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2180

OURS

LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY, DECEMBER 8, 1906
[_]

READ AT A BANQUET IN HONOR OF HENRY WATTERSON UPON HIS DEPARTURE FOR SPAIN

Here where of old was heard
The ringing, singing word
That orator and bard
Alike set free
To soar, through heights profound,
Our land's remotest bound,
Till all is holy ground
From sea to sea—
Here still, with voice and pen,
One cheers the hopes of men
And gives us faith again—
This gifted one
We hold here as the guest
Most honored—loved the best—
Wisest and worthiest—
Our Watterson.

2181

His spirit is the Seer's—
For, though he sees and hears
Through human doubts and fears,
His heart is one
With Earth's and the Divine—
With his home-hearts—and mine—
And the child's heart is thine,
Our Watterson!
Give us to touch and praise
His worth in subtlest ways,
Lest even our fondest gaze
He fain would shun—
Laugh, though a mist appears—
The glad wine salt with tears—
Laugh, as we drain it—“Here's
Our Watterson!”