f BACKLOG BALLADS I Captain David A. Murphy | Class J^^::ll l_I::._^^_ Book ' .v cT^ ^ Copyright }|°__Zf/3^ COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. Capt. David A. Murphy. BACKLOG BALLADS CAPTAIN DAVID A. MURPHY Oxford, Ohio (A ^crtes of Ptcluresijue atth pastoral poetna n on Paradise Road near Oxford, Ohio, 1895 to 1912, and while near a backlog fire on winter evenings. t PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR BY THE METHODIST BOOK CONCERN Cincinnati, Ohio 1913 COPYBIGHT, 1913, BY David A. Mxjbphy. f5 3' ^3 ^.S^ A343813 PREFACE AN OHIO EDITOR AND POET CAPTAIN DAVID A. MURPHY, Editor of The Oxford (Ohio) Herald, is a veteran of the Civil War, and he has won seven marks of distinction in life's battle. 1. He was a newspaper contributor at fifteen and a newspaper editor at twenty years of age, at Portsmouth, Ohio. 2. Selected out of three armies for Clerk at General Sherman's headquarters, Acworth, Georgia, June 7, 1864, and still has that detail. 3. The daring soldier who captured two Confederate muskets on the firing line in the battle south of Resaca, Georgia, in 1864, and was therefore promoted for good conduct on the field of battle. 4. The Editor of The Danville (Ky.) Tribune when Garfield was shot, and his famous tele- gram to Secretary Blaine, "We tender hope for the President and hemp for the assassin," scooped all American editors. 5. The soldier-editor who, with The Dan- ville Tribune as his battle-ax, compelled the Democratic Party of Kentucky in 1883 to take down the legend from the Statehouse doors at Frankfort — "No ex-Union soldier need apply." 6. The Ohio journalist who wrote the rally- ing appeal in behalf of Hon. Wm. McKinley, >^«I^ H ^»»^«' M. C, Canton, Ohio, in October, 1890. Mc- Kinley, in that canvass, faced a Democratic majority of three thousand in his district. Murphy's appeal was pubhshed on the first page in The Canton Repository. It was full of striking epigrams. 7. Capt. Murphy was endorsed for Post- master at Danville, Ky., in 1882, by two Presi- dents, U. S. Grant and Wm. McKinley; the father of one President, Judge Alphonso Taft, of Cincinnati, and the son of one President, Hon. Robt. T. Lincoln, of Chicago; two State Gov- ernors, one member of the Supreme Court, seven Republican newspapers, and 150 good Repub- licans in Kentucky. Capt. Murphy is now the soldier-editor of The Oxford Herald, the Golden Rule weekly of America, and he wears his years jauntily. (Rev.) J. W. Zimmerman, Member Kentucky Conference, Methodist Episcopal Church. P. S. — I have known Captain Murphy from boyhood.— J. W. Z. CONTENTS Subject Page Alcyone, Is It Heaven? - - - - 7 Deaf, ------- 8 Love Me Living, ----- 9 Talking Through His Hat, - - 10 The Soldier on the Firing Line, - - 11 A Startling Aphorism, - - - 12 "The Man With the Hoe," - - - 14 Morn, Noon, and Night, - - - 15 Common Sense, - - - - - 16 A Christmas Carol, - - - - 17 At Three-score Years and Ten, - - 18 Manhood, ------ 19 God Reigns, ------ 20 It Must Be Real, - - - - 21 The Man With the Pen, - - - 22 The Gulf of Years, - - - - 24 The Tell-tale Years, - - - - 25 Columbia, O Columbia! - - - 26 The God-given Republic, - - - 27 The Warning Beacon Light, - - 28 God, Give Us Men! - - - - 29 Riddles Unsolved, - - . - 30 Thanksgiving, 31 Capt. David A. Murphy, - - - 32 My Mother's Bible, - - - - 34 5 Subject Page The Ohio River, ----- 36 There 's Joy In Doing Good, - - - 37 The 81st O. V. I., . . - - 38 The Passing of the Soldiers, - - 39 Faithful Friendship, - - - - 40 New Year's Greeting, - - - - 41 Ohio, ------- 42 Modesty, - - - - - - 43 Sweet Daisy Dale, the Shaker Girl, 44 The Sweet Gum Girls, - - - - 46 The Western College Girl, - - 47 Address to Joaquin Miller, - - - 48 What 's In a Name? - - - - 49 Apple Blossoms In May, - - - 50 Farm Life, ------ 52 My Mother's Heaven, - - - - 53 The Banner Betsy Made, - - - 54 Hail, Old Glory! - - - - -55 The Golden Rule, - _ - _ 56 The Sunset Gates, - - - - - 57 Princess Alice, ----- 58 Facing Death, - - - - - 59 Abraham Lincoln, _ . - - 60 Our Martyr President's Message, - 62 Lincoln, Our Martyr President, - 63 General U. S. Grant, - - - - 64 Comrade McKinley, - - - - 66 6 BACKLOG BALLADS ALCYONE, IS IT HEAVEN? THE Master spake on Olivet, "I'll make a place for thee; My chosen win Heaven's coronet. Where I am ye may be!" Disciples wept when Christ left them — Where is the New Jerusalem? The promised rest and dwelling place. Not shown on land or sea; The central world in stellar space, Christ's friends with Him shall be. Heaven's herald star found Bethlehem, Stars Hmn the New Jerusalem. The Christian realm and mansions fair, From sin and sorrow free; The righteous hosts its glories share, Where Christ is Heaven must be! Alcyone, Pleiades' gem, Is it the New Jerusalem? The topmost star in the sky-dome, O, it shines clear and bright; If Christ be there it is our Home, And Heaven is oft in sight! Alcyone is wondrous fair. But tell us, first, if Christ is there! 7 DEAF A SOLDIER, hous'd in stolid walls, No human voice my spirit thralls; I lonely dwell in silent halls — War's clef, I'm deaf. A deaf man, yes ! nor morbid I, No spectres gloom my starry sky; My neighbors know the reason why — Not glum. Nor dumb. The greatest books my gracious friends. Their presence and my pleasure blends; Two angels fain their entrance tends — Good size. My eyes. O coming day! in mansions fair, Lov'd voices and sweet music there; God's answer to my ardent prayer — Time's near, I'll hear! Oxford, Ohio. LOVE ME LIVING 'A living dog is better than a dead lion." CHEER me living, justice giving, Speak me frankly face to face; Faults defying, naught decrying, Tell me how to win high place. Be my friend, nor wait my call. Life is brief and Death claims all! Praise me living, not misgiving. Speak me kindly face to face; Hope is cheerful, never fearful. Charity becomes the race. Be my friend while in life's ranks. Stiffs in graves return no thanks! Bless me living, sins forgiving. Speak me gently face to face; Shield the saber, be my neighbor. Christian deeds show needful grace. Be my friend ere life has fled. Love me living, not when dead ! 