[Newton's two hundredth anniversary, in] Celebration of the Two Hundredth Anniversary of the Incorporation of the Town of Newton, Massachusetts, December 27, 1888 Published by order of the City Council. Under direction of the City Clerk |
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 | [Newton's two hundredth anniversary, in] Celebration of the Two Hundredth Anniversary of the Incorporation of the Town of Newton, Massachusetts, December 27, 1888 |  |
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NEWTON'S TWO HUNDREDTH ANNIVERSARY.
POEM.
With filial love and reverent thoughts, we scan
The glimmering dawn in which the town began:
How, one by one, with spirits brave and true,
The founders left the old and sought the new,
Pitched their frail tents upon the virgin sod,—
Indians their neighbors, and their helper, God;
Taught the wild savage from rude strife to cease,
And learn the nobler arts of love and peace.
The glimmering dawn in which the town began:
How, one by one, with spirits brave and true,
The founders left the old and sought the new,
Pitched their frail tents upon the virgin sod,—
Indians their neighbors, and their helper, God;
Taught the wild savage from rude strife to cease,
And learn the nobler arts of love and peace.
Good men and wise,—men of both brawn and brain,—
From tangled woods they wrought this fair domain;
Planted an acorn from a foreign oak,
Where wild winds whistled and the tempests broke;
Watched it and watered, as it upward grew,—
Child of the sun and storm, the frost and dew.
'Twas wreathed around with clouds, blue, white, and red,
And a whole heaven of starlight overhead.
They loved and guarded it by day and night,
Beneath its shade sat with profound delight,
And taught their sons the reverent love to share
Of those who nursed the tender sapling there.
From tangled woods they wrought this fair domain;
Planted an acorn from a foreign oak,
Where wild winds whistled and the tempests broke;
Watched it and watered, as it upward grew,—
Child of the sun and storm, the frost and dew.
'Twas wreathed around with clouds, blue, white, and red,
And a whole heaven of starlight overhead.
They loved and guarded it by day and night,
Beneath its shade sat with profound delight,
And taught their sons the reverent love to share
Of those who nursed the tender sapling there.
Brave oak! see how its honored head it rears,
Stands peerless in its majesty of years,
Laughs at the echo of the centuries' tread,
And bids the living emulate the dead.
Stands peerless in its majesty of years,
Laughs at the echo of the centuries' tread,
And bids the living emulate the dead.
Whence came the founders of this rising State,—
The fair, the fond, the beautiful, the great?
Some, with strong muscle, skilled to build or plan,
Came from the workshop of the artisan;
Some from the polished town, the school, the mart,
Some from the farm; while some, with loving heart,
Linked to some noble soul, in youthful bloom,
Dared to the forest to transplant the home;
By the sweet grace of woman to refine,
To shed around her path a light Divine,
The faint adventurer's courage to sustain,
To raise the fallen to life and hope again,
And help the sire to bear the weary load,
Strengthened and stayed by woman's faith in God.
The fair, the fond, the beautiful, the great?
Some, with strong muscle, skilled to build or plan,
Came from the workshop of the artisan;
Some from the polished town, the school, the mart,
Some from the farm; while some, with loving heart,
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Dared to the forest to transplant the home;
By the sweet grace of woman to refine,
To shed around her path a light Divine,
The faint adventurer's courage to sustain,
To raise the fallen to life and hope again,
And help the sire to bear the weary load,
Strengthened and stayed by woman's faith in God.
Such were the fathers of the little flock,
And such the mothers, brave to bear the shock
Of hopes deferred, till—the fair model made—
The deep foundations of the town were laid.
And such the mothers, brave to bear the shock
Of hopes deferred, till—the fair model made—
The deep foundations of the town were laid.
I see, as backward now I turn my eye,
The quaint but grand procession filing by:
Jackson and Fuller, Prentice, Hyde, and Park,
Bacon and Hammond, Kenrick, Ward, and Clarke,
Wiswell and Eliot, Trowbridge, Spring, and Stone,
Parker and Williams, Hobart, Bartlett,—known
As men of substance, brave, and wise, and good—
Their light still shines,—an honored brotherhood.
All, all have passed: their noble deeds remain,
As the sweet summer sun and dew and rain
Pass from our sight and sense, but re-appear
In golden harvests,—crown of all the year.
The quaint but grand procession filing by:
Jackson and Fuller, Prentice, Hyde, and Park,
Bacon and Hammond, Kenrick, Ward, and Clarke,
Wiswell and Eliot, Trowbridge, Spring, and Stone,
Parker and Williams, Hobart, Bartlett,—known
As men of substance, brave, and wise, and good—
Their light still shines,—an honored brotherhood.
All, all have passed: their noble deeds remain,
As the sweet summer sun and dew and rain
Pass from our sight and sense, but re-appear
In golden harvests,—crown of all the year.
What found they here? those souls so brave and true,—
Risking the well-known old for the unknown new.
A forest home, lands rough and unsubdued,
Absence of early friends, a solitude;
No civil state, no patent of the free,
But taxed by Cambridge for the right to be;
The savage war-whoop struck their souls with dread,
The Indian arrows round their dwellings sped,
And many a timid heart, with bodings drear,
Kept Lent of hope and Carnival of fear.
Risking the well-known old for the unknown new.
A forest home, lands rough and unsubdued,
Absence of early friends, a solitude;
No civil state, no patent of the free,
But taxed by Cambridge for the right to be;
The savage war-whoop struck their souls with dread,
The Indian arrows round their dwellings sped,
And many a timid heart, with bodings drear,
Kept Lent of hope and Carnival of fear.
What have they brought us? See! these fair domains,—
The fruit of patient toil and wearying pains;
The fame of wise men, destined still to grow;
The fame of progress, real, if often slow;
The hum of study in our learned halls;
The grace and beauty of our pictured walls;
Our noble churches of enduring stone;
Our public gardens with their sweet flowers strewn;
The fame of men who firm in battle stood,
And bought the rights of freemen with their blood,
And in the nation's struggle won the field,
Too wise to compromise, too brave to yield,
And walked unshrinking through the deadly fires,—
The patriot sons, alike, and patriot sires.
The fruit of patient toil and wearying pains;
The fame of wise men, destined still to grow;
The fame of progress, real, if often slow;
The hum of study in our learned halls;
The grace and beauty of our pictured walls;
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Our public gardens with their sweet flowers strewn;
The fame of men who firm in battle stood,
And bought the rights of freemen with their blood,
And in the nation's struggle won the field,
Too wise to compromise, too brave to yield,
And walked unshrinking through the deadly fires,—
The patriot sons, alike, and patriot sires.
These are our jewels, these our joy and boast,
Worthy the toils they brought, the wealth they cost,—
A rich return for efforts, zeal, and fears,
Blest harvests of these great two hundred years.
Worthy the toils they brought, the wealth they cost,—
A rich return for efforts, zeal, and fears,
Blest harvests of these great two hundred years.
| [Newton's two hundredth anniversary, in] Celebration of the Two Hundredth Anniversary of the Incorporation of the Town of Newton, Massachusetts, December 27, 1888 | |