^^i^:m^^Mm'r IW* <§> ^ • • I "» ^ > ..." ^. <^^ -•.'• A<^^ ^.■i* * W 9 ^oV^ 1^ <^ • / 1 0^ ; ^^. , aV «5> " • « * .^^^"^^^^ .• .♦^"^. <* *ji 1* ..♦ m^4i'^ %^* .^■^"i; °^ 9 I ■» A^^yCi^Zl'^yP^^^^iSi-^ JV|ountain JVlelodies BY CY WARMAN ©x©®^^ ( SOLD ON TRAINS AND AT NEWS STANDS. SINGLE COPIES, 50c PER DOZEN, $3.00 MAIL ORDERS TO CY WARMAN, DENVER, COLO. \ >. \*l:' COPYRIGHTED BY CY WARMAN DENVER, COLO. PI^EFAGB. The Author offers no apology to the Public for the publication of these rhymes. they were inspired largely by nature and nature's god. If you have a KICK COMING, KICK HIGHER. THE AUTHOR. INDEX. PAGE Where the Flowers Talk - - - 7 The Columbine - . - - 8 Adown the Dusky Dell _ _ _ 9 Creede - - - - - 10 This Can't Be Hell - - - - 11 Agnes, I Ivove You - - - 12 Towns of the Mountains - - - 13 Broken Vows - - - - 15 I Would Know My Native Land - - 16 A Colorado Girl - - - - 18 Oleo and Butter - - - - 19 Where Women Don't Go - - 20 The Canon of the Grand - - - 22 Summer's Gone . _ _ _ 23 Where the Wild Flowers Catch the Dew - 24 Gentle Annie - - - - 25 When Other Lips - - - - 26 From Mountain to Meadow - - 27 Sangre de Christo - - ... 28 Love Among the Mountains - - 29 Sunset on Salt Lake - - - - 30 Loch Ivanhoe _ _ . . ^i At Manitou - . . _ _ 32 INDEX. V The Garb of the Hills ... 33 The Thunder Bird .... 34 The Amethyst Vein ... 35 The Nellie Bly .... 36 To the Golden Gate _ . _ 38 'Mid the Mountains • - - - - 40 It Beats Hell . . . . 41 There is No Death - - - - 42 Her Hand in Mine ... 43 Sunlight - . - - . 44 Charity . . . _ . 45 Sic Transit Glori Mundi - - - 46 Bad on the Bird . . _ . 47 The Roses are Gone - . - . 48 Winter - . . . . 49 If I Had You - .... 50 Be Better to God - - - - 51 Woman's Love and Man's Love - - 52 Here Below .... 53 This Life is Good - - - - 54 Asleep with the Roses ... 55 The Whippoorwill - - - - 56 At the Tabor .... 57 The Miner's Lament - - - - 58 Silver Stained - _ . _ 60 We Ain't Had No Spring - - - 61 A Woman and Her Tears - - 62 The Way I Went .... 63 Mountain Melodies. Where the Flowers Talk. I want to go where the flowers blow On the mountains high and hoary ; Where the summer winds shake the patient pines And the sun in its golden glory, Falls o'er the stream where the ripples gleam ; Where the shores are shoal and sandy. I want to walk where the flowers talk On the banks of the Rio Grande. I love the stills in the running rills — The willowy rills half hidden That lie in the lap of the gentle hills — In the lap of the hills unchidden. I love the leas where the honey bees Are making sweets from the clover, And when I walk where the flowers talk I just feel good all over. MOUNTAIN MEI.ODIES. The Columbine. Sweet Marie, here's a columbine, The summer can surely spare it. See ! Here's a delicate twig to twine, To braid in this beautiful hair of thine. Sweet Marie, here's a columbine — Take it, my queen, and wear it ! Waved by the wind in the summer time ; Wet by the summer showers ; Blown in the balm of this beautiful clime, Over our heads where the hills are rime ; Waved by the winds in the summer time — Fairest of forest flowers. For I have brought you this boutonniere, Plucked from the hills above you, To weave in the waves of your beautiful hair, Or wear in your breast where the love songs are. I have brought you this boutonniere — Take it, because I love you. MOUNTAIN MEI^ODIES. Adown the Dusky Dell, Behind the mossy mountain tip Sinks the setting sun, Aslant the shade the swallows dip, The summer day is done. The busy brook sings softly, Like the tinkling of a bell, And still and gray the shadows lay Adown the dusky dell. Across the silent summit steals The pale and patient moon. And up the vale and vegas comes • The balmy breath of June. Fraught with the sighs of summer, Now the softly gentle breeze, With tender touch has come to comb The tresses of the trees. Amid these mighty mountains With their heaven-touching towers, I stand and view with wonderment This grand old world of ours ; Whose hoary hills for ages Have the stubborn storms withstood, I feel my insignificance. And murmur, God is good. lO MOUNTAIN MEIvODIES. Creede. Here's a land where all are equal — Of liigli or lowly birth — A land where men make millions, Dug from the dreary earth. Here the meek and mild-eyed burro On mineral mountains feed — It's day all day, in the day-time, And there is no night in Creede. The cliffs are solid silver, With wond'rous wealth untold ; And the beds of running rivers Are. lined with glittering gold. While the world is filled with sorrow, And hearts must break and bleed — It's day all day, in the day-time. And there is no night in Creede. MOUNTAIN MEI/ODIES. II This Can't Be Hell, The writer of a recent book Makes me believe I dwell In what in brighter worlds they'd look Upon as perfect hell. We've lived before, he doth depose, When life again was given, The wicked all came here and those Quite good have gone to heaven. It may be so ; for I have seen This life so full of gloom ; I've almost sighed to rest me in The cold and silent tomb. And I have thought, in those dark days- I've been so ill at ease. And suffered in so many ways — This surely were hades. But when the sun comes out again