'TALKING THROUGH HIS HAT" H, wizard world, with crazes strange Plain people must allow; One pregnant phrase takes widest range. It makes a hit just now — Who lacks the business enterprise His rivals to combat. And "can't afford to advertise" Is talking through his hat! O, wondrous strange the saloon's power Home people must allow; Where evils grow each passing hour And good will ends in "row." Who, senseless, lacks all self-control. His habits play or plat. And madly drains "the flowing bowl" Is talking through his hat ! O, passing strange the hobo camps Farm people must allow; The hungry and the thirsty "tramps" Who neither fish nor plough. Who never gives to those in need. His wallet full or flat. And starveth men through selfish greed. Is talking through his hat! O, ghostly strange the scoffers' boast, God's people must allow; The Bible sacked — the Book loved most- What faith will man endow.'* 10 Who stifles truth and errors sow, His body lean or fat. And thistles plant where roses grow, Is talking through his hat ! The strangest crime — the countless creeds Church people must allow; The schisms and sects that grow like weeds And "fads" that cranks avow. Who distrust God and Wisdom's ways. Black or white his cravat, And seeking pelf, his Christ betrays, Is talking through his hat! Oxford, Ohio, March, 1910. THE SOLDIER ON THE FIRING LINE THE soldier on the firing line, A thrilling sight to see; His courage and his action shine — O that 's the place to be ! The battle rush and all in line. The whelming crush — that joy be mine! The soldier and his comrades brave They reck not mortal woes; They boldly face an open grave. They fight, nor fear their foes ! The country lives, the soldier dies. The hero gives what cowards prize! 11 B A STARTLING APHORISM LACK soothsayer of Oxford town. In cabin home retired; In mien grotesque — half judge, half clown. His wisdom seems inspired. One aphorism holds mystic spell, "De debbil knows, and he won't tell!" The young spendthrift, on folly bent. From virtue goes astray, "Comes to himself" when money's spent And home long leagues away. Must prodigals all cut a swell.'' "De debbil knows, and he won't tell!" The giddy maid, on crowded streets. She seeks a coquette's meed; "Eyes speak to eyes" when boys she greets Small prudence in her creed. Against wise laws dare she rebel.'' "De debbil knows, and he won't tell!" The miser, old and racked with pain, Close-fisted and heart cold; Who hoards and slaves for worldly gain. Lives but to count his gold. Is sordid gain the soul's death knell.? "De debbil knows, and he won't tell!" The drunkard's home, a scene of woe. The man once strong and brave; The wife prayed drink he might forego And shun a drunkard's grave. 12 Why revels he where serpents dwell? "De debbil knows, and he won't tell!" The gambler's craze for stakes and games, What fever racks his brain; He stakes his life — his luck he blames. Drinks won the more enchain! Does not blind luck good sense expel? "De debbil knows, and he won't tell!" The scoffer bold, who insults God, And lives for self alone; Who follows Satan's beck and nod. His evil deeds well known. Does gruesome doubt pave streets in hell? "De debbil knows, and he won't tell!" 13 "THE MAN WITH THE HOE" [Inscribed to Col. Edwin Markham.] Go tell Mr. Markham: ■ The man with the hoe is equipped for toil. Nor galling his task, nor barren his soil; Farmers outlive doctors and go their bail, 'Seedtime and harvest, they never shall fail!' 'T is well, Mr. Markham." Go tell Mr. Markham: 'The man sans the hoe, pray what could he do Midst thistles so many and flowers so iew? The Lord who made earth sends His sun and rain. They sprout the good seed and grow the world's grain. 'Tis well, Mr. Markham." Go tell Mr. Markham: 'In Millet's art group — no sorrow lurks there. The peasants give thanks while bowing in prayer; Wise peasants with thrift to princes may grow. Heaven blesses the man who handles the hoe! 'T is well, Mr. Markham." Go tell Mr. Markham: 'The man sans the hoe — a soldier sans arms. The machines all stint drudgery on farms; Farmers have plenty nine times out of ten, The man with the hoe excels the bard with the pen! 'T is well, Mr. Markham." 14 Go tell Mr. Markham: "The farmer feeds worlds — the man needs the hoe While Pleiades shine, men reap as they sow; Though hardships may strike and hornets may sting, The man with the hoe is Nature's wise king. All's well, Mr. Markham." Oxford, Ohio. MORN, NOON, AND NIGHT H, the hilltops glow In the morning sun. And the barn-fowls crow As the rabbits run. And the farmers sow When the plowing 's done. Oh, the sun moves slow In the nooning hour. And the corn-ears grow In the summer shower. And the cider-mills flow In the orchard bower. Oh, the moonvines blow In the evening time. And the star- worlds show In the upper clime. And crickets chirp low While the church bells chime. 15 COMMON SENSE NE wintry night, from back-log fire. The genii came and tuned my lyre And gave it wisdom's key; They said: "O bard, what is thy will? Our gracious God thy measures fill And bless thy minstrelsy!" I therefore ask, and promise claim. Not Croesus' wealth nor Homer's fame. But gifts that make men free; A conscience clear, void of offense. Good judgment based on common sense, And sterling honesty. A cottage, thatched, midst landscape rare^ Where singing birds life's glories share. And young folks climb my knee; A righteous creed with no pretense. The wisdom born of common sense. And gracious courtesy. "The white flower of a blameless life," The Golden Rule that baffles strife. The largess wise men see; The Christian zeal with love intense. The saving grace of common sense, And boundless charity. 16 The genii smiled and kissed my lyre And vanished midst the smoldering fire. So haply we agree; The Nation's weal and strong defense. The gold-mine of good common sense And whelming loyalty. Oxford, Ohio. A CHRISTMAS CAROL THE royal Babe of David's town In Judah's sacred story, In manger bed and swaddling gown, O Child of Heavenly glory! Christ's natal day earth's purest gem. Glad Christmas gilds old Bethlehem! The royal Babe of David's line, The world's King and man's Brother; A trav'ling star the given sign, O Child of virgin mother! Christ's natal day time's brightest gem. Glad Christmas gilds old Bethlehem! The royal Babe of David's fold, His advent seems truth's isthmus; "A Savior born," His mission told, O Child of mystic Christmas! Christ's natal day love's greatest gem. Glad Christmas gilds old Bethlehem! Oxford, Ohio, December 25, A. D. 1912. 