PS 1799 .H3 Copy 1 VOICES FROM THE n CASCADES i -by/ ORRIN E. HARMON I Lewis County Bee Print. VOICES FROM THE P 1 BY ORRIN E. HARMON CHEHAUS, W. T.: Lewis County Bek Peint, 1886. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES THE LYRE. O who witli dullness hears the strain That lives within the Muse's lyre ; That falls in niany a soft refrain And fills oui- longing heart's desire? Of frin stand And glory ])e hers at the last. Thou glorious banner, forever unroll Thy colors o'er land and o'er sea; And e'er shall our songs from the depths of llie S(>ul Be given to freedom and thee. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. THE LAND OF WASHINGTON. Boast not to me that otliei- lands Have greater l)eauties than c ur own ; Creation's circle here expands In charms nnrivalled and alone. Beside the mild Pacific seas This region fair lies bordering; Kissed gentiy by the o(?ean breeze, Blooms ever in perennial spring. Supremely grand her mountains rise To realms of everlasting snow ; And from those peaks built to the skies, A thousand stream^ unceasing flow. And gather brooks from glen and hill : The pearly waters murmuring free. With music all the valleys fill And go rejoicing to the sea. Here spreads enchanting forest wealth And plenty crowns the fruitful soil ; Here comfort, competence and health Await the sturdy laborer's toil. Our ladened ships the billows brave And bear the stars and stripes afar ; Soon may our Nation's Banner wave More proudly v.-ith another star. Then one and all we'll work and sing To make our domain free and great, And to the Union ranks we'll bring The emblems of a mighty state. Through peace and Avar, joy and distress, Forever as the ages run, With patriot hearts we'll fondlv bless The name and land of WASHINGTON. VOICES FROM THE OASCADEB. THE LOGGER'S SONG. My home is in the wild wood, Among the grand old trees, V.diere flowers bloom and murmur brooks And plays th^ c hei.uhts a ivind woi-d 1 wish some voice would h(\ar; Circhng thy foru', freedom's bird Floats in the snowy air. And from tliv throne so stately, Oe'i'looking a vast world, Groat king of niountains tell me The scenes thou seest unfurled. ("'J'here forest> stretch — the world's pride- Mounts rise o'er liill and plain ; Theie famed Columbia's tide Rolls to the ).>oundlcss main.") Does not'the glorious sun (hi Pacific's wave look bright? WIkm. in the glens day is done, On thee still gleams his light. Gorgeous are the sunbeams That 'round thy summit meet ; Lulling songs are in the streanjs Tliat murmur at thy feet. When summer skies are o'er thee, And blow the l)almy gales, Dost thou not breathe with heart free The airs of flowery dales? So many are the blessings By thee to mortals giv^en, Thou must receive caressings From the kind hand of heaven. 12 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. Oft as a won(]erinpy scenes Hit : I think of the joys and pure deligh.ts Fve shared in my ramble among those heights: And again I lE9. From those woo'd haunts of joy she turned Her sire's sweet smile to greet no more ! Mid anxious craze in vain she yearned For that aged form in the eotta<^e door. Dim was the light of parting day, When Marietta sorrowing stood, Beside her speechless sire who lay Mid airs of death-like solitude. His clammy hands she gently pressed ; Cold and pale was his furrowed cheek ; Beyond earth's realms he dwelt at rest Where cometh not the winter bleak. And when the morrow came arrayed, — With springtime beauty mmtled o'er, Low in his grave he there was In id Beside the loved ones gone before. And Marietta's tribute graced His grave — to her a holy shrine; — There with a reverent tear she placed A myrtle 'neath a verdant pine. Oft to his grave she roams to strew Bright flowers — pure emblems, sweet, divine; And like the evergreen's fair hue. Her virtues still unfadin"; shine. VOICES PROM THE CASCADES. 19 VOICE OF THE MOUNTAIN. I rise in silent grandeur O'er all the creatures of earth ; I speak of the mipjht and power Of Hi in who gave me birth. Through the rolling years and seasons, Like a sentinel true I stand ; Nor fall when the tempest strikes me With swift and violent hand. I wateh with steady vision The changes beneath the sky — The abodes of the dead and living In the valleys that round me lie. Deem not my form so kingly Is dead to sorrow and love ; My countenance, mind and feeling Are kindred to heaven above. When the summer rays sliine o'er me, My frozen tears, how they flow ; They are tears of ghadness filling The fretting brooks below ; Flowing onward and onward To the broad and restless sea; But the sun and wind u ill return them, My tears of gladness to me. Dear children, fondly listening To the streamlet's musical flow, That murmur sings of the beauty Hid in my treasures of snow. In the sultry hour of noonday, The breeze you welcome as sweet, Has breathed the wintry coolness Of my lofty, lone retreat. 20 TO'TCES FHOM' THE CASCADES. I tower ill silent grandeur, Through darkness, storm and light ; The first to greet the sun's rising, The last to bid him good night. And when you bid me good night, The cold, still mansions to keep, I'll cherish your memory ever And i^uard the vales where you sleep. OUT WEST. Once, in no distant eastern clime, A lawyer young, with zest. Betook the migl>ty notion That he would travel west. To a land of wealth and plenty — It was a common boast — The famous land of Washington, On the Pacific coast. O'er the plains and rugged mountains He rode his h^nely way, An<] landed safe where all liis hopes And drean^s did f(>nect wide, Resolved to drive his stake; And there among the mammoth firs His fame and fortune make. liut soon he learned with keen surprise One thing he sur.