And bathes the earth in gold. And song birds warble in the glen And nature, to unfold Her wond'rous beauty beckons m^ Down the bedaisyed dell ; In nature's open arms I see Much more of heaven then hell. 12 MOUNTAIN MEI.ODIES. Agnes, I Love You ! I stooped and wrote upon the sand Along the shore, with trembling hand, These words that she might understand: Agnes, I love you ! The surging sea got full one day. And came ashore and washed away These words that near the waters lay — Agnes, I love you I I climbed upon a mountain high. Plucked up a tree, wrote on the sky. Above the waters, high and dry, Agnes, I love you ! I'd like to see some sloppy sea, Said I, slide up this canopy And monkey with my motto . See ! Agnes, I love you ! MOUNTAIN MEI^ODIES. I3 Towns of the Mountains. When Uncompahgre's vale I view, From mountain's high and hoary, I seem to dream love's dream anew, And hear the old, old story. Chipeta, blest queen ot my breast, When here mine eyes first saw you, The Poncho perfumed wind carest Your sun-kist Wahatoya. O'er Alamosa hills we strolled Whose shadows seemed to beg us Pause where gentle Lomas rolled Above the Verdi Vegas. The soft winds shook the arboles, And song birds in La Jara Made music dulce on the breeze O'er anxious to Cuchara. Oft in these Cimarron ranges grand. The walks of Escalante, Have I caressed your sun-browned hand With kisses, caliente. Dear, good alcalde, bring her back, No Montes are Bonita, O'er whose rough Piedras there's no track Made by my lost Chipeta. 14 MOUNTAIN MELODIES. Oh, take me to Thee, Manitou, My Santa Fe will guide me. And some day I shall be with you, And walk with her beside me Upon that blest Hermosa shore, So sunny and florida. Mine anima looks up once more, To seek the soul's Salida. MOUNTAIN MEI^ODIES. I5 Broken Vows. What time these miles must lay between My little love and I, And dreary days must intervene E'er we may meet, Oh, my ! — What time I take to kneel and pray As only Christians can ; Right solemnly I sigh and say : "I'll be a better man." But when my love's elastic lips Are clinging close to mine, And thrill me to my finger tips Like I've been drunk with wine, These olden vows are irksome then And seem so slender, too ; I break them, but like all good men I make some more anew. l6 MOaNTAIN MEIvODIES. I Would Know My Native Land, There are those who praise the poet who can soar in starry spheres, And can mould his mystic phrases from the wrecks of other years. I would have my inspiration fresh from nature's open hand; I would sing a simple sonnet that a child can understand. There are those who seek in other climes the joys they might have known Mid the mountains and the meadows of the land they call their own. I would find the shady canons, where at night the gentle dew Comes to kiss the rose and heliotrope, when stars are all in view. I would walk the verdant valley, where the salt waves wash the feet Of the Wasatch, gazing upward where the sky and moun- tains meet. Filled with awe and admiration I would kneel upon the strand. And thank heaven for this picture even I can understand. MOUNTAIN MEIyODIES. VJ I would stand amid these mountains with their hueless caps of snow, Looking down the distant valley, stretching far away below; And with reverential rapture, thank my Maker for this grand, Peerless, priceless panorama that a child can understand. l8 MOUNTAIN MEI^ODIES. A Colorado Girl. She's the shining solid silver From humanity's rough ore ; She's the star that beams above us out of reach ; She's the lasting love-lit lighthouse That illumes life's lonely shore ; She's the precious pearl the tide leaves on the beach. She's the ever-paying pay-streak In the fissure of the heart ; She's the summer rose that scents the silent gloom ; She's the wondrous work of nature, I^ike the soul, our better part ; She's our sunlight from the cradle to the tomb. MOUNTAIN MELODIES. 1 9 Oleo and Butter. The Oleomargarine of life Is the joys that fade and fleet and flutter Away ; that strew our paths with strife ; But the joy that is best for you and me Is the hint of a hope of a bliss to be That takes us from time to eternity, Ah, that is our life's good butter. 20 MOUNTAIN MEIyODIES. Where Women Don't Go, The flowers that bloom in the springtime, And make the dull world seem so gay, Have never a thought in the meantime That bloom bringeth blight and decay. The glad bird that sings by the river, Smiling up at the blue opal sky, Never dreams in its joy that the river Of Song has adjudged it to die. The brooklet that babbles and blushes, And makes the green glen glad with glee, Knoweth not that it wilfully rushes To the silent sad shores of the sea. But man, while in youth's happy morning, When the world seems so sunny and bright. In the song of each bird hears a warning, And the brooklets are whispering " Night." For time follows closely behind him, And hurries him half out of breath, And the gathering gloaming will find him In the valley and shadow of death. MOUNTAIN MELODIES. 