17 AT THREE-SCORE YEARS AND TEN AT three-score years and ten, what shall one u say of "Life?" A struggling group of men in complex stress and strife. The Nomads have not ceas'd, and wander-lust gives zest. The strollers from the East, the settlers of the West. At three-score years and ten, what shall one say of "Luck.''" A crisis now and then, born leaders prove their pluck. Bold Cromwell thron'd a realm, brave Lincoln freed a race. The people naught my whelm, all freemen find their place. At three-score years and ten, what shall one say of "Death.?" It mocketh tongue or pen — it robbeth us of breath. Earth's pilgrims halt nor stay, and tenants are they all. Death stalketh night and day and slayeth great and small. At three-score years and ten, what shall one say of "Heaven.'^" On mountain or in glen, a Christian life its leaven. 18 The promised "Place" not far, and sometimes 't is in sight, Alcyone — the star — and Jesus Christ its Light! MANHOOD "Show thyself a man." — 1 Kings 2: 2. JUST live thy life and hopeful be. Stout-hearted, work and pray; Nor Herods fear nor Pilates flee, True manhood none may slay. Stride bravely forth and burdens share — The manly win the mansions fair! Just do thy work and faithful be. Look upward and give thanks; The simple life is Wagner's plea. Pure manhood plays no pranks. Climb mountain heights and dangers dare — The faithful win the mansions fair! Just show thy worth and gracious be. Hold dullness chief of sins; The valiant bends no servile knee, Real manhood wooes and wins. Seek choicest gifts and crosses bear — The righteous win the mansions fair! Oxford, Ohio, March, 1910. 19 GOD REIGNS I will trust and not he afraid.'" — Isaiah 12: 2. NE regnant, happy thought. Sweet comfort brings each day My battles long since fought. No perils gloom my way; All turmoil comes to naught. The sunbeams round me play. O mystic wiles. Faith smiles! One gracious, cheerful thought. No righteous man my foe. My country's weal still sought. All comrades good- will show; The Golden Rule Christ taught — Its Justice seems to glow. O cryptic years, Hope cheers ! One sturdy, massive thought, High courage fears no fate. My freedom is love-fraught. Love conquers feud and hate; Bright glimpses have been caught. Good angels round me wait. O shining hills. Love thrills! 20 One final, filial thought. The Supreme Judge does right, My ransom is blood-bought. The Jordan holds no fright; A marvel has been wrought. At evening time 't is light. O heavenly plains, God reigns! Oxford, Ohio, 1906. IT MUST BE REAL THE wisest and the fondest pair. Where'er on earth they live. Find selfish traits each may well spare. And faults they must forgive! Nor man, nor wife is quite ideal. The love that holds it must be real! The Godlike man, famed for good will, Whate'er his plane of life, His summer soul feels winter's chill. Mated to sulky wife ! O'er brightest skies storm-clouds will steal. The love that holds it must be real! The Christian wife, pure as a dove, Howe'er she meets her fate. No faithless man retains her love. The "rake" she well may hate! Grace crowns Truth King in woe or weal. The love that holds it must be real! 21 THE MAN WITH THE PEN [Inscribed to Mr. Edwin Markham, Oakland, Cal.] THE man with the pen, in Oakland he lives. The hoeman his screed, small pity he gives. His Maker he mocks who wisely has said, "In sweating of brow shall worker earn bread." Work is God's plan While grain fields shall grow; The farmer 's the man Who hoes his own row! The man with the pen spurns labor's hard knocks. The hoeman he holds is "brother to ox;" Aye, brother to Him who numbers the stars, A hero in toil, though sunburnt his scars. Good farmers love work While breezes shall blow; The idlers who shirk Link hardship with hoe! The man with the pen, the census will show. Our country's two-fifths are hoeman with hoe; One "Master" they serve. His praises they sing. The hoeman with hoe is Nature's real king. The farm lands need men. All reapers must sow; The poets wield pen. The hoeman needs hoe! 22 The man with the pen once handled the hoe. His farm land was tilled when markets were slow; Nor servile his toil, his manhood not harmed, When Byron he read, the hoeman was charmed. The slayer of weeds. His harvests stint woe; All nations he feeds, The hoeman with hoe! The man with the pen — nor prophet nor seer — Who "peasants" a man nor proffers him cheer; The farmers live long, their children grow hale; Their ruddy cheeks glow while poet's look pale. Our world is life's school. Toil strengthens its men; The hoe is man's tool — No more is man's pen! 23 THE GULF OF YEARS [Written to disprove the familiar statement that "the poets have long since exhausted all liv- ing subjects."] H, Daphne dear ! 't is cruel fate. Our hapless love brings anguish great. Relief comes not with tears; I'm fifty -four, and then, eighteen, Can'st thou not see what lies between — The yawning gulf of years ! Oh, Daphne dear! why longer wait. Our trysting place seems sorrow's gate, Restraint the more endears; Three times thy moons mine eyes have seen, Would'st thou still brave what lies between — The seething gulf of years! Oh, Daphne dear! go homeward straight. Our helpless plight all mortals hate. Reproof no vision clears; Were I thy king and thou my queen. We ne'er could bridge what lies between — The whelming gulf of years ! U w THE TELL-TALE YEARS E spend our years, as tales are told, Sorae strive for fame, some delve for gold, And some are weak and some are bold. Midst hopes and fears We spend our years ! We spend our years, and no year doled. If never bought, we're sometimes sold — Our given days in annals roll'd. Midst joys and jeers We spend our years ! We spend our years in field or fold. We little have and nothing hold, On shifting sands our names are scroll'd. Midst smiles and tears We spend our years! We spend our years — the young grow old. Our limbs grow stiff, our forms grow cold, In common graves our bodies mold. Midst cribs and biers We spend our years! 