^ must do, .Just like bis youthful lawyer kin, Must teach a school or two. VOICES TROM THE CASCADES. "21 With wonted courage forth he strov«3 At the schoolmaster's task ; The spot where he and pupil toil'd, 0, querist, never ask. One pleasant morn the master came Into the cahin rude ; He paused, and through the yawning rents The mountain scenery viewed. And chise he eyed the homely frame — The henches ph'iinly made ; The breezes soft most freely through The paneless windows p Laved. ''Though hard my lot it seemeth be, Yet sweet enjoyment fills My soul, for 'tween these rustic logs I'll scan the dales and hills." His jHipils^were of varied cast; Some few so eager strove To learn, they seemed bound to their books With ties of wedded love. Some were so l)rainless for thick skulls, Naught could in them be sent With all the moral 'suasion That prayer and rod invent. One day while arguing into these Some good old fashioned lore, The skies were canopied with clouds, The rain and hail did pour. Upon the hollow sounding roof The deaf'ning beat was spread ; The master felt the driving hail Upon his hairless head. 22 VOICES- FROM THE CASCA-DES. And casting heavenward his gaze. Grave terror filled his soul — He spied the hail a pelting through An empty stove-pipe hole. And as the storm more angry grew, The winds more hmdly roared, The master, stung with hail and grief, His lanjcntations poured. "Alasjsuch is the fate of all Young lawyers who will go, From eastern joys to western wilds. And with the country grow. "In this fair land of sunny bliss My fancy did revere, The Sunshine comes in watery drops Just thirteen months a year. "O, give me back my dear old home, That sweet old home of mine. Where Johnny-cake and ague thrive Beneath the bright sunshine." And of the rain and hail and hut, There yet remains to tell, Upon the lawyer's barren head, A decent fleshy swell. And people wonder as they gaze^ And think son»e genius great Lies 'ncath that bump that soon will rule In nation and in state. But ye phrenologists and all. No undue laurels rob ; It was a wicked hailstone Did the unsightly job. VOICES FROM- THR CASCADES.- 23 UNCLE TICE. Old Uncle Tice he had a son, — A wa3^ward bo}' was he ; He turned his back on home and friends And off he went to sea. And uncle had a daughter fair, Of winning ways and shrewd ; She did outwit her pa and ma And skipped out with a dude. Now Uncle Tice and his dear spouse In sorrow lived alone ; They did confess their fondest joys On fickle wings had flown. So, counting all their troubles o'er, Resolved it was the best To leave the long loved homestead And try the ruijged west. They started in an ox team rig ^ Right toward the setting sun, Nor rested long until they gained The genial Washington. And there amid the woody tracts, With many a scene to charm, They settled by great Puget Sound To dig them out a farm. Now Uncle Tice's neighbors thought He was right capable, And so they put him in the race For precinct constable. But oh, that sad election day ! INIust I its issue note? Dear Uncle lost the cherished prize By just a. single vote ! 24 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. With heavy heart he homeward went — "What have the vihains done? Dear Jane, I'm not an ofheer Bv one vote, only one !" "Cheer up my dear," she calmly said; "Your gentle self regain ; Thoujrh strange it seem to you, my dear, I'll make the matter plain. "I've ever had, my dearest Josh, Your welfare dee]) at heart ; If you were constable, my .dear. We oft must live apart. "We women here in Washington Can vote just as we like ; I — I voted not for you, my dear. But for our neighbor Pike." "Cursed be the woman's vote !" he cried ; "Farewell to home and thee !" He fled and climbed a ragged cliff That overlooks the sea, And plunged right into Puget Sound, That bed of unknown graves ; His wife a mourning widow still, He sleeps beneath the waves. Ye wlio may read this doleful tale Wlien 'lection days come 'round, Remember well the reason why Old Uncle Tice got drowned. V0TCE3^ TViO-MT tHE ' CAfeCl!5l5S. " '!25 THE LAWYER'S CAREER. Far out west in a thriving town, An eastern lawyer settled down. His books were few, his capital small, Yet 'twas a fact he owned them all. Thus free from debt, and free from a wife, This lawyer began liis western life. An office he took on a busy street And hung out his "shingle" large and neat; And thought he surely that sign so plain Would bring him clients and flushing gain. lie sat in his office day after day ; Weeks and months passed slowly away. He built high hopes and dreamed of fame ; For his ready service no one came. But a strong purpose was part of his mould ; He declared he would wait with courage bold ; And he said, "Somehow I do not thrive; If I cannot mow, I'll whet m}^ scj'the." x\nd now to the careless world he looks, Then turn.s with anxious mind to his books. Through all the day we see him toil, And e'en he burns the midnight oil, Conning the masters new and old From Edward Coke to P]stee and Gould; Still learning, planning and dreaming of fame, But unto him yet no clients came. A thought crossed o'er his troubled mind : "This world to me seems verv unkind : 28 VOICES FROM- THE CASCADES. "The people here too much are given To things less earthly and more of heaven. "Adieu for a time, dear law books; once more I'll try the schoolroom, as in days of yore." And in a log cabin, by rules of three, He trains the urchins ri^^ht masterly. A 3^ear has passed — the lawyer and sage From the school room parts as a bird from its cage. To his office be goes — from beginning to end It looks like a sad, deserted friend. Again by his books he studiously sits, Striving to live by his learning and wits; Filling his mind with solid rules To be practiced in courts and not in the schools. At length, one day, to his office came A man good looking, aged and lame ; And despite good looks, hi^ bearing so old, This is the story the lawyer he told : "Dv^ar Mr. Lawyer, I am in trouble ; My cares of late seem anxious to double. "This old politics^ bitter with strife. Mars the concord 'tween me and wife. "I'll not tell all that sours our bliss, But the chief trouble seems to be this : "I am from York-state, she is from Maine; I am for Cleveland, she is for Blaine. "We argue and argue and all to no good — At last we stand where first we stood, "Unless, perchance, she fiercely uproars. And threatens to drive me clean out of doors. 'TOTCES FHOM THE CASCADES. 27 ''And it seems, kind sir, since vote that she can, I am the woman and slie is the man. "I try to be patient, gentle and pure — I can not, dear sir, this misery endure. "And now, Mr. Lawyer, since I've come to you, Pray tell me, kind sir, what am I to do?" *'A divorce ! a divorce !" the lawyer replied ; *' 'Tis the best cure that ever was tried. "Just fifty dollars ; the suit I'll begin ; It is a good cause — I surely can win." To the grave old Judge the story was told ; As he listened, his eyes most strangely rolled. The man told his tale, then came a halt. For she had made what they call a default. And the lawyer argued until he was hoarse. Praying the Judge to grant a divorce. But the st^rn old Judge squarely ruled ; (He was too old that wa\' to be fooled) : "Fm puzzled, astonished, beat with surprise That such a case should ever arise. "Nothing but politics causes the trouble ; 'Tis no cause of action, 'tis but a bubble. "The plaintiff and she who does not appear Together must live for many a year, "And such petty jars keep down for the while And each give the other kind words and a smile, "For bringing this suit, so foolish, now lost, The attorney shall pay two-thirds of the cost." Defeated and sad, the lawyer paced Back to his ofiice, feeling disgraced.' 