21 Oh, why can't we be like the flowers That bloom in the forest so fair, That live through the sweet summer hours, With never a sorrow or care ? Of course, we have heard the old story, That down in the dim vista of years A woman took gladness and glory And sold it for sorrow and tears. That Eden's fair blossoms were blighted By the dread serpent Satan's vile breath ; That 'twas there that the words were indicted "The wages of sin shall be death." But if woman has brought all this sorrow, And filled this wide world full of woe, I would not exchange it to-morrow For a heaven where women don't go. 22 MOUNTAIN MEI.ODIKS. The Canon of the Grand. I'm going to paint a picture with a pencil of my own ; I shall have no hand to help me; I shall paint it all alone. Oft I fancy it before me, and my hopeful heart grows faint, As I contemplate the grandeur of the picture I would paint. When I rhyme about the river, the laughing, limpid stream, Whose ripples seem to shiver, as they glide and glow and gleam; Of the waves that beat the boulders that are strewn upon the strand. You will recognize the river in the Canon of the Grand. When I write about the mountains, with their heads so high and hoar. Of the cliffs and craggy canons, where the waters rush and roar ; When I speak about the walls that rise so high on either hand, You will recognize the rockwork in the Canon of the Grand. God was good to make the mountains, the valleys and the hills, To put the rose upon the cactus, the ripple on the rills; But if I had all the words of all the worlds at my com- mand I couldn't paint a picture of the Canon of the Grand. MOUNTAIN MEI.ODIES. 23 Summer's Gone, Summer's gone. Ah, soon the sea Will miss my summer love and me. The soft sea- waves that used to float Around her form and kiss her throat Will sigh and seek the shore, and then Flow back into the gulf again. The summer's gone. Summer's gone. The robin's trill Will soon be hushed, and o'er the hill The aspen tree, in tints of gold, Will shiver in the coming cold ; But when we part, how sweet 'twill be To know that she's in love with me, Tho' summer's gone. 24 MOUNTAIN MEI.ODIES. Where the Wild Flowers Catch the Dew. I have stood beside the ocean; I have walked upon the beach, Where the shells and shiny seaweeds strew the strand ; "Where a sense of awe and wonderment Bereft me of my speech, As I watched the mighty murmurer expand. I have felt the same weird awfulness More strangly wild and sweet, "When clinging to the cliff with foot and hand ; I have looked down in the Royal Gorge At the iron horse so fleet, That was dashing down the Denver & Rio Grande. I love the crags and canons, The laughing, rippling rill, And the Colorado sky, so bright and blue ; "Where the mountains in the moonlight Stand motionless and still — "Where the heliotrope and hop vines catch the dew. I love the little flowers, For they tell us o'er and o'er. That there's hope for those who're good, beyond the grave. I should like to find their fragrance 'Mong the seaweeds on the shore, And their language in the music of the wave. MOUNTAIN MEI.ODIES. 25 Gentle Annie. Now the restless hand of nature Reaches out to shift the scene, And the brooks begin to warble in the dell ; And the waking fields are fluflfy And the meadow lands are green, And the tassles on the trees begin to swell. Now the young man finds his fancy Turning tow'rd the things of time, And the miner's lightly turning tow'rd the trail; And when we would be prosy We are drifting into rhyme — It is springtime, gentle Annie, in the vale. Winter now no longer lingers In the love-lit lap of spring; See, the honey bees are humming in the air; There's a gleam of growing gladness 'Bout the fields and everything, And a hidden hint of summer everywhere. Now the naked hills are hidden 'Neath a garb of gaudy hue, And the tramps are growing restless in the jail; All the woodland melts in melody And everything is new. It is springtime, gentle Annie, in the vale. 26 MOUNTAIN MELODIES. When Other Lips. When other lips their love shall own, The* other lips may lie ; Say that thou art my love alone. And wink the other eye. And when the minister shall stand — Make both of us just me, We'll step aboard " The Overland " And go and find the sea. MOUNTAIN MEIvODIES. 7.^ From Mountain to Meadow. When God had reared the rugged walls 'Round Utah's verdi vales; Then man came on his mission and He laid two shining rails, O'er which, in perfect palace cars, Humanity is whirled At sixty miles an hour through This wonder of the world. From frozen frigid mountains, with Their polished peaks of snow, To fields of waving golden grain And meadow lands below, Through gardens in whose presence even Paradise would pale. At sixty miles an hour we Are whirled along the rail. 28 MOUNTAIN MEIvODIES. Sangre de Christo. Sangre de Christo, let me trace The beauties of thy furrowed face, While poncha-perfumed summer breeze Makes music in thine arboles ; And, as I look, thine every peak To me, in silence, seems to speak : Sangre — the blood that flowed so free ; Christo — the Christ on Calvary. Sangre de Christo, bright monte vista, Thy cloud-piercing peaks shall my monument be ! When I am sleeping where thy shades are creeping, Sangre de Christo, wilt thou shelter me ? I see upon thy riven side Great rifts through the rivers flow ; And they tell, too, how Jesus died, As down to seek the sea they go ; And through the verdant vale they sing The praises of the risen king : Sangre — the blood that flowed so free ; Christo— the Christ on Calvary. MOUNTAIN MEIvODlES. 