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Lisping Leaves 
 
 W. E. PABOR, Pabor Lake, Avon Park, Fla., 
 
 POET LAUREATE. 
 
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 .nniversary Poem read before th 
 National Editorial Association at 
 its Twentieth Annual Meeting 
 Guthrie, Oklahoma, June 7-9, 1905 
 
 j» 
 
 Designed and Printed by 
 
 RANK G. PABOR, Publishe 
 DeLand, Fla. 
 

 : ^V or OONGRtSS 
 Two Copies- Keceiveu 
 
 MAY 31 1905 
 
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Tt comes through the open casement 
 
 With the first faiht flush of dawn. 
 Like a whisper, soft and swelling 
 
 From out of the lips of morn; 
 And no lilting lay sounds sweeter 
 
 Than the one the South Wind weaves. 
 As a gift to those who worship 
 
 At th' shrine of the Lisping Leaves. 
 
 The tremulous tones, so tender. 
 
 All tell of the unseen power, 
 That rules over rain and sunshine 
 
 And burgeons the woodland bower, 
 Where close to the heart of Nature 
 
 Lies balm for the one who grieves, 
 Till his soul is sensed with solace 
 
 That comes from the Lisping Leaves. 
 
 And when, through the hours of darkness 
 
 Come the dreams that stab the soul — 
 When tides from the Tsle of Sorrow 
 
 Their turbulent billows roll — 
 And when there's a throb of triumph 
 
 That forevermore deceives. 
 Then cometh the time to listen 
 
 For the lisping of the leaves; 
 
That lightens the load of anguish 
 
 Too deep for pencil or pen, 
 Till the hands of Time turn backward 
 
 And each is a child again, 
 And hears, as of old, the story 
 
 (The one that the Mother weaves) 
 Of the birds, the bees, the blossoms 
 
 And the lisping of the leaves. 
 
 Be he sage or be he soldier 
 
 With his books or battle blade — 
 One will hearken in the cloister 
 
 One will listen in the glade, 
 For the flutter of the leaflet 
 
 With its wealth of garnered sheaves 
 That comes in the early dawnlight 
 
 With the lisping of the leaves. 
 
 From the days of Eve and Adam 
 
 And the fable of fig leaves, 
 To the days of these new women 
 
 That the "co-ed" school achieves, 
 We find the feminine fancy 
 
 Falls less and less on the leaves 
 That carry the Eros message 
 
 To Eden's where wait fair Eve's. 
 
But I think of Ruth, the Gleaner 
 
 In the held of barley sheaves 
 And the sweet hope that was whispered 
 
 In her ears by lisping leaves; 
 For love is the crown of living 
 
 And a woman's heart a throne 
 Where she wields a greater scepter 
 
 Than the world has ever known. 
 
fnrt XX 
 
There's another kind of lisping, 
 
 There are other kind of leaves, 
 That are green through all the seasons 
 
 Beneath hall or cottage eaves; 
 And, like Nature's leaves and blossoms 
 
 That bloom in the fields and bowers, 
 To the world they pulse the progress 
 
 And the heart-throb of the hours. 
 
 There is one with Merlin's magic 
 
 That enfolds the world around; 
 That floats on a sheet of paper 
 
 Where the drops of ink abound; 
 With each lisping leaf imprisoned 
 
 Within Mergenthaler lines 
 That to some give fadeless laurels 
 
 And to others withered vines. 
 
 Ts it but a passing fancy 
 
 Born of woodland lisping leaves 
 That from Nature comes suggestions 
 
 For the songs the Singer weaves? 
 For the thoughts that come at midnight 
 
 To be heralded abroad 
 As a shining leaf of olive 
 
 Or a glittering crimson sword? 
 
I recall the olden adage 
 
 "There's a soul in every leaf;" 
 Unto some, words with no meaning 
 
 But to me, a sweet belief, 
 Be they leaves of trees or flowers 
 
 Each a message has to men 
 Wiser than ever was written 
 
 By the Brothers of the Pen; — 
 
 As they listen to the lisping 
 
 That come from electric leaves 
 While the editorial fingers 
 
 Shape the story into sheaves, 
 Unto some a golden harvest, 
 
 Unto some a flame of fire, 
 As they see a glad fulfilment 
 
 Or the death of their desire. 
 
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 Jfkmit&sr ^"aiixutni thxixtrml 
 Assivcmtimt 
 
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Who from ocean shore to ocean 
 
 And from inland lake to bay, 
 Have gathered each year together 
 
 As we gather here today, 
 And, lifting our blazoned banner 
 
 Be we grave or be we gay 
 We rally around the leader 
 
 Who founded the N. E. A. 
 
 May his heart be full of comfort 
 
 As we know it is with prfde 
 As he grasps the hands that meet him 
 
 As he turns on either side; 
 But for him, we were as strangers; 
 
 But for him, as scattered sheaves; 
 Who are now a band of brothers 
 
 W T ho listen to lisping leaves. 
 
 There are many gifted brothers 
 
 Who have fallen with the years; 
 There are many vanished faces 
 
 That we only see through tears; 
 When the lisping leaves sang "30" 
 
 As a sign their task was done 
 They went smiling to the new life 
 
 In the land beyond the sun; 
 
Where the lisping leaves are fadeless 
 
 And the night is as the day 
 To celestial pencil pushers 
 
 As they walk the shining way; 
 And I sometimes think the twinkle 
 
 Of the stars is but a sign 
 From eyes that once looked lovingly 
 
 Into your glad eyes and mine. 
 
 u W r 
 
^ir:- ^tctr ^jrattglsi* Banner 
 
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O say do you know we have come from afar, 
 
 From our homes on the plains, by the lakes and 
 
 the ocean, 
 With our sweet-hearts and wives, we're on board 
 
 of this car. 
 And we're going to ride while the engine has 
 
 motion 
 We are out for a lark in the daylight or dark 
 And while on this trip we just rise to remark 
 That the N. E. A. Banner's afloat and we know 
 We will keep it a-floating-, wherever we go! 
 
 From the moist Everglades, from the pine woods 
 of Maine, 
 From the cliffs where the sands are both sil- 
 ver and golden, 
 From the shores of the gulf, from the fields green 
 with grain. 
 We pushers of pencils, if young folks or olden. 
 With a loud voice declare, that as brothers we 
 
 share 
 The belief that life's troubles are lig;hter than air. 
 As the X. E. A. Banner we lift up and cry 
 'Tis the Pharos whose beams light up Liberty's 
 sky. 
 
And whose was the hand, that first lifted our 
 
 flag, 
 In the land where magnolias smile down upon 
 roses? 
 Who still is our leader, whose steps do not lag, 
 Who, ever each year some new pleasure dis- 
 closes? 
 Who but Herbert whose pen, has again and 
 
 again, 
 Been placed at the service of newspaper men, 
 As the N. E. A. Banner he lifted in air 
 And yelled like a cow-boy, knock it down if you 
 dare! 
 
 O then be it ever as brothers we stand, 
 
 Whatever our creed or whatever our station, 
 For our hearts and our homes and our w T ell 
 
 beloved land 
 And our sweethearts who beat all the rest of 
 
 creation; 
 Then prosper we must, for our rates they are 
 
 just, 
 And this is our motto: spot cash lest we bust; 
 For the N. E. A. Banner's afloat and you bet 
 We are jolly good fellows and don't you forget. 
 
may;ii;i905 
 
 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
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