25 COLUMBIA, O COLUMBIA UR country lov'd as Father's land, Columbia, O Columbia; Its winters short and summers bland, Columbia, O Columbia. A Nation wall'd by mighty seas. The sovereigns bend no servile knees, God's freemen grow as cedar trees, Columbia, O Columbia. Our country lov'd as Mother's land, Columbia, O Columbia; Its valleys great and mountains grand, Columbia, O Columbia. A million homes own woman's power. The olive plants the matron's dower, God's angels guard the natal bower, Columbia, O Columbia. Our country, lov'd as Children's land, Columbia, O Columbia; Its common schools in phalanx stand, Columbia, O Columbia. The college halls like beacons shine. The sturdy youth delve wisdom's mine, God's jewels mark the Saxon line, Columbia, O Columbia. Oxford, Ohio. THE GOD-GIVEN REPUBLIC THE modern Republic, salubrious its clime. Its domain extends from sea unto sea; Its valleys are fruitful and its mountains sub- lime. As merry song-birds, its children are free. Happy are the thrifty beneath its flag unfurled, America, God's land, the garden of the world! The mighty Republic, intelligence its goal. The people their will by ballots decree; Justice and good laws the masses guard and con- trol. Freedom, man's birthright, brooks no tyranny. Homesteads for the homeless beneath its flag- unfurled, America, God's land, the refuge of the world! The matchless Republic, fraternity its sun. All may worship God as conscience dictates; Equal rights unto all, special grants unto none. The Federal Union holds forty-eight States. Brotherhood and free speech beneath its flag unfurled, America, God's land, the Canaan of the world! 27 THE WARNING BEACON LIGHT A FISHER drowned one stormy night . Off Orkney Island's coast; Boat struck on rocks and swamped out- right, Man vanished like a ghost. Beneath the waves the reef rocks lay. No beacon light warned boats away! Lo, ever more, when nightfall came. Midst calm seas or wind shocks, A beacon light from the "cliff hame" Warned sailors off the rocks. His widow, true, for fifty years Saved fisher-boats, nor stayed her tears! Rum's hidden snares on life's lea shore — The toiler's deadly foe; A drunkard's death wrings some heart sore And tears that, helpless, flow. Shun the saloons as Satan's blight. Behold the warning beacon light! Rum's snake-like coils, like ocean waves. Its victims whelm in woe. And luckless men fill drunkards' graves. Caught in Hell's undertow! Shun the saloons as Satan's snare. The beacon light shows danger there! 28 GOD, GIVE US MEN I OD, give us men of gracious mien, [Whose virtues strong no vices screen. In wisdom great and vision keen. And whether in a fog or fen, O God, we pray, give us good men! God, give us men of signal power. Brave captains when the war-clouds lower. Great statesmen in the peaceful bower. And whether arm'd with sword or pen, O God, we pray, give us good men! God, give us men of widest scope, Torch bearers of the Christian's hope On Eastern hill or Western slope. And whether in a cave or den, O God, we pray, give us good men! God, give us men whom angels trust, Whose blameless lives scorn money lust. The righteous seed and ever just. And whether young or three-score ten, O God, we pray, give us good men! 29 RIDDLES UNSOLVED THE riddle of birth — the babies in tears. And fearsome, they seem, when born; The greatest of gifts that mother's heart cheers, The children not lean or lorn. In palace or hut the fondest home tie. Pray, riddle us, why the babies all cry! The riddle of death — the parents in smiles. And fearless they reach life's end; The glimpses of rest and mystic its wiles. Good people find death a friend. The grandsires and dames in crossing Time's stile. Pray, riddle us, why the parents all smile! The riddle of seas — two sturdy ships sail And proudly breast wind and wave; Storm-driven, they part, one weathers the gale. One finds a derelict's grave. In voyage o'er seas one swims and one sinks. Pray, riddle us, why the ocean's a sphinx! The riddle of love — two human folk meet And, longing, they look and sigh; The trysting place find, love's magic is sweet, O Cupid is wise and sly. The bridgegroom and bride love's Eden have gain'd, Pray, riddle us, why the serpent's not chain'd! 30 The riddle of blood — two soldiers in war And sabers are stained with red; One loses his life, one gaineth a star. The living fight o'er the dead. Brave armies have fought since Noah's great flood, Pray, riddle us, why Christ's nations shed blood! THANKSGIVING UR father's God, accept glad thanks For well-filled barns, not broken banks. For homes on shore, not hulks at sea; For daily food, not nightly want. For stalwart men, not spectres gaunt. For Union saved and all men free. Our mother's God, accept warm thanks. For princely gifts, not pauper blanks. For children's songs, not parrot screams; For maxims wise, not fables old, For healthful homes, not mudhuts cold. For urban scenes and silvan streams ! Our country's God, accept proud thanks, For dove-eyed peace, not war's mad pranks For righteous laws, not anarchy; For statecraft good, not schemer's gall. For harvest's store, not famine's pall. For the Bible and Liberty! 31 1842 1912 CAPT. DAVID A. MURPHY Of Oxford, Ohio An Ohio Veteran of the Civil War THE figure "7," it appears, is Capt. David A. Murphy's fateful number. This is how the number "7," hke a weaver's shuttle, runs through the warp and woof of his ckeck- ered career: 1. The first-born of 7 Murphy children; 2. Lived 7 years on the home farm near Rome, Ohio. 3. At 17 years, contributor of poetry to weekly newspapers. 4. Has had 7 employers, including "Our Uncle Samuel," in 50 years. 5. Served under 7 great War Generals in the field, 1862-1865. 6. On the firing line, "under fire," 70 days in succession in 1864. 7. Has personally known 7 of the great Ameri- can Presidents. 8. Superintendent of Construction of 7 U. S. Public Buildings. 9. Has 7 newspaper "scoops" to his credit in Modern Journalism. 10. Presented with 7 historic canes by his friends. North and South. 11. Recipient of 70 times 7 tokens of esteem in business life. 32 12. Has 7 times narrowly and marvelously es- caped sudden death. 13. Has lived in 7 States and has comrades in 47 States of the Union. 14. Has 77 autograph letters from Presidents, Generals, and Poets. 15. Has outlived 7 of his own and his father's family Physicians. 