29 Love Among the Mountains. In a sequestered spot my love and I, Hand clasped in hand, stood dreaming love's sweet dream, Watched from the cragy cliff the eagle fly, And heard the far off murmur of the stream. Ah ! Happy soul in solitude that sips From this grand cup of nature sent from heaven — *' But I," said I, "from your red rosy lips, Quaff sweetest sweets by God or nature given. "Hush, Hush!" she said, and dropped her dusky head, " Who knows what eyes are turned upon us here?" "The angels see, and say not that it's wrong," I said, And from her drooping lashes kissed a tear. 30 MOUNTAIN MEI.ODIES. Sunset on Salt Lake. With awe I watch the sun go down Across the great Salt Lake ; The mountains don their golden crown, The soaring seagulls circle 'round, The gentle billows break. And when I scan what's made for man, To make his heart grow glad, With wonderment my heart I hush ; I feel the flush of shame's hot blush, Because my soul is sad. MOUNTAIN MELrODIES. 3I Loch Ivanhoe. Up near the mountain's craggy crest, The mighty moguls strong and proud — The snow-drifts beating 'gainst their breast- With pointed pilots pierce the cloud. High mountains seeming little hills Bmboss the spreading plain below, And rivers look like laughing rills As down the distant vale they flow. Here in a weird cold wintry grave. Wrapped in a marble shroud of snow, With not a ripple, not a wave, Calml)^ sleeps Loch Ivanhoe. But with the coming of the spring The little flowers will bud and blow And gladsome songs the birds will sing, Along the banks of Ivanhoe. 32 MOUNTAIN MEIvODIES. At Manitou, A dreamy hush has settled o'er the vale ; Pike's lofty peak shuts out the sunset's ray ; In robe de nuit I tremble and turn pale, My mirror tells me I am growing gray. I must not sit with idle, empty hands ; I'm still quite young ; there's much that I can do ; I will away, e'en tho' the season wanes ; I'll go and make a mash at Manitou. MOUNTAIN MELODIES. 33 The Garb of the Hills. Go visit the hills in the spring-time, When the little buds burst on the trees, And the perfume of pinon and wild flowers Is borne on the breath of the breeze ; When the rivulets leap from the snowlands. As down toward the valley they sing, To gladden the rose-laden low-lands — Go visit the hills in the spring ! And then, when the summer is over, And the dead leaves are strewn o'er the land ; When the blossoms have dropped from the clover, A garment more gorgeous and grand Is worn by the hills. True, the verdure, The green and the freshness of spring Have changed — the flowers have faded — The song-birds are ceasing to sing. But look ! in the morn, when the sunlight First flashes its rays o'er the range, Ever changing anon till the wan light Of evening is on — note each change — Blends the fire and flame of the oak tree With the gold of the aspen so tall ; All the radiant rays of the rainbow Are worn by the hills in the fall. 34 MOUNTAIN MEI.ODIES. The Thunder Bird Wa-Ka-Ta and his Lauuna Stood at twilight by the trail. They had come to see the "Thunder Bird" That bends athwart the vale. When at last a light shone o'er them, Through the drab and dewy dawn ; With a crash it flashed before them, And the "Thunder Bird" was gone. 'Twas the U. P.'s famous flyer, That these frightened people saw ; Sending forth a flood of fire O'er the chieftain and the squaw. Now each night these patient people Watch beneath the starry sky, Till the dawning of the morning, When the "Thunder Bird" goes by. MOUNTAIN MELODIES. 35 The Amethyst Vein, The sun o'er the summit is bringing Chilled roses to life on the lea ; The rivers are laughing and singing, And slipping away tow'rd the sea. The winds in the cedars are sighing, Their summer songs rhyme with the rills ; The miners are patiently trying The traces that hide in the hills. The tremulous tramways are creaking 'Neath the weight of each silvery train ; The men in the mountain are seeking The source of the Amethyst vein. 36 MOUNTAIN MEIvODIES. The Nellie BIy. A maiden, to Chicago bound, Cried, " Bissell, do not tarry, "And I'll give thee a golden crown " To fly me o'er the prairie ! " "And who be ye this trip would try, "And who's his jags, the flunkey?" " Oh, I'm the girdler, Nellie Ely, "And this, my Indian monkey." "I'll send a message, if you'll go." "Ah, no ! " he cried, " don't wire ; " The telegraph is far too slow ; "Just step aboard the flyer." Then looking in her eyes of brown, "I go, my queen, all hunky, "But 'tis not for your golden crown, " Nor is it for your monkey. " But see well to thy wardrobe, lass ; "There'll be some lightning changes "From California's field of grass " To Raton's rocky ranges ; "From Glorietta's polished peaks "To the warm Arkansas valley. "We'll do in days what once took weeks.'* "I understand," said Nellie. MOUNTAIN MEIyODIES. 