28 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. And he swore that until he grew insane He'd enter the court-room never again. To thoughts more huml)le the lawyer turned ; For a smiling home he ardently 3^earned. By a bargain made with shrewdness and tact He gained for himself a five acre tract. And he bade his ambition a long farewell ;" On his five-acre tract he went to dwell ; But not all alone I would have you to know — He took a fair maiden pure as the snow. And there with his loved one he planted a home Where all rural beauty pleasantly shone. And still there he lives with his garden and wife Leading a peaceable, innocent life. A half dozen children or less he can show, And still the family continues to grow. The worry for office or partisan broil His solid contentment can not des2:)oil. Good heorted, neighborly, honest and shrewd, He bows not to lawyer, doctor, or dude : For he lives independent, his own lord and king, And of his sweet peace long shall we sing. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 29 LEGALIS SATIRICUS. When God created hun^an kind, To each he various gifls assigned: For rural toil, the workshop some, A tew to peal sweet music's hum ; Fair Genius' high aspiring hearts To muse among the finer arts; Those minds of curious seekiog range To cure diseases sad and strange ; And many — both the grave and droll — To Ileal the ailings of the soul; And nmst I pause to mention here The dandy-dude, b}" way of jeer? All these sometimes their quarrels have; To make them worse, a gift of gab God gave a few, with much of brass, — For lawyers these are wont to pass ; A clan, though to mankind no curse, Delight to make a lively "furse," By prating loud in torrents free, When naught inspires but just a fee. If long a city street you chance, And little 'round should cast a glance, A lettered tin your eye may draw : *Tetkr Swipes, Attorney at Law." Doubtless a little queer it seems. But this is what that sign-board means ''Come unto me, ye rich and poor: I hold the key to wisdom's door; The power of Gilead's balm is mine, My skillful aid is ever thine ; The title to youf lands I'll m^nd. Make debtors pay to those v;ho lend ; If Dick and Jane can not agree, From wedded bonds I'll set them free. 30 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. Ye who are given to kill and steal, For peace no inclination feel. Do come to me, and mercy, oh ! I'll make yoar heart with rapture glow ; Though Satan's guilt your soul attaint, I'll picture you a heavenly saint. ("Now this I say to one and all; Tliat when you make a business call, Let not my joy your faith upjar, For nothing 'tis but a cigar. Whose fumes 'round my uplifted feet, Display a lovely, smoky sheet That is to me surpassing sweet.") Now watch tliis justice dealer court; Behold his mein of lordly sort ! As to the stand each witness goes To spin the tale of what he knows. The lawyer's visage plainh' lells An ardent yearning in him swells. If from the adversary's cause He cross-examined knowledge draws, With cunning aim he pertly darts A query wreathed in tangling arts ; And thinks — "Tiunigh he's a v.-itness stout. I'll turn his stt^ry round about, ?>Iake all his answers contradict, Get all his brains bad intermixt — So muddled he can ne'er I trow Tell whether he said ves or no ; And nil l)ystanders full of glee,— An Alek stnnrt I am you see." Bee you yon group of drowsy men In number aU two more than ten? To mete out justice there they sit; The less they know the better fit. The lawyer soon before tllem stands With flashing eye and waving hands. Depicting tierce in phrases strong His client's rights and suffered wrong. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 31 Now list to his bewailing roar As forth he spreads his legal lore : His stormy flights so eloquent, They seem sweet sounds from Heaven sent. Anon, to show a freak of wit, From Pope or Shakspeare quotes a bit; Some ti(;kling anecdote he runs To raise the laugh of simpletons ; While thick and fast the wonders float "Is he a Curran, Knave, or Choate? How swell our sympathizing nerves I Poor client, })ity deep deserves ; If that fool crew of motley men Do not for him a verdict send,. Great Heaven, on them one and all Let wrath avenging heavy fall. To sober all this fuss}^ growl, The judge's penetrating scowl Proclaims — to grin is dire disgrace — Mirth in him ne'er found lodging place. The heart for justice struggling burns; The jury's verdict now returns; The judgment got by hook and crook Is penned within the mighty book, Its voice there ever to repeat, "Some one always niust get beat." From such mishap poor fellow shrinks, And thus soliloqizing thinks: "To grab one dollar I've lost two ; O Lordjforgive^ne'epmore I'll sue, For all mv life estate you see Mv lawver's turned into a fee." S2 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. THE MOUNTAIN CLIMBER. "How grandly soars yon mountain height! Those radiant tints of blue Spread o'er the slopes a mantle bright, Enrapturing to my view. "O ! let me leave this lonely vale And up that mountain climb; I'm sure no thorny ways prevail, No rugged path is mine. '' But o'er that meadowy carpet soft My journey brief will be ; Around yon rising peak aloft. Bright scenes are spread for me.'^ Thus spake a youth one summer morn ; The skies were soft and fair; When charms the mountain wilds adorn Allured his yearnings there. Yet seemed, as on the weary race With hastening step he led, The mountain form with equal pace Before his vision fled 1 " 'Tis hut a dream," he muttered low; '•Yet others there have been ; And though my nearing be but slow, The sunnnit I shall win." He forth with bright, reviving hopes The onward course i>ursued, To tread the "fair and njeadowy slopes'' Witl^. hopeful e3'e he viewed. The upward wa}' began to wind O'er rough and dreary wilds; His vision roamed in vain to find The lawn of flowery aisles. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 38 Not his to walk the down^y blue Afar to him displayed ; And seemed that fair illusion's hue His simple faith betyayed. Alas ! e'en Nature true deceives ! That robe of verdant glow Was but the spreading forest leaves O'erhanging cliffs b^dow ! Yet o'er the rocky crags and steep, No fenrs aroused his dread; Though gathering clouds o'er heaven's deep Their drenching torrents shed. Anticipation's cheerful ray His wearv steps led on. Till o'er the rude nnd stormy way The mountain height he won. O, happy youth, who would true fame, To glorious heights ascend, Entangling snares of rudest name The tiresome road attend. Though seem the pathway short and smooth, And cloudless l)e the day, They often pleasing phantoms prove To lure thee on the way. Yet, if to please ambition's sigh, You tread the rocky glade, Press on, around fame's summit high. Shine wreathes that never fade. 'Tis through the long and dusty ways Life's honors must be sought; The crown that wins true glory's praise With wearv toil is bought. 3-i VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. ANNIVERSARY POEM. The march of time once more Tells of the sacred day. When the notes of freedom were sounded Where oppression's arm bore sway. And oh ! wliat liallowed scenes Were kindled by that old bell, That rang from Independence Hall The story we love to tell ! Those pictures of daring strife That glow from history's page, May now in calm reflection ' The patriot's thoughts engage. We think that the sire and son For us tlieir blood did spill, On the fields of Saratoga, On the heights of Bunker Hill. We think through sufferings grave. How true each bore his part ; As we count the perils endured, What tender sympathies start ! The Chieftain of the camp, Mid December's chilly air. His band leads o'er the icy locks Afloat in the Delaware. Behold ! at Valley Forge, What rude and scanty fare ! With naught to cheer mid the winter's gloom, Their hopes wrapt in despair. As fall the soft rain drops On faded, low drooping flowers, So came those tidings of joy — Burgoyne's great army is ours. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 35 But list ! from Bennington — 'Tis on the verge of the fight ; "Brave bovs, we'll conquer to-day, Or Molly's a widow to-night." Deep, oh, deep was the joy When Yorktown's final gun Proclaimed, ''Now reign gentle peace, The battle of freedom is won.'' Thus planted our fathers The tree of Liberty ; It has grown to glorious heights, And lovely majesty ; Till 'neath its spreading boughs America's sons may rest, From the stately pines of Katahdin To the golden sands of the West. Then blest be the heroes of old ; We'll herald their d^^eds evermore, And sing sweet Liberty's theme O'er mountain, valley and shore. We'll cherish our country's glory, And let her banner wave free, Till her fame shall visit in splendor The far-awa3^ isles of the sea. July 4, 1879. 36 VOICKS FUO^I THE CASCADES. THE PATRIOT. Adown the distant ages flown, In orient climes across the sea, A light in feeble radiance shone — The rising sun of Libert\^ Adversity's dark, threatening ch)nd Around that h)vely orb did h)\ver ; And Tyranny, a monarch proud, In darkness ruled with evil power. The races groaned beneath his chains, And freedom of her hope was shorn ; Amid the nation's woes and pains The hero-patriot was born. A messenger from Heaven he seemed : His soul was pure, his aim was true ; Of highest good he ever dreamed — His mi.^sion was to dare and do. And when Oppression's heavy arm His victims roused to trembling tVars, The patriot came at grief's ahirm And battled through the stormy years. But ere to lields of strife he went. He mounted Wisdom's towering height; And there a prayerful time he spent, Enwrapt in liberty's soft light. Through every conflict, every jar, In council or on battle held, He stood abreast the storm of war, And ne'er to treason's host did yield. And look upon those luring scenes Imprinted on the eras past; The patriot there in glory seems, His worth lives on while ages last. VOICES FUOM TllK CASCADES. Thus ruled in Athens Pericles, The wise, the gifted and the mild; And Eh)quence the world did please, In Cicero her favorite child. Or trace with sad, regretful eye The paths where crimson conquest led; Where Caesar marched with courage high, Or brave Alaric dared to tread. The rude Barbarian, daunted not, To spread war's rage o'er smiling Rome ; To bring destruction's wasting lot To classic shrine and peaceful home. And turn where musing faney strays: Apollo's ear in rapture hung Mid bowei'S where Homer tuned his lays And Virgil's heavenly lyre was strung. Majestic domes bright genius reared ; Art in meridian splendor shone; E'en now to us they are endeared, Though in time's wreck forever gone. But over all the darkness fell ; Of liberty scarce shone one ray; Iron feudalism worked its spell, And genius kept lier tiidden way. But lo ! the night begins to break, And reason gilds the clouds of morn ; The voice of mighty Luther spake And superstition shrinks forlorn. And hark I upon fair Britain's soil, The feudal chains fall from her sons ; To higher deeds the patriot's toil Goes on, and Right her missiion runs. 38 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. And knowledge moves in high career Illuming all the track of time ; A Newton, Milton and Shakspeare Reveal creation's stores sublime. Again upon the forum grand, There swells the patriot's earnest tone; The might of Chatham rules his land, And Burke in grandeur stands alone. The voice of Wilberforce is heard In mercy's plea for the oppressed ; At that proud name our hearts are stirred, A name forever to be blest. On terror's scene now falls m3' glance. Where awful throes dark evils brood ; The cities and the vales of France Are deluged with her noblest blood. And oh ! what carnage strews the fields Where Waterloo's great hosts went down ! The Corsica n in anguish vields To Wellington the victor's crown. Look westward o'er the ocean wave, Where famed Columbia's charms abound, The gift Genoa's hero gave, The fairest r.^alm the earth around. From sea to sea her borders run ; Through teeming vales broad rivers flow ; And glitter in the golden sun, Grand mountains tipped with silver snow. What means that band at Plymouth Rock? Midst gloom and hope they've crossed the sea; They reared upon that sacred spot The standard of the wise and free. VOICES FKOM THE CASCADES. 