16. Has lived through 3 Wars and 4 Panics to be 70 years of age. 17. There are 17 letters in his full name — David (5) Asbury (6) Murphy (6). (Rev.) John W. Zimmerman, Member Kentucky Conference, Methodist Episcopal Church. Dayton, Kentucky, March 17, A. D. 1912. 33 INSCBIPTION INSCRIBED WITH A LOVE THAT NEVER DIES TO MY CHRISTIAN MOTHER WHOSE INSCRIPTION AND BENEDICTION STILL BLESSES ME OXFORD, OHIO, U. S. A. THE AUTHOR M MY MOTHER'S BIBLE 'The finest of the wheat."— P^a. 81:16 Y mother's book ! My shepherd's crook. Volume with love replete; Its study yields, like harvest fields. The finest of the wheat ! My mother's faith ! Whate'er it saith, Shall earth nor hell defeat; Its seed will keep, who sows shall reap, The finest of the wheat ! My mother's hope! Faith's telescope, What visions so entreat ? On every plain waves golden grain. The finest of the wheat ! My mother's love! Angels above And saints below shall meet; When Christ shall come and harvest home The finest of the wheat ! O, matchless book ! Our shepherd's crook. His throne the mercy-seat; The Christian's staff, truth free from chaff. The finest of the wheat ! 35 THE OHIO RIVER THE stately Ohio River, flowing large and never lorn, The sloping vales on either side grow har- vest fields of corn. The Indian tribes have Westward fled, Time changes not the river bed. In weeping groups the willows grow, O sometimes swift and sometimes slow, Far-famed Rio — The Ohio! The stellar Ohio River, moving on while ages roll. Its rapid swing no sand-bars stay, the ocean wide its goal. The shining hills as sentries stand, The river breeze and climate bland. Pale faces build and roses grow, O sometimes high and sometimes low. Bay nor bayou. The Ohio! The sturdy Ohio River — steamers ply and carry freight The farmers ship to markets near surplus prod- ucts of the State. The wharfboats hail the captain's greet. State commerce feeds the river fleet. The raftmen steer and skiffmen row, O sometimes rain and sometimes snow. Rivers trio, The Ohio! 36 THERE 'S JOY IN DOING GOOD Trust in the Lord and Do Good, so shalt thou dwell in the land and verily thou shalt Be Fed." —Psalms 37: 5. A COMRADE of the common weal, And cheerful is my mood; Christ's pattern gives me potent zeal — There 's joy in doing good! No envy may I ever feel O'er wrongs I do not brood; Home lovers and life's largess real — There 's joy in doing good! A blameless life no bandits steal. And Truth has Time withstood; No fickle spokes in Fortune's wheel — There 's joy in doing good! The Christian hears the church bells peal And loves Christ's brotherhood; Heaven's healthy gifts all heart wounds heal — There 's joy in doing good! O Heavenly King! I humbly kneel In thanks for daily food; God's gracious Word and given seal — There 's joy in doing good! 37 THE 81sT O. V. I. [Inscribed to the Christian Soldier, Gen. Robt. N. Adams.] THE colonel of our regiment, A man of sturdy frame; Supremely just — with good will blent — And Adams is his name. Not fast or slow — wise and sedate — An oflBcer whose words had weight! The captains of our regiment, The gallant staff and line. War's hardships shared, nor sulked in tent — Brave deeds their names entwine. Our country loved with fervent glow. Most happy when they faced the foe! The soldiers of our regiment Their life-blood freely gave; They marched and fought where they were sent — Death lists prove they were brave. From first to last, so true its men, The grave claimed more than prison pen! The battles of our regiment Its fame accentuates. With hosts that shook a continent It fought in seven States. The eighty -first's scarred flags attest No braver troops fought, East or West! 38 The heroes of our regiment, Comrades who fought and fell, Their Hves they gave, households were rent, Their worth no speech could tell. The Union lives — thanks to its friends — And Freedom's cause the world commends! Oxford, Ohio. THE PASSING OF THE SOLDIERS [" The statistics of the United States Pension Ofice at Washington, D. C, show that the soldiers are dying at the rate of 100 a day."] A COMPANY a day! our comrades now pass. Their faces last seen through coffin plate- glass. Brave heroes ! when call'd, no respite seek they. Death haileth soldiers, one hundred a day ! A brigade a month! while church bells are toll'd. So passeth from earth the soldiers most bold. Their battles are o'er, no longer they stay. Friends bury soldiers, one hundred a day! An army a year ! as mortals they die. Their spirits find rest in mansions on high. Our Country still lives and Freedom holds sway, God welcomes soldiers, one hundred a day! Oxford, Ohio, U. S. A. 39 FAITHFUL FRIENDSHIP A STURDY friend, Heaven's regal gift. Who speaketh fair is wise; In neighbor's stress gives needed lift, His friendship praise and prize. While conflicts mar, peace compacts mend Heaven's regal gift — a sturdy friend! A faithful friend, earth's precious boon, Who doeth right is just; A shining sun and silver moon. His friendship truth and trust. While oak trees break and willows bend, Earth's precious boon — a faithful friend! A cheerful friend, life's saving grace, Who loveth most is blest; True brother of the human race, His friendship creed and crest. While stately hills and valleys blend. Life's saving grace — a cheerful friend! Oxford, Ohio, June, 1910. 40 NEW YEAR'S GREETING THE New Year swings an open door, Earth's pilgrims enter in; Its given days great treasures store, Rich prizes workers win. We upward look and victors cheer, And proudly greet the new New Year! The New Year swings an open barn. The seedmen plough and sow; The pressing need all sluggards warn, Great harvests farm lands grow. We outward move and forests clear. And wisely greet the new New Year! The New Year swings an open mart, Bold commerce girds the world; The merchant ships all oceans chart, The Nation's flag unfurl'd. We onward march nor demons fear. And bravely greet the new New Year ! 