descriptive in pearl-islanded amethto seas^-^ e \ And colored mi^ts high bannered on soft shores, ’ And olden woods, deep, dense of rougous trees: Articulate with some strange note of power; Confused, yet many-toned with import wild; Through which is heard the fore-voice of the earth, And presences which lived when earth was young. The distant calling of lean moaning winds Thro branches that are bent with weight of years. The lucid melody and capricious slips Of some lone piper on his greenish rock. The voice of leaping maenads in tangled wood, And the silvery call of Limnanthis, heard afar. The sound of wood-god’s tread upon the mold Where single sun-shafts cut thro parted boughs. The color-music of dilicious fragrances; The perfume sweet of night’s wet violets, As delicious as the airs of Parthenope, As delicate as the immagmed scent of Sahara’s bloom! Still further the theme was his: Where lie the Oregons Multnomah’s fiefs Once yielded tribute to tfcg that ^tern-browed king Who rode with iron rein his steed of state, Thus ordered on portentious tribal hates JnvidJous, gathering to his own undoing When arose revolt recruiting on dismay 4 WHERE LIE THE OR EGO NS Of Hood’s red thunder and the fever camps: When fell the Bridge of the Gods — when shook the With tremors rude, chaotic, fearful, dire, Till slept Wallula cold by Wauna’s flood. Here lie the virgin deeps of western woods: The Clajsop by the ever restless sea, The Clackmas for streams and herds renowned, a-**” The Y amhill rich in all its ancient molds, The Tillamook of countless savage years, And, other se&ions flung in boundary chain; Encompassing afar unconquered leagues Of mountain rampart and of fertile plain, Thro which flow life’s rich summer memories: Primordial atmospheres and wild-wood scents, That with a distinctive subtle fevor move Thro mysterious distances of copse and fern, And clinging vine and varient wild carresses; When steals /Eolus down thro the spirit-wold, PaSt bell-toned nooks of fairy-haunted dells, To fling its odor- wreaths on berg and town! earth] Also is heard: The plaintive music of some lilting bird, The long deep sighing of the worship-trees, The echo-music of some perished race, The straying trill-lill of some satyr’s reed; Or, the mirthful laughter of some wanton brook Which wanders on thro lands midst length of days, WHERE LIE THE OREGONS 5 Thro night and noon with fleecy cloud, and sun; To disappear beneath some splendor arch Of rock, or spreading tree of fragrant bloom, Flowered white and starry in a clustered pride. The song-tears of the sweet-voiced night-en-gale Flow thro the evening’s mellow hush and haze. The gem-like bells of minature bloom is seen Where alternates the poppie’s crimson foam. Soft, delicately white and golden floweretts flood The leaning landscape down to throbbing seas. The golden-rod sways with the hum-bird’s weight, The swamp-rose and the prim-rose give their cheer. Where peppermints send forth their wondrous breath, The dog-flower shines above the winter fern. Exquisitely pastoral are these lake-land leagues, Bloom-margined and bloom-centered in the sun. Delicate is the exquisite flora of this clime: The uttered perfume of the wood and plain. Sweet western land of wonderful promise this, Where rivers woon to sleep Cascadean hills, When broods, Algerian-like, Wallowa’s nights O’er rugged steeps and many a valley’s rim Which lift and melt into Lunars orange light. [wing,] Where the wild fowl shakes the dew from morning Takes westward course o’er Umatilla’s fields, — Aglint with golden suns on seas of grain — Her guiding view Mt. Hood and the Yakimas; With tireless pinion fans Tacoma’s brow: 6 WHERE LIE THE OREGONS Thro fragrant misls of falling rainbow tints On urgent flying ever, seeking goal Where spread the noble pastures of the sound. Or yet again it speeds on phosphorent wing Southwest to where the crater’s haunted floods Droon round the rocksjwhen morning comes with sun; When Liao Rock seems but ferment and fire: When Pahtom Ship sets sail for unknown seas. There, where red Lias sport in Craters deeps, Where the Caldron Witch performs her