39 And look to Jamestown's sunny clime Where Smith's strange wanderings begun ; Bless "Old Dominion" through all time, For Washington and Jeiierson. Let wreaths immortal gild their fame Who drove the monarch's power away; Let honor crown the hallowed name Of those who gave this glorious day. Beyond the century's parted years Is heard the din of raging war; Above our anxious hopes and fears, Shines radiantly the Union star. Ijct glory wait the brave who spoke And fought and bled for you and me; Who toiled to lift the galling yoke Of slavery and to set men free. With joyous soul as we survey The path the patriot hath trod, More warndy glows each passing day Our love of countrv, truth and God. Behold this land by valor bought. Mightier than palmiest Rome; Here science, art and daring thought With freedom have their welcome home. And may the echoes of that bell That rang the peal of Liberty, For evermore their music swell O'er mount and glen, o'er isle and sea. E'er may that starry ensign fair That floats in red and white and blue, Its folds to storm and breezes bare And keep us loyal, brave and true. July 4th 1685. 40 - N'OICEH VVA)M THK CASCADES. IN MEMORY OF Y/ASHINGTON. Bright in our country's storied ^'ears, A name divinely great appears; Through troubles (hirk, in peace and war, lie was the nation's guiding star. Scarce yet a man, from home delights He treads tlie Alleghany heights, And marches o'er the ice and snow To stay the dread, invading foe. What pronnse then unclouded shone! His wisdom seemed to ripeness grown ; — Given to make a people free From hnvless rule and tyranin'. Hear ye the roars that rend the skies? See ye the smoky (douds th;it rise From Trciiton, I^rinceton and Yorktown? To hberty they give the ci-own. And as we view eacli stirring scene, Through the long yeai-s that intervene, Shines forth bright as the rising sun. The gh)ry of our Washington. Look on his face so care-worn now ; The victor's, wreath entwines his hi-ow ; Though tried in fields of blond and fire, He's ready for ids land's desire. And hnrk ! his country calls ag:un : "Come forth, to rule thy fellow-men ; Fih)t our youthful ship of state And be our first Chief Magistrate." Serene and tlrin through trying hours, He baffled all assailing poNvers ; A sentinel toi- light he stood, VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 41 His was tiio high, heroic life That soared a hove low party strife; When spake his voice, i^rief felt a halm, And raging storms were hushed in calm. His Farewell Words, how strong and true ! They live with meaning ever new ; The golden precepts there lie gave Th(? Union still can guide and save. The marble shafts reared to his name But feebly speak his deathless fame ; Look o'er this realm so nobly won, Then sing [he praise of Washington. O patriot chief, the freeman's pride. By fair Potomac's silver tide Thy ashes rest, thy worth survives To bless our land and mould our lives. February 22, 1885. 42 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. LINCOLN. 'Twas in the rugged, western wild, Afar down in obscurity, Was born the honest-hearted child, — Reared in the school of poverty. 'Mid dark discouragements he toiled ; In freedom was his deep belief; His deeds^ for right were never foiled, — He died the nation's honored chief. Wise in our country's troubled hour, A faithful pilot at her helm ; All full of gentleness and power, Beloved in earth's remotest realm. His name a beacon light shall be, A living watchword of renown ; That fettered millions might be free, He wears the glorious martyr's crown. IN MEMORIAM. GENERAL ULYSSES S. GRANT. O let a nation's grief Burst forth in tributes high ; The Appomattox chief. The hero, had to die. No more shall that strong hand The nation's sword unsheath : Among the fallen band He wears the martial wreath. When by the traitor's arm Our flag trailed in the dust, He heard war's dire alarm And girded for its trust. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 43 Praise till the earth expires The victories he won ; How raged those hattle fires, Vicksburg and Donelson ! And how the rebel horde Beneath his war-stroke quailed ! His musket and his word For freedom never failed. And from the crimsoned fields The blood-stained flag he bore; Treason disarmed yields And slavery smites no nsore. O never from our souls Let that entreaty cease; Therp evermore it rolls Saying, ''Let us have peace." High on the scroll of fame The g'olden letters run, — Higher than that proud name, The mighty Wellington. Thy worth's immortal stamped, The loyal and brave ; 'Twas "Unconditional," Grant, "Surrender" to the grave. If e'er this land again On Danger's l)rink shall be. O may thy spirit then Save our dear liberty. Faithful warrior, sleep ; Life's battle thou hast won ; The millions o'er thee weep, — In tears we say, "well done." August 8, 1885. 44 VOICES FPvOM THE CASCADES. FELICIA HEMANS. Enchantress of the ocean isle, From o'er Atlantic seas, Thy song comes sweet as wood notes wild, Or an ^Eoli'an breeze. Thy verse has touched with charming grace All themes tlie Muses seek ; Thou eyer in full joy didst trace Stream, glen and mountain peak. The loyeliness of trees and flowers. The light of things divine. The sacredness of house's sweet bowers, Dwell in thy magic line. Truth, Justice, and loved Freedom's blaze, The great of every clime ; The brave and true receive thy praise In stirring hymns sublime. Thy strains have soothed me many hours; They fill my deep desire; And seems that more than mortal powers Live in thy golden lyre. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 45 THE MORNING SCENE. The bright-hued morn dawns in the eastern sky; The shades of night in silence disappear; The morning star now fades its radiant glow, And smiling day in gladness ushers near. In ever}^ recess through wide Nature's bounds, The tranquil airs of summer seem to dwell ; No sound the stillness wakes the landscape o'er, Save where the birdies peal their joyful swell. And yet, while reigns the penccful dawn of day. The leaflets nod and liow'rets gently lend Their sweetest fragrance to tiie morning breeze, With pleasing joys in harmony to blend. Thus to yon verdant mound the way I stroll, Anticipation's fondest hopes to share; And read the lessons in the morning scene, In jeweled letters ever written there. Now from yon rustic cottage in the vale, The smoky wreaths in curling f)aths are borne; And soon the shepherd's voice tiie stillness breaks, The flock his coming greet at early morn. Yet lingering adown the distant hills. The resplendent orb the heaven's o'er diffuse His rays that in gorgeous beauty teem, That paint the fleecy clouds in rosy hues. Now o'er tlie hill tops in his splendor robed. Comes forth the King of Day to charm the scene; All nature wakes glad notes of praise to sing, And e'en the dew-drop chants th' inspiring theme. And winding o'er the meadow's waving green, The plowman seeks his daily task, the field, Where sturdily he toils the livelong day, Inviting earth to give him bounteous yield. 