 | Farm legends |  |
164
TO THE CARLETON CIRCLE
(Of Hudson, Michigan: the Author's native town)
[In response to their Request for a Word of Greeting at their Annual Reunion, Monday Evening, July 26, 1886.]
Sometimes there comes to me a word of cheer,
From yonder region where the sun goes down;
Where I have often watched him disappear,
And leave awhile the jewels of his crown.
That voice glides over Erie's stormy edge—
It climbs the Alleghanies' rugged ledge,
And tarries not for dale or mountain crest,
Till it makes music in my own home-nest.
From yonder region where the sun goes down;
Where I have often watched him disappear,
And leave awhile the jewels of his crown.
That voice glides over Erie's stormy edge—
It climbs the Alleghanies' rugged ledge,
And tarries not for dale or mountain crest,
Till it makes music in my own home-nest.
It says, “We would be better, wiser, truer,
Each day we live; the best that is in us,
We aim to nourish, that it may endure,
And pray that God will help our striving thus.
With reason-builded curiousness we yearn
The depths of history's changing tides to learn;
The weird discoveries that proud science made,
And the pen's song—we ask them all for aid.”
Each day we live; the best that is in us,
We aim to nourish, that it may endure,
And pray that God will help our striving thus.
With reason-builded curiousness we yearn
The depths of history's changing tides to learn;
The weird discoveries that proud science made,
And the pen's song—we ask them all for aid.”
The old town marches eastward to the sea;
Roofs, windows, belfries, door-stones—all are here;
Again its busy streets encompass me—
Their outlines never looked so full and clear.
Shop, factory, office, church and clattering mill;
The trim red school-house smiling from the hill;
The mimic river with its placid tide,
The quaint old graveyard lingering by its side;
Roofs, windows, belfries, door-stones—all are here;
Again its busy streets encompass me—
Their outlines never looked so full and clear.
Shop, factory, office, church and clattering mill;
The trim red school-house smiling from the hill;
The mimic river with its placid tide,
The quaint old graveyard lingering by its side;
165
And all the home-made dramas of the past,
Are acted over with a mellower grace;
The wedding-bells that rang so loud and fast—
The sombre funeral, with its village pace;
The young full-blooded boys that roamed the street;
The old men Death was walking out to meet;
The good grandames whose gossip whipped the hours;
The girls with faces stolen from the flowers;
Are acted over with a mellower grace;
The wedding-bells that rang so loud and fast—
The sombre funeral, with its village pace;
The young full-blooded boys that roamed the street;
The old men Death was walking out to meet;
The good grandames whose gossip whipped the hours;
The girls with faces stolen from the flowers;
Those forms I knew, in reappearing hosts,
Crowd every corner, as on gala days;
They throng the mind—these silent memory-ghosts,
Then sadly smile, and vanish from the gaze.
And some I loved beyond all words' control,
And some I hated with an uncurbed soul
(For he who likes this world, and means to stay,
Must yearn, and toil, and love, and fight his way).
Crowd every corner, as on gala days;
They throng the mind—these silent memory-ghosts,
Then sadly smile, and vanish from the gaze.
And some I loved beyond all words' control,
And some I hated with an uncurbed soul
(For he who likes this world, and means to stay,
Must yearn, and toil, and love, and fight his way).
All this was for the best; and now in love
We look at those who once awakened ire;
If we but lift our hearts and souls above,
The crushing waves will only lift us higher.
Ere you once more return to shadow-land,
Dead friend—dead foe—I clasp you by the hand!
It may be now that you on whom I call,
Look at the earth-feuds as exceeding small!
We look at those who once awakened ire;
If we but lift our hearts and souls above,
The crushing waves will only lift us higher.
Ere you once more return to shadow-land,
Dead friend—dead foe—I clasp you by the hand!
It may be now that you on whom I call,
Look at the earth-feuds as exceeding small!
And now there float to me some words of cheer,
From yonder region where the sun goes down;
From kindred souls, whose presence would be dear—
From the loved living of my native town!
To prove once more an old truth it may serve,
That God e'er gives men more than they deserve,
That 'mid the struggles of your lofty aim,
You look this way and call to me by name.
From yonder region where the sun goes down;
From kindred souls, whose presence would be dear—
From the loved living of my native town!
To prove once more an old truth it may serve,
That God e'er gives men more than they deserve,
That 'mid the struggles of your lofty aim,
You look this way and call to me by name.
Ah, would that I were worthy of the task,
To see that all your diamonds were saved!
'Tis the best joy that any one can ask—
To give to others what himself has craved.
Whoe'er can teach you life's most brilliant art,
To make the most of body, mind, and heart—
Will feel that fact, his inmost being bless,
More than the costliest jewels of success!
To see that all your diamonds were saved!
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To give to others what himself has craved.
Whoe'er can teach you life's most brilliant art,
To make the most of body, mind, and heart—
Will feel that fact, his inmost being bless,
More than the costliest jewels of success!
Sometimes there comes a blessed word of cheer
From yonder region where the sun shines high;
It brings a joy, it casts out every fear;
It is the motto of th' eternal sky!
Be true, be brave, be faithful; let your heart
With worldly joys and sorrows take their part;
While brain and soul cling to the gleaming cars
Whose goal is Heaven—whose stations are the stars.
From yonder region where the sun shines high;
It brings a joy, it casts out every fear;
It is the motto of th' eternal sky!
Be true, be brave, be faithful; let your heart
With worldly joys and sorrows take their part;
While brain and soul cling to the gleaming cars
Whose goal is Heaven—whose stations are the stars.
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