37 Then, o'er the track, the special sped, And o'er the wire the warning ; The mile-posts from her pathway fled, L/ike dewdrops in the morning ; Across the hill and down the dell, Past station after station ; The muffled music of the bell Gave voice to each vibration. Swift speeds the steed of steel and steam, And where the road lies level The train sweeps onward like a dream, Past palace and past hovel. And o'er the prairie, cold and gray, There falls a flood of fire. While orders flash for miles away : "Take siding for the flyer." The engine seems to fairly float, Her iron sinews quiver. While swift, beneath her throbbing throat, The rails rush like a river. Upon the seat the engineer. Who knows her speed and power, Sits silently without a fear At sixty miles an hour. 38 MOUNTAIN MEIvODIES. To the Golden Gate. "Mr. Gould," said Mr. Manvel, As they sat 'round the hearth, "The Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe is the longest road on earth." Said Mr. Gould to Manvel, "Keep your eye on me, Lest I might tie your Nellie Bly To the tail of my U. P." "Mr. Gould," said Mr. Manvel, "You'll never see that day; You'll never see the great U. P. Absorb the Santa Fe." "Mr. Perkins," said Mr. JefFery, "I'll tell you what I'll do; I'll give the handjof the Rio Grande To the great C. B. & Q. "Mr. JefFery," said Mr. Perkins, As o'er the track they whirled, "Your little line will then make mine 'The Scenic Route of the World.' " MOUNTAIN MELODIES. 39 "Mr. Jeffery," said Mr. Palmer, "Give me 3'our other hand; I'll break away from the Santa Fe And flirt with the Rio Grande." Said Huntington to Palmer, "The Scenic Route is great; Now all join hands with the Rio Grande And dance to the Golden Gate." 40 MOUNTAIN MEI.ODIES. Mid the Mountains. There's a charm about the mountains That you never can forget, If you linger in their shadows for a day ; And you'll find your troubled bosom Filled with sorrow and regret When the time has come to take yourself away. When you seem to' sigh for sugar In the coffee of your life ; And grief down in your pathway seems to swoop ; Just go down to the depot With your sweetheart or your wife, And take a little turn around the " Loop," MOUNTAIN MElvODIES. 4I It Beats Hell. Some people seem never to tire Of telling the world what they know About the great gulf filled with fire, That burns in the bad world below. They seem to forget there's a heaven With sun-lands and soft summer seas — That great goal for which we have striven- They love so to harp on hades. To the child the sweet voice of a mother Means more than the chastening rod ; Preach less of the ills of the other And more of the goodness of God. I'd rather be drawn than be driven To the land where the good only dwell ; Then let us preach more about heaven, Because it is better than hell. 42 MOUNTAIN MEIyODIES. There !s No Death, There is no death ! The flowers bloom ; Their sweet perfume Floats o'er the night — The hills are white. The summer birds have sped away, The summer days are dead, they say, But when the spring comes back the wren Sings sweet, the flowers bloom again. There is no death ! We fall asleep And wake to weep. Youth's happy springtime wears away With voices weak, our hair grows gray, But often that last sleep, ah then. We know that man must live again. There is no death. MOUNTAIN MEIvODIKS. 43 Her Hand in Mine. Maud and I sat playing poker While the rest enjoyed the dance ; Every time I held the joker Cupid shied his little lance. "George," said Maud, "I'd like to bet you ; I've a better hand than thee." "Good," I said, " 'f I win I'll get you ; If you win, then you'll get me." "Cards," said Maud, and through the laces Dimly shone her form divine. "Maud," I said, "I've got four aces — Put your little hand in mine." 44 MOUNTAIN MEI.ODIBS. Sunlight. With soft caress her hand I press, While to her fair face rushes A fiery flood of hot heart's blood That bursts and blooms in blushes. Her eyes divine upon me shine — With trembling tones I tell her That she illumes this life of mine, Ivike sunlight in a cellar. MOUNTAIN MEIvODIES. 45 Charity. Not alone those in the palace From the cold and hunger free — Not alone those in the hovel Are in need of charity. Shake the highways and the fly ways, Go and seek the slums of sin, That abound along the by-ways ; Knock, and when they let you in. Stoop and lift your fallen sister, Once as spotless as the snow. Tell her how the Lord has missed her, From the vineyard here below. Bid her go and smell the roses That are blooming on the bluff, Bre the life of sorrow closes. Lift the fallen— that's the stuff. 46 MOUNTAIN MEIvODIES. Sic Transit Gloria Mundi, A red rose grew by the garden gate, And sweetly scented the silent gloom, When the city slept — when the hour was late, The night wind wafted its pure perfume Up to my window, and o'er my bed, Till I was in love with the rose so red. But 1 think now, perhaps it's wrong To love these things that only bide A few brief days, with a love so strong ; For folding its petals the red rose died ; And then I sorrowed and sighed and said "Life is lonely, my rose is dead." And then ere long another rose Bloomed in life's way — a human flower ; And it brought to me such sweet repose. And held me hard with a hidden power, And soothed my soul that was worn with care. Till I was in love with the rose so rare. And that fair flower that I loved so long. With a love that was never satisfied — That I loved with a love so strangely strong — Folded its soft white hands and died ; Again I sorrowed and sighed and said : "Ivife is lonely, my love is dead." MOUNTAIN MEI/ODIES. 