41 OHIO THE free-born State in Northern crest. An empire in embryo; The settlers and their children blest. Earth's garden spot in verdure drest, God's acre where our fathers rest — O peerless is Ohio! The farm-land State in Western tier. Its valleys bog nor bayou; Rich harvests give the yeoman cheer, The products and the markets near, God's bounty shown, and every year — O peerless is Ohio! The front line State and Southern gate. Its glory a grand Rio; The scholars and the statesmen great. The heroes' names the ages freight, God's mighty zone, the Buckeye State- O peerless is Ohio! Oxford, Ohio. 42 MODESTY GRANT me, O Lord, not riches great, But sturdy strength for toil; The workman's hands that grapple fate And harvests reap from soil. My private need in public state, Good vantage ground, not riches great ! Grant me, O Lord, not talents great. But wisdom born on high; The eagle's eyes and sun-goal gait, And Freedom the soul cry. My private need in public state. Good common sense, not talents great! Grant me, O Lord, not honors great, But comrade's "hand in glove;" A cheerful wife and equal mate, And children born of love. My private need in public state. Good staying power, not honors great ! Oxfordt Ohio. 43 SWEET DAISY DALE, THE SHAKER GIRL DOWN Mount Lebanon, on the Western slope. Among the grand old Berkshire Hills, The Shaker settlers with the woodlands cope On winding streams well fed by rilb. Walled in by the mountains, a fair and fruitful vale. The Shaker girl, a jewel rare, Sweet Daisy Dale ! The rich harvest fields to the hills extend. Green pastures cropped by cows and sheep; White-painted houses with rural charms blend. The close-mouthed Friends their secrets keep. Peaceful and pastoral, where no feuds could pre- vail, The Shaker maid, twenty and tall. Sweet Daisy Dale! Shakers, all thrifty — growing each year more — Small fruits and choice flowers they sold; Herb medicines and garden seeds in store. Stock sales brought in silver and gold. Worldly fashions they eschew'd as beyond Friends' pale. The Shaker belle, student of books. Sweet Daisy Dale! Daisy, an orphan, sent from Pittsfield town, Hebe in form, princess in grace; Deep blue were her eyes, her hair golden brown- The girl with a conqueror's face. 44 Despite her modest garb, pure mischief would exhale In their strange world, not of their world, Sweet Daisy Dale! A summer shower drove to village store The pastor of a Pittsfield flock; Shelter found there until the storm was o'er — He met his fate, nor shamed his stock. Twenty-five and not wed, the young pastor, George Gale, Some one told him her name — it was Sweet Daisy Dale! The pastor mused long, perplexed was his will, The Shaker maid scarce knew his name; Twice met her at store, her blush caused a thrill. In their young hearts kindled love's flame. Down among the beech woods, haunt of squirrel and quail. And on Paradise Road he woo'd Sweet Daisy DaJe! The Shakers his friends, he asked her release; Their humane hearts could not say nay. The Shaker princess left their vale in peace On the glad morn of love's May-day. The wedding bells rang out, gossips there left the trail When the Pittsfield pastor married Sweet Daisy Dale! Oxford, Ohio. 45 THE SWEET GUM GIRLS THE modern maid is wondrous fair In beauty, and in culture rare; A princess born, a luscious plum — Ah, woe is me, she chews sweet gum! The modern maid is wondrous wise. The gallants all her bon-mots prize; A merry heart, and seldom glum. But, woe is me, she chews sweet gum! The modern maid is wondrous sweet, Man's Eden mate and helper meet; She loveth God and hateth rum — O, woe on woe, she chews sweet gum! The modern maid is wondrous strong, She skateth far and dances long; A spinning wheel with singing hum — But, woeful woe, she chews sweet gum! The modern girl is wondrous dear. Her virtues all the yeomen cheer; Heaven's matchless gift in a lump sum. Her mother old — she eschews gum! 46 THE WESTERN COLLEGE GIRL THE Western college girl, a daughter frank and fair; A maiden born to bless, she giveth her full share; The idol of her class, her beauty not a snare. She boldly fronts life's mazy whirl. The fearless, Western college girl! The Western college girl, a daughter bright and blest; The marvel of the East, the glory of the West; In college, as at home, she ranketh with the best. In modest worth a priceless pearl. The clever. Western college girl! The Western college girl, a daughter good and great; She loveth Christ on earth, good angels round her wait; A princess born and bred, Prince Royal's equal mate. Her gracious mood shames selfish churl, The ideal Western college girl! 47 ADDRESS TO JOAQUIN MILLER W ELCOME, Miller! mountain minstrel. Give us "lessons not in books," Nature's secrets strike thy cymbal, Bank with gold Sierra's brooks. Speak! thou bard of mountain thunder, God and nature wakes our wonder! Welcome, Miller, seer of mountains ! "Sermons find in stones and trees;" Truth, like rivers, flows from fountains. Wild flowers grow for honey bees. Speak! thy knowledge be our plunder, God and nature none may sunder! Welcome, Miller, bard of nature! Solitude thee rejoices; Wondrous all woods nomenclature. Mystic all the birds' voices. Speak ! thy Gold State our ref under, God in nature does not blunder! Oxford, Ohio. 48 w WHAT 'S IN A NAME? HAT'S in a name? good Shakespeare asks. A rose midst thorns smells sweet; The regnant truth no mortal masks. Chaff is not good as wheat. Peace lovers may all virtues claim — Grim fighters fill the Hall of Fame! In Congress halls, what's in a name? Tariff is not Free Trade; Trust magnates meet and schedules frame, Compacts in secret made. The people may the statesmen blame — Great soldiers gild the Hall of Fame! What's in a name midst common tasks? Faint heart win not life's goal; The man-bird in the limelight basks, Brave men find the North Pole! World leaders may like comets flame — War heroes hold the Hall of Fame! 49 APPLE BLOSSOMS IN MAY We justly praise, In grateful lays, The clover fields of June. "April showers Bring May flowers." Nature is no poltroon. And there 's a scent That gives content. Regnant both night and day; All muses greet With accents sweet Apple blossoms in May ! The orchard trees Sway in .the breeze. The red and blue-birds sing; The grasses green. The skies serene. Vernal the woods in spring. And there 's a scent That's not misspent. Fragrance that lures alway; All lovers greet. With fondness treat, Apple blossoms in May! The old time well. The dinner bell, The stable large and warm; The horses sleek. The cows so meek, Poultry that range the farm. 50 1 And there 's a scent That none resent. Heart's ease for sad and gay; All