46 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. Years few have fleeteil down the strand of time, Since there the forest trunks their boughs o'erspread, And oft mid cool, refreshing shades was trod, The path that to the singing streamlet led. These passing years, replete witli fruitful toil, Have nobler honors reapM than worldly fame E'er won by sword on tlie bloody battle field, — That puts fair innocence to blushing shame. And who at him shall hurl reviling scorn? Or who his toiling lot can e'er despise? In the harvests garnered by the tiller's hand, The brightest glory of a nation lins. When fading day bids toil and labor cease, Not like the friendless trav'ler must he roam ; But gathered in the fireside's happy throng, He breathes the sacred air of 'diome sweet home." EVENING REFLECTIONS. The cloud-decked sky was rich in sunset glow ; Sweet flowery 0(U)rs eacli soft ze]>hyr filled ; Th' evening breezes yet were wliis})ering low. And forest songsters gently, sweetly trilled. Fair nature wore the sigh of parting day ; How bright and lovely were the woodland scenes! When forth I strolled along the happy way That filled my soul with sweet poetic dreams. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 47 Ay thus I roved where charms the loveliest dwell, Fond recollections from departed days Came o'er my soul, as halmy breezes swell, And cherislied scenes burst o'er fond Memory's gaze. The stately oak whose grand and sturdy boughs Watched o'er my youthful sports full many a day; Tlie summer quiet there in peaceful drowse, I view'd through parted moments far away. Of near de[)artcd friends I fondly dreamed ; How true and lasting were those friendly ties! Tlieir sunny smiles, a vision bright they seemed, Moi-e l>eauteous tlian the tints of glowinsr skies. O'er fantned hopes that long Hfe's pathway lie, My wayward mind a wandering vision cast, Yet pondering well if varied fortune's sigh Would yield sweet treasures like tiie memories past. Though ha})[)y thoughts to Fancy's vision drew, None dearer, sweeter to its embrace came, Tlian those of her f(;r whom my love so true Yields hallowed joys art)und her sacred name. The gentle brook whose fair and silvery hue The breezes kissed beneath the smiling grove, Still softly lulls as when its murmurs knew Our pleasant strolls endeared b\' tender love. Her winning smiles shed o'er those wooing hours Now beam in golden radiance on that shore, Where crystal streams flow 'mid eternal flowers, And where she waits my hand to clasp once more. Thou Hope, sweet fountain of our purest bliss. From whose bright star our dearest prospects gleam. What jo3's can soothe in such a world as this, Like those embalmed in pure affection's stream? 48 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. THE BEGGAR. A weary traveler, frail and grfiy, With tottering step and slow, Along a rude, deserted way, A youth espied him go. His aged mien was sad and drear; Despair dwelt in his eye ; And in the youth was wrought a tear Of tender sympathy. ''Young lad," the stranger faintly said, "My steyjs more feehle grow ; Hast thou for me a mite of bread? My life seems ebbing low. ''To those who dwell in po\'erty, High Heaven bids us give ; To share this W(trld's eold charity, Is sorrow's life to live." His liomeward way the youth betook; Relief lie quickly sought ; Bright changed the stranger's careworn look, When wdiolesome food was brought. Upon the ground with leaves o'erstrewed, He sat and ate his fare ; The boy with deepest pity viewed That haggard forni most bare. "Old man," the anxious lad inquires, 'TIast thou no pleasant home? Is this the lot thy heart desires? Then why a pilgrim roam?" ''0 youth, the query thou woiddst raise Hath touched this aching heart; As o'er ir^y life I cast a gaze, Sad recollections start. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 49 •'I once — to SI e ik a solemn truth — Like you, was young and gay ; Both liealth and fortune blest my youth, And marked a happy way. "But as in years I older grew, Temptation's pleasing hand My service to a monarch drew Whose terror smites our land. '"Within his ranks I whiled away ; Kind warnings ne'er could daunt — Till on me fell in sad array Chill penury and want! ''Around that dear old fireside, Smiled happiness so fair; But dire neglect, with evil pride. Brought misery and despair. ''And oft at midnight's lonely hour, The homeward way I'd wend, Accui-sed by that despotic power That monarch's vice would send. "One night — no ray of starlight shone, Cold blew the wintry air — Came not that voice in gentle tone : 'Dear husband, are you there?' "Kind heaven forbid ! but ah 'tis true ! Low hushed was every breath, — A darling babe and mother, too, Lay cold in silent death ! "And o'er their graves the songsters sing- 'Tis there my loved ones lie. Because I served that wicked King And fled from pity's cry. 50 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. "Fair boy, would'st thou that monarch know? Where'er his army roams, Fall gloomy fates and dismal woe On bright and happy homes. "No worthy honors great and high His weary soldiers bear — A guilty blush and reddening eye, In one low rank they wear. "His palaces the charms of art Witli beauty's wealth adorn ; liut oh ! he makes how many a heart Grief stricken and forlorn ! "Thus by his strong and artful hand From virtue led astrny, A sad and mournful wreck I am And beg from dny to day." MINNIE'S DEATH. The wint'ry winds blow cold, mamma, The night seems lone and drear; And clouds of sadness o'er me dril't While I am lingering here. 'Tis not that you're unkind, mamma. Or that 3'ou're cold to me ; 'Tis not the fear of death that brings My gloom}^ tears so free. Did you see papa's gaze, mamma. When last he left the door? No gentle smile of sympathy His heavy mien came o'er. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 51 He surely knows that I am ill ; How could he thus forget! When his dear Minnie loves him so, And she's his darling yet- How sad his blushing face, mamma, It looked at nie so bold 1 *Tis strange his once v/arm care for us Has grown so light and cold. O did he always thus, mamma, Desert his own dear home? What makes him leave us here each night In sorrow all alone? Must be 'tis that vile King, mamma, Who, I have heard you say, Makes happiest homes a dreary place, And fairest hopes decay ; But can't be his dire cruelty Would do so great a wrong, As keej) my .papa 'way from me Through suffering iiours long. 