wizard art When night is under cloud in Klamath’s woods, There, wild DesChutes, impelled from raucous steeps, Leaps thunderous from the cave of Thielsen’s god And pounds its course from Klamath down thro Crook, Past Snowy Butte and Multon Mountain pass: Thro many a plain where graze unbitted steeds, (Limbed racers of the whirlwind and the storm) Past Sherman and past W asco’s allurative farms To rude debauch its flood on Columbia’s foam. Its thunder booming mkLt the echo-peaks Which one time answered back the Indian’s song: The jocund half-verse sung at pagan feasts, Or the mournful drooning of a funeral dirge When wept wild mothers for their war slam son; When flame-red war-forms leaped forth like fire-steed Thro bannered atmospheres on templed hills. WHERE LIE THE OREGONS 7 Earth’s wild sweet breath comes up from Harney’s fields, And from Malheur where slide unspindled streams And rivers worthily waiting on such time As shall mature an empire promise here; From Grant where hover mists o’er fossil keeps; Where record-earth discovers unto men (The Sage and the Great) events in terror’s shroud Upbearing huge bone-forms in garb of clay; Representative of a million process years Which darken back beyond the speech of men: The vision and the fact of chemistries Knit with storm-conflicts thro red primal days On plains by torrid seas^ by steaming shores. Well heeled is mamTewirrd these unploughed leagues Of virgin empire, having catholicty here To zeSt the will, and vigor up the brain, Of nation builders who keep tryst with truth, Where now by Portland and by Salem sounds The beating hoofs of progress, and, the chime Of knowledge bells in accademic halls; Where Steady shines the light o{ art and law, And literature, and, all may ^eem best Right noble vesture for high venturiug men. Except the wild tale of the frontier days, And the crowding on of tribes toward heated noons Of haughty Strife with dirge of battle death, — When savage cities pass to dusk and night; c v-uA 8 WHERE LIE THE OREGONS plP* £ S' There is not here a legendary past To tint one’s motif or give art-sense room Upon what canvas wails the artist king. But who would care for higher theme and scen e. \ Where wind twelve rivers, in perenial flood, s Past odered meads and fields of whispering grain; ^ Past lands where graze contented herds, on hoof ^ Down toward cool waters where the cresses bloom! ~ The rugged grander of our cloud-topped hills, Our lakes and rivers, and, our opaline seas Rude breaking on our empire’s iron coast; All beckon with appealing hand to men Whose genius ought to master what stands forth. A morning’s climb on Cascade’s slopes and margins Is like a page from out some master’s music: Or like a vision taking shape and form Above the circles of an adept’s wand: More beautiful than Korrizan’s mirage Zoned high above the hills by Leman’s sea, ^ Where fancy blossoms by the side of dream, ,, Where star-flowers burst their buds on vetvely swards; Where wind-flowers free their odors — when sets the ^ Behind some mountain burnished red and gold, [sun] n it For the breezes here blow softly thro green boughs, And stir the sleep-begetting minstrel pines. Here, hidden plenteus in the graded oak, r? Co /r WHERE LIE THE OREGONS 11 Rude uttered back with pagan quip and scene. 1 In (o rest field n ot far from soft Wahana ThelarkT are wont to chorus Easter da ysT^ f As if 1o reprove theThush of wmter^woods: Ls Anon is beard an hundred air-swi ^g n otes / [way] When the wild-geese — migrant — wend their arrowy O’er pristine peaks, by lines of sea-washed sand; Above the slopes where Cullaby Lake is gemed: And keep their course toward Alaskan swamps Whence flow the streams with golden silts to floods That wash bright sands on Nome’s adventurous shores - VL A homeward ride through sunset by the Coos Is like a journey throught some story-land. Here daffodils and daisies flutter where The wind-voice steals up from the timbrous waves. The twilight grieving of the tree-couched birds, Breeze-swung where flows a never failing brook, Comes to us out of story-enchanted woods; The deathless sky bends down to deathless earth. No immelodius being here abides To dull the lengthening days of summer cheer. Where the heart of the buttercup beats golden-pure, The voice of the willow dells is heard and loved. The dreamy fawn and purple of woodland ways Surrounds as we pass through sylven shades. What endless aisles — what altitudes are here! What fluent opulency of limbrient ocean: Our summits glow against cerulean arches! LIBRARY UNIVERSITY Or liriwn?