47 Bad on the Bird. A rash little robin sailed over the sea, And he lit on a tree-twig and gazing at me, He softly and silently folded his wing And said, in a whisper, "I came here to sing." "You pose as a poet," the little bird said. "Then why don't you warble and wake the dead Fields and flowers that slumber. Warble and bring The lilies to life again. Why don't you sing? " I looked at the snow-drift that lingered around The fences and trees, where the frost in the ground Seemed to keep it from melting and I saw not a thing, Save the bird that gave any assurance of spring. I was just about telling the bird what a joke It would be if the spring didn't come, when there broke O'er the valley a storm, and the elements played Hail on his plume till his feathers were frayed. (j.8 MOUNTAIN MEIvODlES. The Roses Are Gone. The roses are gone from the gardens : The meadows are barren and brown ; The dry withered leaves from the shade trees Are drifting and eddying down In my pathway ; the mountains are hoary, There's nothing that speaks of the spring. The summer is gone with its glory, The birds are too saddened to sing. And how like our lives are the seasons — The bright days of childhood the spring ; The youth is the rose-scented summer ; The sear days of autumn should bring Contentment ; they should not be dreary, Tho' our cheeks have forgotten to glow. The winter brings rest for the weary And how like a shroud is the snow ! MOUNTAIN MELODIES. 49 Winter. 'Tis winter now ; the frozen hills Are slumbering in robes of w^hite, The wind from out the woodlands chills My blood, and silently at night The pale, cold moon comes out to creep Across the vale, where roses sleep. How sweet to know that time will bring Fresh flowers. That the sleeping rose Will quicken with the touch of spring, And waking from its long repose Will bloom again, and all the earth Be filled with merriment and mirth. 50 MOUNTAIN MELODIES. If I Had You If I had you, at Christmas time, When other men with able arms Caress their holdings ; I would climb The Christmas-tree — and all the charms And gifts that on its branches grew Lay at your feet— if I had you. If I had you when twilight's shade Casts ghostly shadows o'er the vale. When sunset's gold begins to fade And little stars shine dim and pale ; I know so many things I'd do In twilight's shade — if I had you. MOUNTAIN MEI.ODIES. 5 1 Be Better to God. At the back of the town There's a gray granite wall Illumed by electrical light ; So grand and majestical, Towering and tall, Reaching far away into the night. And the evergreen arboles Up near the crest, When the moon in her heavenly trail, Sweeps swiftly and silently Out toward the west, Through shadows down over the vale. The beauties of nature vSo dazzling by day, When the, sun sinks away o'er the hill, Lose none of their grandeur — They fade not away — But multiplied stay with us still. Just think of the good things That heaven has sent. And now as like pilgrims we plod Adown toward the valley. We ought to repent — We ought to be better to God. 52 MOUNTAIN MEI/ODIKS. A Woman's Love. When the fields are all frozen, barren and brown, When the flowers bloom over the lea, When the sun comes up and the sun goes down. When I live in the country or live in the town. My darling, I think of thee. A Man's Love. When the sea-gull is skimming the surf of the slough, And soars away over the sea ; When the briny billows are black and blue, When I haven't anything better to do, My darling, I'll think of thee. MOUNTAIN MELODIES. 53 Here Below. You can talk about your honey- Suckle home beyond the sky, Your sun-kissed over yonder, And your blooming by and by ; Of the silver waves that warble Up against the golden shore ; Of your heathery hereafter. And your endless evermore, But if you've a lot of rapture And would like to let it go, Just sift a little sunshine In the shadows here below. Don't cluster up y-our kisses For my cold and clammy brow. This life is long and lonely — Come and let me feel them now. It's all right to lay up treasures In the realms where they won't rust ; And to figure on the future, And to try to put your trust In Him who made the Universe; But it won't hurt, I know, To sift a little sunshine In the shadows here below. 54 MOUNTAIN MKlyODlES. This Life is Good. When meads and glades and everything Put on the gaudy garb of spring ; When fragrant flowers scent the air And birds make music everywhere, I say, while wandering in the wood. This life is good. When roses rest in winter's tomb And all the earth is garbed in gloom, At eventide about the hearth I sit, and say, despite the dearth Of sun and sunset down the wood, This life is good. MOUNTAIN MEI^ODIES. 