'Twould be my fondest joy, mamma. If I could see him now, / And press my sinking cheek to his And smooth his fading brow; To tell him that the angels bright My coucii are waiting nigh. To take n'.e on their downy wings To that sweet house on liigh. O dry your tears of grief, mamma, These cares will soon be past, And you'll be with me in that clime \V'here blows no wint'ry blast; Where naughty Kings can never rule, , Nor wring a grieving tear ; Where God from his bright, shining throne Gives nauoht but love and cheer. 52 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. Tell papa that I longed to kiss His tainted lips once mure; Again his dull/lim eye to meet Before my life was o'er; But soon my failing eyes shall close, Fore'er in breathless sleep, — ^tethinks I hear the waters flow In death's dark river deep. Is that his step I hear, mamma? 'Tis near the broken gate; It he'd come nov\' tlie angels good Would little longer wait, That Minnie yet her papa's face Might see before she dies, And beckon him to serve that King Who dwells beyond th(^ skies. The father came at still n)idnight, But hushed was Minnie's breath Her rosy cheek its hue had lost In pale and listless death. THE CLOVER PLANT. Thou art crowned with beauty's blossom ; In the summer days serene, Spreading fragranee o'er the bosom Of the meadow bright and green. Often in the morning hours, Have I walked thy tangles through, Culling the«^ with knots of flowers Glistening with pearly dew. And the mower takes thy beauty But to wither 'neath the sun ; Thinks to slay thee highest duty, For the wint'rv davs will come.. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 53 When snow whitens all the landscape, Garnered safe thou art a joy; To the barn mid flying snow flakes Skips the merry-hearted boy ; Gathers np the hay sweet scented, Deals it to the flocks and herds ; Now his task is done, contented Seems he as the summer birds. Thou dost yield the sturdy farmer Bounteous harvests for his toil; Thou to earth art a redeemer, Making rich the barren soil. Still work out thy blessed mission, Kindly plant of wondrous power; And the earth with wealth shall glisten Flowing fronj thy generous dower. AUTUMN. Sweet Autumn, bright thy changing hues Lie o'er the fading fields ; The earth in bounteous gifts profuse Her plenteous harvest yields. Among the gorgeous painted trees, I hear the leaves astir; But fadeless verdure paints the leaves That cleave the mighty fir. The joyful din of labor runs Through all the busy days; Soon will these golden hours' be gone, The soft and beauteous haze. 64 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. E'en now I seem to hear the rain,- It sings a cheerful song ; For not all sadness nor all pain To rainy (la3's belong ; For at m}' sacred home and hearth, I read my cherished books ; And more than all to me on earth, My dear companion's looks. Long winter nights of cloud and rain, Ye, too, will soon be here ; Adieu bright days, we'll meet again When springtime days appear. ODE TO THE DYING YEAR. 0, dying year, we must now part ; Thou'st been so kind and true, Sad feelings steal around my heart, As the night winds moan adieu. A cycle to eternity Has passed forevermore ; A page once hid in mystery, Now spreads njine eyes before. And as I read that checkered leaf, Lost moments come like dreams ; I see the prints of joy and grief Cast o'er those varied scenes. Around me all those visions blend — Too vividly T see The hour when coldness in a friend Chilled friendship's blood in me. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 55 Then memory tells with sweet delight The time when kindness wove A heart to mine — it seemed a light To warm the pidse of love. How many dear and lovely ones Greet not the hudding year; They feel the light of hlessed suns Beyond this changing sphei'e. And stern adversity has frowned On nation, palace, cot ; And glorious triumphs all have crowned To bless our worldly lot. Let not the favored ones forget The haunts where misery dwells; The unseen tear, the dark regret. No fleeting year dispels. And looking o'er our lovely land, In nature's wealth com|)lete, I see fair Freedom stretch her hand To every far retreat. And may her firm but gentle laws Spread over land and sea. Till all mankind shall know her cause And feel no tyranny. Farewell, old year, deep thanks to thee. For lessons thou hast taught ; In duty's path may they lead me To labor as I ought. Still may our lives and thoughts each year T(^ higher aims arise, Till Right shall rule and Truth appear The fairest, noblest prize. 56 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. TO N. B. C. ON HIS TWENTY-EIGHTH BIRTHDAY How still and fast Time wings us on ! The mon'jents. days and yoars, Ere at onr threshold they are gone. Bearing our smiles and tears. Life's drama runs through changing scenes; How man}^ days are dark ! An hour of gladness intervenes, Lit hy Hope's radiant spark. As rolls each speeding year around. The silent past we view ; At some fond thought or sacred sound, Youth's fancies hloom anew. Then with a longing, anxious eye, The future we survey. Trying to search the fates that lie 'Long that mysterious way. But prophets wise we never are ; Wisely are mortals hidden By Fate to know not things afar, In years unfathomed hidden. Thus future-hlind we sail life's sea. With joy and grief our doom ; May fortune ever smile on thee, Thy loved ones and thy home. April 2, 1885. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. 57 TO MRS. A. W. T. ON HER MARRIAGE. The blithesome summer days are gone, And autumn hues bedeck the tields; Thy summer days have just be^un, And ripened hope its blessing yiehis. The days of waiting are no more; No longer seems the distance dim ; Th}' soul its transi)orts can outpour, — Thy hope, thy joy, are all for him. Rich blessings follow him and thee; From heart to heart may love e'er flow, Pure, unchanging and as free. As streams that come from founts of snow. A parent's, l)n)ther''s, sister's lo\'e Shall yet to thee with fondness cling; To them thy thoughts will often rove, And back sweet, cherished menjories bring. And we shall miss thy kindly face; Thy old lion^e know a vacant chair; But in our hearts thy wonted place Wiirkeep thy memory living there. And he whose manhood wooed and won Thee, as affection's tide arose, Through joy and grief sliall love thee on, And cheer thee till life's burdens close. A kind farewell we give to thee ; Ah ! would some better tribute given ; Th}' wedded life, e'er may it be Still upward to the gates of Heaven. ' September 3, 1885. 