neighbors greet. With plaudits meet, Apple blossoms in May! The well-tilled fields Great harvest yields. Gardens with berries teem; The meadow larks, "The dog that barks" — Landscape the poet's dream. And there 's a scent Which none repent. Incense that angels sway; All workers greet. With hope replete, Apple blossoms in May! The farm house dear All guests revere. Tall cedars grace the lawn; Roses in bloom. Daisies find room — Home scene from real life drawn And there 's a scent. With fruit-time blent. Perfume that none gainsay; All farmers greet With joy complete Apple blossoms in May! Grant Grove, Oxford, Ohio. 51 FARM LIFE THE Eastern sun with its red dye Gilds the whole earth and flecks the sky. The signs cause no alarm; The farmer goes to work in fields. Good soil, well-tilled, rich harvest yields — 'T is morning on the farm ! The Zenith sun with fiery rays Its glory beams and round us plays. The heat not meant to harm; The farmer hears the dinner horn Midst sheaves of wheat or shocks of corn — 'T is noonday on the farm ! The Western sun with amber glow Tints highest hills and valleys low. The twilight brings its charm; The farmer, glad, with good health blest, Though hard his toil, at home finds rest, 'T is evening on the farm! 52 M MY MOTHER'S HEAVEN ^ Mother's Heaven, Christ's promised place. The Canaan of the human race. The Bible proof of saving grace — No sickness and no parting there, "Not made with hands," the mansions fair! My Mother's Heaven, Christ's promised Home, The central star in stellar dome; Once safely there saints never roam. The nightless realm of endless day Where God shall wipe all tears away. My Mother's Heaven, Christ's promised rest, The righteous hosts are ever blest — Lo! Abram's seed from East and West. And pleasures there shall banish pain. And Christ, Heaven's King, in triumph reign! 53 THE BANNER BETSY MADE [In honor of Betsy Ross, who made the first American Flag, at Philadelphia.] THE banner new that Betsy made. Love-born midst heart-beats true; The chosen hues of brightest shade. The red, the white, the blue! As eagles claim a mountain crag All soldiers fain love Betsy's flag! The banner new that Betsy made. The seams stitched on her knee; The soldiers fought and women prayed. The Colonies are free. Not captive lives a forest stag, All yeomen fain love Betsy's flag! The banner new that Betsy made. The product of her hands; The safeguard of our shipping trade. The glory of all lands. Its gladsome folds no mourners drag. All freemen fain love Betsy's flag! The banner new that Betsy made. Proud victor in all wars; The regnant stars in Union stay'd. Time heals some battle scars. The Nation's strength stints reckless brag. All Betsy's friends love Betsy's flag! Oxford, Ohio. 54< H HAIL, OLD GLORY! AIL, Old Glory, Whig nor Tory, Banner held in simple fee; Brightly beaming, proudly streaming East and West, its colors gleaming — Standard lov'd on land and sea! Hail, Old Glory, grim nor gory, Banner stitched on woman's knee; Battles daring, honors sharing, North and South, its colors flaring — Standard lov'd on land and sea! Hail, Old Glory, young nor hoary, Banner of a Nation free; English speaking, commerce seeking, Every clime, its colors streaking — Standard lov'd on land and sea! Oxford, Ohio. I 58 THE GOLDEN RULE OUR homes might be brighter, our hearts might be lighter. And blessings would increase and grow far and wide; More peaceful our slumbers, friends growing in numbers If one Golden Rule were our precept and pride. The Golden Rule, read it! The Golden Rule, heed it — O God, bless and speed it, the rule as our guide ! Do unto others, keeping Heaven in view. As ye would brothers should do unto you. The world would be better and mankind our debtor If the God-given rule was enthroned every day; As father helps mother and sister helps brother. And, loving each other, all help while we may. The Golden Rule, bless it! The Golden Rule, press it! God help us to stress it and give it full sway! Do unto others, keeping Heaven in view. As ye would brothers should do unto you. 56 I THE SUNSET GATES 'M looking through the sunset gates. Where trials end and triumph waits; Faith sings a mystic rhyme; Death grimly stalks the groaning earth. Swift changes stint all fireside mirth — There 's light at evening time! I 'm looking through the sunset gates. Where ransom'd souls meet raptur'd mates, Hope rings a joyous chime; Life's pilgrims greet loved pastors there. Earth's mourners find the mansions fair — There 's light at evening time! I 'm looking through the sunset gates. Where friendly hands whelm feudal hates; Love limns a royal clime; The sun-bright clime where sorrows cease, Christ's blissful place of blessed peace — There 's light at evening time! Oxford, Ohio. 57 1884 PRINCESS ALICE 1889 [Inscribed to Miss Alice Roosevelt, on her Fifth Birthday.] H tell me not of California's gold. Nor of Afric's diamond mines, Nor of costly pearls some river beds hold, Nor of Mecca's luring shrines — There's a charming lass holding regal sway, 'T is "Princess" Alice on her fifth birthday! O tell me not of Olympian heights Nor of Grecian classic vales. Nor of the storied Arabian Nights Nor of modern fairy tales — There's a witching lass holding regal sway, 'T is "Princess" Alice on her fifth birthday! O tell me not of Parisian grace Nor of Naples and its bay, Nor of lover's joy at their trysting place Nor of meadow larks in May — There's a dazzling lass holding regal sway, 'T is "Princess" Alice on her fifth birthday! Oxford, Ohio. 58 I FACING DEATH [Lines suggested by the sudden death of Major General Frederick D. Grant, of New York, N. Y.] AN island small in river wide, I. A soldier grim and gray; And crumbling banks on every side — The earth grows less each day. The surging waves fain strangle breath And, daily there, I 'm facing death ! The island and its crumbling banks A moving picture play; Grant's armies all show thinning ranks. One hundred less each day. The river waves fain strangle breath, And, soldier-like, I'm facing death! My mother died, and without fear — No fear did Jennie show; The risen Christ gives Christians cheer. Death is a conquered foe. Time's surging waves fain strangle breath, All soldiers now are facing death! Oxford, Ohio. 59 ABRAHAM LINCOLN Born February 12 1809. Died April 15, 1865. A BACKWOODS lad of lowly birth, His sturdy frame hous'd struggling worth; A gifted boy, His mother's joy, Real hardships shar'd nor stifled mirth — Our log-cabin President. Read borrow'd books by pine-knots' light. Pure wisdom sought as students might; His ideals high As eagles fly. His schooling scant for scholar bright — Our great Western President. Strange sadness gloom'd his homely face. His tow'ring form held mystic grace. His splendid eyes A savant's prize. Born leader of the Saxon race — Our high-minded President. The Nation's chief and Union shield. While armies fought good women kneel'd. Men bravely died On either side. Our Country's cause his courage steel'd — Our stout-hearted President. 