* 12 WHERE LIE THE OREGON 5 Heaven’s filmy blue is flushed with idyllic joy. The olive dips lie leaning on the landscape. Deep is the imperishable charm of field and fell: Here lies a field in mauve (like Sicily’s views), A worthy subject for our Douglas Crane; Here flows a stream past opalescent rocks, Bid Parrot’s brush give spirit to this view! A mist hangs sun-rayed o’er wild Tillamook: Far amethyst oceans break on ruby shores. A rainbow widely spans the hoary drifts Of mountain ranges ringed with color-wreaths. Rogue’s apple-bloom and Roseburg’s peach and Commingle odors where the mountains meet, [plum] The golden warp of a land’s strength lieth here: The muscle-fibre, too, of a masterful race. No Moeris here lies sad with dreary shores, O’er which the vultures float on carrion quest. The hills of Cos were not more softly splendrous. Nor the Carion shores more lovely in their setting Of varient gem-hues, — scintilent mellow — Than hill and shore by Salem and by sea-rim. Yon stands Eugene: university cultured city Which waters well her garden academic/ And p tends with care the bud and ethic bloom Best circumstanced upon her lawns to thrive. More to the south Grants Pass, with merchant pride WHERE LIE THE OREGONS n Proclaims herself Queen City of Josephine; And girds her loins with leathern belt on which Is pictured forth her traffic interests. Where the Siskiyous lie calm in the evening light The Vale of Tempe yon by Ashland lies. This place of mountain scenery hath renown: The Sakkara pyramid lifts its pink cone where The pale mists veil the brow of Pilate Rock. Athenian airs here stir the syringia bloom. Where glows a hill-top stands the Parthenon: Thessalian hills lie yonder in the gloaming. One might imagine: There, too, lies Lycabettus With the sadden gray of Hymettus just beyond. Or, there lies ”Cyllene” Hoar the Wizzard’s place, Fit circumstance for Inspiration’s pen. The fl young philosophers” of the garden may here And also doth her environs accredit her [abide.] Her music-mood, and all which appertains Her color-sense: deserving our adjectives Miss Russell’s worthy brush— her 11 Forest Fire,” — The actual flame devouring primal woods! E’en here is Phithia, for luscious fruits renowned, And, healing waters such as Lourdres hath; And, mountain torrents born of summit snows; And, halls of learning wisely inventoried, — With wreaths of culture forming on her stem: The Muses live where births her mountain flood 14 WHERE LIE THE OREGONS Midst vernal slopes and vocal hidden nooks, Whence it flows to debauch into the Val. <^j) But this — what land is this whose gathered rills Commingle waters with a majestic stream? What land is this where suns prevail their warmth On bursting bud and bloom and ripening fruits, And lengthening landscape vistas purple-ringed As minstral summits by Australian gulfs. This is that land of orchards, flocks and herds The "Fathers" saw when Whitman blazed a trail Up through the tangled mystery of barban woods, Where crouched the leopard in his eirie tree When rude the Indian wild passed on his way To Wizzard’s haunt or red-caved Lava Beds. Or, on again toward Dawn’s horizon bold Where many rivers merge their untamed floods Which catch and hold, when summer is in leaf, The morning’s blush, and, the rarely prismed shafts Of pink-light woven through the slumber moons Whose radience floods the land from berg and townj O’er valleys wide and plain in fragrance bathed^ T o fall in fullness on the west shore bays. This is that land where plains and wildwood haunt. And glowing mountain peak, and vocal dell, And voiceful minature fall, and laughing rill, Lean flowery-robed down to Rogue River’s flood. Where Rogue