55 Asleep With the Roses. I said unto the brooklet That murmered in the mead, Pray, what's j'our rush, fair rivulet? The forest flowers need Your music. Said the brooklet : There is no rest for me ; My life came from the ocean, I go back to the sea. I asked the forest flower That blossomed in the wood, Whose life lives but an hour. And it too, understood That 'twas this dreary footstool That gave the flowers birth. It said: When life is over I go back to the earth. I asked the aged parson If some day we must die And sleep among dead flowers ? The parson answered. Aye ; We sleep, but no man dieth. Nor flowers in the glen ; But when that sleep is over This life shall live again. 56 MOUNTAIN MEI.ODIES. The Whippoorwill, Last night in silence and alone, Across my window sill 1 leaned, the moon half hidden shown, I heard the whippoorwill. My memory strayed to boyhood days. With boyhood's hopes and fears — For that lone bird I had not heard For half a dozen years. Winged spirit of the gloaming, Thy life is like mine own — A life of shade and sadness, So dreary and so lone. Must all our life be sadness, Be the leaflet green or sear ? And canst thou sing save when thy wing Is wet with heaven's tear? For in the gloam, dark as its tomb. This lone bird takes his flight — He wings his way and sings his lay In the holy hush of night. MOUNTAIN MEI,ODIES. 57 At the Tabor. After Meredith's Aux Italien. At the Tabor it was, at the comedy there, And she looked like a diamond in hock that night, With the chestnut rose in her bright red hair, And her face so fair and white, I was here and there was she : I was up m the gallery. Of all the plays Hoyt wrote for fun. The best to my mind is "A Texas Steer ;" Where the ranger soothes with a gattling gun ; The cowboy on his ear. I was here, and there my queen. With only a dollar' n a quarter between. The world is filled with folly and sin, And I must anchor where I can cling ; For beauty is easy enough to win. But a dollar's a diflfereut thing. Oh, if she'd only look up to me ; In my high place in the gallery. 58 MOUNTAIN MEI.ODIES. The Miner's Lament. O'er the treacherous trail I've traveled For near a dozen j^ears, I have sought the hidden treasure — I have lived on hopes and fears, And the dreams I dreamed at midnight On the perfumed pinon bow ; Were, I fancy, fairer — sweeter Than the dreams I'm dreaming now. I have been to see the city — I have sat beside the sea. And have heafd its mystic music ; But it brings no bliss to me. I am lone ; I miss the melody Made by the mountain winds ; As they creep across the craggy Crest and dally with the pines. 'May be wrong to be ungrateful For the good things God has given ; 'May be wrong to under-estimate The blessings sent from heaven ; But the joy that's iu the seeking Of the wealth beneath the ground Is a joy the miner loses When the hidden treasure's found. MOUNTAIN MEI,ODIES. 59 So I leave these treasured millions And again my feet I turn Toward the silent, snowy mountains, For my restive soul doth yearn For the mournful, mystic melody Made by the mountain winds, And the scent of summer wild flow'rs And the perfume of the pines. 6o MOUNTAIN MEI/ODIES. Silver Stained, I am weary, said the miner, • And my limbs are growing cold ; I am weary of this seeking After silver. I am told That the dollar of our daddies Is a dream of something fled, And that silver in the Senate 's Just about as good as lead. I had learned to love the mountains As the sailor loves the sea, As the song birds love the sunlight. As the flowers love the lea. But I'm weary, Oh, so weary, I would lay me down and rest Where the soft wind shakes the cedars, Near the mountain's craggy crest. I can see our silver dollar Slowly driven to disgrace ; There's a mark upon her forehead And a film before her face. I am weary of this waiting ; I would lay me down to rest, Where the soft wind shakes the cedars Near the mountain's craggy crest. MOUNTAIN MEIvODlES. 6l We Ain't Had No Spring. Man's a chump to set and rhyme 'Bout this soft Italian clime — Sunny skies, so blue and bright ; Sky's all right, but out of sight — Summer birds with broken wing. Some are birds that want to sing — We ain't had a bit of spring. Sun comes out and then goes back ; Horses waiting on the track. Summer's here? We don't know where- There's no music in the air. Spring's all scrambled with the fall — I think Foster's got his gall — We ain't had no spring at all. 62 MOUNTAIN MEI.ODIES. A Woman and Her Tears. I like to see a woman when Her sweet face wears a smile — To tell the truth, I like to see A woman all the while ; But in all of my experience, And I've been here for years. No woman ever wins me like A woman in her tears. She seems to come and clu-ter in My confidence and sue, And I catch her grief as gently as The roses catch the dew ; Then I feel my heart is melting, And soon it disappears, And I know it's gone to visit With the woman in her tears. MOUNTAIN MEI^ODIES. 