58 VOICES FROM THE CASCADKS. THE VOICE OF LOYE. Ye, whom the woods and hills yield purest joys, Who love to watch the merry chase of streams O'er rocks, and rove sequestered wilds among, ^V'ith me go to a loved abode, and share The pleasures naught can give save Nature's voice And liopeful love. There, set from l)oisterous din a])ari, the glen With gentle slopes around and (piiet air. Its beauteous smile displays. On either side The chattering brook, rise trees ascending high, Whose reverend forms hold solenin rule o'er all. The leafy boughs outspread, deep shadows throw. And veil the peaceful dell with somber hues. There forest princ(-s, too, their rncr iiave run, And Time's dissolving liand its work betrays. All o'er these fallen patriarchs has crept, As if reluctant yet to see the sires Of sylvan pride dead — without s])ai-k of life, The silent tread of Nature, and embalmed These moidderings forms in shrouds of verdant moss. Near by a forest monarch lying low, Away the noisy brook — ami steps but few — A mossy mound inviting to behold It's home has made. A pillow soft it seems — Enchanting 'twould be to a weary one With tiresome step and dusty brow. E'en memory tells of loitering moments 'round These shaded haunts, when l)y the moss-draped mound Reclined I'd lay, deep fixed in pensive thought Of works frou] God's own hand, so bright and fair. Yet brighter far seemed that deep love that bound My soul with hers to whom my vows w(?re paid I But far from her fond smile ni}' lot It was to be. Thoughts of her rose like breezes soft ; And when to Fancy's view came her pure heart, The leaves and cliffs did shine with mellower hues And e'eu the waters murmured sweeter sounds. VOinES FROM THE CASCADES. 59 Oh ! many an honr wa.s passed these wilds within, P'ore'er endeared by happy talks wilh brook, Trees and rocks — hallowed more by goodly dreams Of her I claimed mine own. But now these scenes charm not through faith's clear eye. My smiles they win not all alone, but hers With whom my life is sweet Together oft The solitudes amidst, we contemplate The gorgeous rays of splendor shed o'er all God's handiwork, so wondrous to survey ! Tliat radiant hope of expectation s bright A blest r(>ality now is, and marks The hours of chiingcful earth with happiness. Still m;\y creation fair its })0W'er lend Our hearts to wed in perfect sympathy. With rapturous eye as one, we muse by stream, 'Mid flowers and forests, breathing free The inspiring joys that from them flow, While e'er from mountain, vale, and sea come forth The gentle whispers of eternal love. 60 VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. YEARS AGO. The day is spent, tlie dnrkness nigli, The fire gleams hright upon the wall; And from the crowded years gone b}^ The olden times I now recall. Come, wife, sit down, your toil forego, And let's look back on youthful scenes, Imprinted in the long ago, When you and I were in our teens. You know the farms the old folks owned Were side by side, and so lived we. Till near to twenty you had j?rown. And I was over twenty-three. On many a bright and joyous day I've seen you strolling 'mong the flowers, Culling a lovely, rich bouquet — Ah ! were not those deliglitful hours? We went to school the same old road, And though I was but yet a boy. Your books I carried and your load Was lightened to my deepest joy. We talked our lessons o'er and o'er, (Though love was kindling in me tlien) ; Tom Jones had won the ])rize before, — We wondered if he next would win. The school went on and so did we ; And oftentimes when at my desk, I'd glance across the room to see If you were busy at your task. But things became so after while, I longed to take a moment's rest, And dart at you a genial smile, — And you smiled back — at least I guesscvd. The teacher held a rigid rule ; He made the little urchins frown ; — Remember you that spelling school? I missed a word, you spelled me down. VOICES FROM THE CASCADES. ()1 You bliislied with pride and I willi shame, — At least so all our schoolmates thought For spelling well I had a name, But now for once I had been caught. liut truly cared I not a whit ; You were the heroine you know ; And Tom Jones on tiie strength of it Thought home with 3'ou he'd surely go. You "mittened" him — an act subhujc — And we walked homeward side by side; I must confess that from that time You were \uy hope, my jo}', my pride. And love my entire frame did rule, And you were in my every thought; You caught me at the spelling school, But now you in my love was caught. And so we wooed and courted on, Oft o'er the meadows did we stray ; — How slowly came the hour in June That marked our happ}' wedding day ! And can we e'er forget that scene? The summer prime its beauty shed ; The woods were clad in brightest green, — Yea, Heaven blest the day we wed. Though time and distance dim the fields In wooing days we wandered o'er, Our wedded life glides on and yields A higher bliss than e'er before. 62 VOICES FROxM THE CASCADES. THE LAND OF REST. Ho ! ye socldoned hearts and wean', Hard by sorrow'? hand oppressed, Though this world seem dark and dreary, There's a hind of peaceful rest ; Where no stormy clouds e'er gather O'er the bright and radiant sky ; Where the tear of sadness never Trickles from the downcast eye. When misfortune's chilling breezes Drift our hopes to dismal flight, How the thought sweet joy awakens, — "There's a Land of pure delight." Hath a cherished friend departed, Or a loved one gone before? Look above, be not sad hearted, — Death shall enter nevermore. If a lover, wooed in gladness. To his vow hath proved untrue, Let the rays of Heaven's brightness Dry thy tears as morning dew. Disappointment's heavy burden Often chains our hearts to grief; But the shining hope of Heaven Lends a pure and sweet relief. In whatever path you labor Trials grave beset the way ; From thy calling do not waver, Brighter dawns the coming day. VOICES FKOM THE CASCADES. 63 WE KNOW NOT. We know not all this world contains ; Its realms are many, broad and deep ; Beyond our ken there yet remain Things mortal vision cannot sweep. We know not all the treasures great Lost in the depths of dark decay ; The glories won in gorgeous state,— Like meteors blazed and died away. We know not mid this worldly jar, The voice that bids ambition rise; Each fellow views his luring star And fights unheeded for the prize. We canngt turn the hidden page And read tlie fate to each assigned ; We cannot count the coming age With all its triumphs of the mind. We know not all the bitter grief * That comes from ruined hope and trust ; We know not when life's pulse so brief May leave this frame to mouldering dust. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS nmil 018 597 454 6l