Land’s hills are ringed of color-mists, WHERE LIE THE OREGONS 15 There dawn and dusk-lights fall on field and fern, And mead and orchard wealth, by Medford town ♦ Whose destiny now gathers to the point Of greatness hinging on her plussing strength^ And also on that determinative (will) Without which all things must fall broken down. Yet where- with-all can failure her attend Whose efforts link her resource with her zeal. Here the wealth of Orm depends from orchard boughs, Here the comice pear finds fit congenial clime; Here the berry ripens luscious to the lip, Here the melon crimsons in the summer noons; While everywhere is seen the purple grape Rich blooded as the fruit of Chios’ vine. ©©©©©©©©© The bird imaginatation again swings northward: The lightnings aid her wings o’er winding rivers. In penciled marine shadows Portland now, (Rich Queen Rose City stately by the Wauna)! Appears in splendor garments thro’ the dawn-light* When Daphne^like a mist^ floats thro the forest. Her destiny the mountain gods are guarding: Nor Ariadnean Noxos was more dreamy, Nor Milete greater of a sculpture promise, Nor Ormus more polite in trade or learning. Near by, sprung on the land is Pherne and Orthus. Admetus beckons us down to his open lattice, Apollo ^tending flocks on Multnomah’s swards WHERE LIE THE OREGONS 16 Pipes softly now on oaten straw low music. The pendulum of day swings into the west, The breathing sea coys with the opal rocks. The shadows deepen on Philomath’s hills, The wolf slys down from caves in the flanking woods. The wood-deer, famished, seeks Nehalam’s springs, The panther crouches leer on some lone rock. Imagination fashions on the hour a temple’s dome: There stands proud Agra’s peerless Taj-Mahal; And there: Larissa’s towers and minarets, Wrapped in the golden light of India’s night. There looms Cambalac’s red avenue of statues, Or there is Hur with ancient dome and spire. Y on toward the sea is Ossa and Olympus: Fit shrines where to repair our common faith. Homeric Hellas bounds our straining view. Behold the fragrant vales where Hafiz dream’d. Here too might Theocritius chant his songs To the tremulous evening soul in wood and wold. Some Corydon or Luicidas leaves his flocks To lend his pipe’s refrain to Circe's notes. Through vale and dell and grove of lutent tree; Where feathered songsters flutter midst the light Of aureoled leaf and arches sun- suffused, A silver note, like some fond joy astray Down leagues of meadow land and leafy wild, Doth softly tinkle by some minature fall WHERE LIE THE OREGONS 17 Or, muflled lowly when the wood-gods pass, Seems but the sob-tones of an astral bell When waning day, reluctant, rests his wing On Hood’s bold summit of rose-tint and fire: The violet sea of Sunium, when spring is young, Is not more lovely than our leagued lakes! The Oregons shore on the Western Sea: Exquisitely beautiful the landscapes are. The haze of evening merges color-schemes: Imperial colors crowd the empyrean. Aurora’s maid^yyith flute and castenet, ^ Steal rosy-limbed thro Flora’s gaiVtured vale& Delicious variances of color harg Abroad upon the hills of sea and land. Rude, bungle-voiced, proportioned forests rool Their anthems down upon the sky-hung waves. The appreciation of variant distinctiveness Gives to the hour a creeping sense of fear, Such as belonged to the woods when savage men Contended with the cat for empire here. The Oregons are ripe inheritances: Be strong — her sons — to reap her yellow grains. No mountain son was ever yet a slave: An empire bursts to bloom by Wauna’s flood. Spoked to the hub of Medford’s traffic-wheel Is golden wealth, and, opportunity. The wheels of commerce turnTvhere waters meet: From Portland’s wharfs great ships go down to sea! 30 2 098499244 Medford’s Fashion Store for Me n The Leading Clothiers, Hatters and Men’s Outfitters "The Toggery" MEDFORD: . ■ OREGON Crater Lake Lumber Co. SUBSTANTIAL MILL WORK PROGRESSIVE for HOUSE BUILDING Your Patronage is Solicited. EDGAR S. HAFER, Mgr. W. 1. VAWTER, President GEO. C. LINDLEY, Cashier 3ark0ott (Hmmtij lank WELL SURPLUSED UP-TO-DATE RELIABLE MEDFORD, OREGON