63 The Way I Went. Last night as I lay sleeping Upon my dawny bed, The strangest, strangest vision Came drifting through my head. I dreamed I went to heaven, Saint Peter said to me, "What brought you here ? " I answered, "I came by the U. P." R io Grande Western Railway npHE only Standard Gauge Route penetrating the heart of * the Rocky Mountains. The only line passing directly through Salt Lake City to and from Pacific Coast. The only line otfering passengers the choice of three routes through the Rocky Mountains, the scenery along the hne of either being the the marvel of two continents The only line running solid trains between Denver, Pueblo and Colorado Springs, and Salt Lake City and Ogden. The only line offering passengers of all classes Free Reclining Chair Cars between Denver and Salt Lake City and Ogden In the development of Utah and her magnificient resources the Rio Grande Western has always taken the lead. See that your Freight is routed via Rio Grande Western Railway. And that your Tickets read the same way. • • • S. C. DODGE, V. P. CASS/US C. SMITH, General Manager, Ass't to General Manager, DENVER, COLORADO. J. H. BENNETT, A. E. WELBY, Gen' I Pass. & Ticket Agent, General Superintendent, SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH. "You have never done Colorado properly, unless you have made the trip over the World's Famous Loop."— Knight Templar " The World's Famous Loop " WONDERFUL ENGINEERING SUBLIME SCENERY A DELIGHTFUL EXCURSION TRIP ONLY 58 MILES FROM DENVER. THE LOOP, ABOVE GEORGETOWN, COLO. S. H. H. CLARK, PREST. A GEN'L MGR. E. DICKINSON, ASS'T GEN'L MGR. E. L. LOMAX, GEN'L PASS. A. TICKET AGENT. OMAHA, NEB. geo. ady, general agent, 1703 Larimer Street Denver, Colorado 3) . . The enver & Rio Grande Railroad Company SUMMER TOURS IN THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS 'the scenic line of the WOLRD" The Denver & Rio Grande Railroad offers to Tourists in Colorado, Utah and New Mexico the . . . GHOIGEST HESOHTS And to the Trans-continental Traveler the FINEST SCENERY Double Daily Train Service with Through Pullman Sleepers and Tourist Cars between • S^LT L^KIE OITY • SAN FRANCISCO and LOS ANGELES E. T. JEFFERY, A. S. HUGHES, President and Gen' I Manager. Traffic Manager. S. K. HOOPER, Gen' I Passenger and Ticket Agent. DENVER, COLORADO. The Midland Route There's not a solitary flower, From these grand moun- tains springing — Up where the snowy sum- mits tower; There's not a brooklet singing— There's nothing made Of shine or shade That shimmers for a minute — There's not a gleam Of poet's dream Without "The Midland's 'in it.'" soiii Trains mm an coioraio ano lllah Poigts. Pullman Palaee Sleeping Gars Without Change. ASK THE TICKET AGENTS FOR PARTICULARS OR SEND FOR ADVERTISING MATTER. H. COLLBRAN, GENERAL MANAGER, COLORADO SPRINGS, COLO. CHAS. S. LEE GEN'L PASS. AGENT, DENVER, COLO. Burlington Route Burlington Route The Chicago and St. Louis Specials, Leaving Denver daily at 9:00 a m. and reaching St. Louis at 1:25 p. m. and Chicago at 2:1 5 p. m. the next day, are designed for the accommodation of through travel from Denver eastward. The remarkably fast time 27 HOURS, DENVER TO ST. LOUIS 28 HOURS, DENVER TO CHICAGO is not attained by any excessively high rate of speed, but by continuous long distance runs and stopping only at the more important stations — hence is made every day with regularity and perfect safety. A popular feature in con- nection with these trains is, that passengers are Only One Night on the Road, and resch their destination many hours in advance of other roads. Both trains are vestibuled throughout, are con- structed after the latest and most approved designs of the Pullman Company, lighted with gas, and in point of finish and appointments, are conceded to be the finest in the country. ALL MEALS EN ROUTE ARE SERVED IN THE FAMOUS BURLINGTON DINERS. REFERENCES. ••^^^>- BRAOSTREET'S COMMERCIAL AGENCY ^ PEOPLES NATIONAL BANK, DENVER, COLO. * WESTERN BANK, DENVER, COLO. ^mC» PUEBLO NATIONAL BANK, PUEBLO, COLO. ^T* AMERICAN NATIONAL BANK, SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH. WM. GELBER Zl G0. ./IDining anD General Broilers 207, 208, 209 BOSTON BUILDING DENVER, COLORADO. We have both Dividend Paying and Speculative Mining Stocks. By dividend paying, we mean properties that are opened up sufficient to warrant the assertion that the dividend will be continued for many years. By speculative, we mean stocks in companies which are de- veloping properties which have large prospective value, and where the chances are about even to lose part of the investment or to make from ten to one hundred fold. We keep good men in the field, constantly learning and reporting on properties, and we do not sell stock in any company unless we are thoroughly familiar with the property and know the management to be men of standing and integrity. if you want to know anything about mines and mining stocks write to us, we can do you good. see page as [The Mysterious Magazine that reads like ! an open book. SREAT DIVIDE Sing-le copies, 10 cents, at all news-stands. Sub- 'scnption, $1 a year, including IQ gemstones ' Visit our oflice and see them. You'll not reg-et it' ' We're on the ground floor. THE GREAT DIVIDE, ' i5i6Arnnahoe St., Denver, Colo. r innslG I Poetrg Like Peace and Prosperity, go to- "^i°i'. gether. A person ip^o who loves one must " u/ant the other, and we sell the Best makes of Pianos in the world. THE KNIGHT- CAMPBELL MUSIC CO. Sixteenth and California Sts. Denver, Colo. HOTELS Omaha, Neb. "THE MILLARD" . . IS THE BEST THOS. L. SWOBE, PROPRIETOR. W19 % •" «♦ .. ^ •"" ^^ •«• " i» M 'V^ I BOOKBINDING ^ <^ -J*^^^^^* ^^ "^ *^S^^ ■iW''':;v::i^':::;,:fc!':^^ ' ■ '■,•-1''! (;■-;;;■' nvMj'-M-l'i I ■!t i|a:'i Hf;l ':'< 1'