60 His foresight gleam'd at Council board, Slave Dragon slew with Freedom's sword. New era gave To chattled slave. No horses swapp'd while crossing ford — Our good-humor'd President. His Country lov'd with fervent glow. An upward climb his footsteps show. His growing frame All cynics shame. Rank thistles pluck'd and roses grow — Our peace-loving President. A wondrous seer, but, tempest-toss 'd. His onward course was strangely cross 'd. From cabin bare To White House chair. The Union saved at fearful cost — Our first Martyr President. 61 OUR MARTYR PRESIDENTS' MESSAGE [An impassioned appeal to the American Congress.] THREE martyrdoms mark bereavements, The horror spreads out thinly; Three removals balk'd achievements, Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley. The martyrs speak from cryptic walls, Drive outlaws out, their presence galls. Aye, drown them in Niagara Falls. The martyrs' prayers not party wails — safeguard life else Freedom fails! The anarchists blight Arcady, Congress knows and that right well; From New Jersey to Nevada Bandits stalk on mission fell. The problem grave and peril dire. Drive outlaws out, nor driving tire. Aye, burn them in Mount Pelee's fire. The martyrs' prayers not selfish calls — safeguard life else Suffrage stalls! O Congress Halls, pray remember Bandits are most pestilent; First enactment for December Safeguard for the President. Good people mourn the martyrs slain, Drive outlaws out and marplots chain, Aye, starve them on Sahara's plain. The martyrs' prayers for action wise — safeguard life else Justice dies! Oxford, Ohio. 62 LINCOLN, OUR MARTYR PRESIDENT Born February 12, 1809. Died April 15, 1865. THE man and his birth ! the way-mark of years, Log cabin and mirth, hfe's hardship and tears, Full measure of worth, the homage of peers — Our Western President! The man and his power! a statesman thrice arm'd. The Union his tower, no loyal man harm'd. Great wisdom his dower, no duty he farm'd — Our war-time President! The man and his jest! quaint stories he told, Some sorrows, half guess'd, in humor he roll'd. His kindness men bless 'd, his patience pure gold — Our friendly President! The man and his meed ! a prophet and seer, A brother in need his counsel gave cheer, Man's freedom his creed, his mission was clear — Our sterling President! The man and his fame! in stature like none. An Atlas none blame, the Nation's loved son. Time garlands his name, world plaudits he won — Our martyr President! Oxford, Ohio. 63 GENERAL U. S. GRANT The Greatest Captain of the Civil War Born April 21, 1822. Died July 23, 1885. SILENT Commander, whose gift was achievement. On Mount McGregor his soul found re- lease; His passing, though foretold, a Nation's be- reavement. War's greatest Captain said, "Let us have peace." Ohio his birth State, Point Pleasant his home town, In Army and Nation won the highest renown. O struggling Citizen, whose youth was prosaic, His hardships out West show mettle and worth; His vicissitudes limn a striking mosaic. War's greatest Captain a marshal from birth. Heroic in battle and resistless as fate. His coolness and vigor gave prowess double weight. O sturdy Warrior, whose soul was reliant. The sphinx and victor on every battlefield; He conquered Southern hosts and armies defiant. War's greatest Captain made his foeman yield. From Vicksburg to Richmond all critics fain agree. He routed Buckner and Pemberton, Bragg and Lee! 64 O splendid Peace-maker, the Nation his debtor. Like Lincoln, pluck'd weeds and planted a rose; The Union grown larger, the Union lov'd better. War's greatest Captain made friends of his foes. One country, one banner, all sectionalism blocks, Americans and freemen — since Appomattox! O stricken Patriot whose name is immortal. No nation on earth has produced his peer; His thrilling Memoirs were written at death's portal. War's greatest Captain compiled his career. His trials all ended, and his triumphs complete. Bravely died as he lived and sounded no retreat ! O sterling Traveler, welcom'd by all nations. Modest and manly midst glamour that clings; The victor feted by foreign legations. War's greatest Captain the comrade of kings. Plain soldier, world-knighted, their homage half express'd. The greatest of rulers greeted him as their guest ! O stalwart President, his greeting was hearty. His friendship regal, his word men could trust; Good measures he approv'd as mandates of party. War's greatest captain was loyal and just. The soldier and statesman, not seeking praise or blame, Hero of our country and resplendent his fame! ' 65 COMRADE McKINLEY [A Memorial Song for Decoration Day.] UR Comrade slain in manhood's prime, McKinley, O McKinley! His taking off the maddest crime, McKinley, O McKinley! The idol of his native State, In highest place won honors great. Like Lincoln, met a tragic fate, McKinley, O McKinley! Our Comrade slain in Canton sleeps, McKinley, O McKinley! The Nation's guard love's vigil keeps, McKinley, O McKinley! His gracious speech all compeers miss. His wedded life an Eden bliss. Like Garfield, heard the bullets hiss, McKinley, O McKinley! Our Comrade slain, his trials cease, McKinley, O McKinley! God's servants true find heavenly peace, McKinley, O McKinley! His courage high when stricken down. His sterling worth no voices drown. Like Stephen, gain'd a martyr's crown, McKinley, O McKinley! APB 7 M^ Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Oct. 2009 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 (724) 779-2111 ...f'BRARy OF CONGRESS i" " \n