Class IP£S5Ii_ 
 Book, /)Tl?"7?5 ' 
 Goipglit}^? 
 
 CCBOilGHT DEPOSm 
 
jElitier fiepigon 
 and Ot'btv CoemsJ 
 
 By 
 
 jRohert Otoen pointer 
 
 Published 6y 
 A. C. Vroman, Inc. 
 
 PASADENA, CALIFORNIA 
 

 COPYRIGHT 1917 
 
 By MRS. ROBERT O, FOSTER 
 
 MINNEAPOLIS 
 
 FEB -7 i9i8 
 
 ©CI. 
 
 A49SlO!j 
 
 nM> I 
 
Grand, majestic river, sweeping 
 From the north in beauty's keeping, 
 
 Listen to my simple song. 
 It will tell the love I bear thee; 
 Tell the lesson thou hast taught me. 
 
 Tell thy courage, wondrous strong. 
 
 O'er the rocks thy voice is tragic, 
 Deep and thund'rous; and its magic 
 
 Awes, inspires, puts fear to rout; 
 Though at this thou dost not worry. 
 But, emerged from foam and flurry 
 
 Soon again dost laugh and shout. 
 
 Obstacles of huge dimension 
 Fill thy pathway with pretension. 
 
 Stern with strife and dark dismay. 
 Yet by this thou art the gainer; 
 For it shows thy dimples plainer 
 
 All along thy sparkling way. 
 
 Now and then, thy spirit slumbers; 
 Lol thy charms in countless numbers 
 
 Weave their soothing spell o'er life; 
 Sweet contentment comes a-stealing 
 O'er thy face, so fair, revealing 
 
 Perfect peace, no trace of strife. 
 
There is something in thy dashing. 
 Dancing waters, ever splashing. 
 
 That suggests eternal Spring. 
 They keep shouting, bounding, leaping. 
 While time, centuries, is reaping. 
 
 Still the same glad song they sing. 
 
 Grand old river, how I love thee I 
 How I love thy joyous medley 
 
 Bursting forth in happy song I 
 It brings peace in generous measure; 
 Brings back boyhood's spring of pleasure 
 
 When the days were young euid long. 
 
 Thy glad anthem will be ringing 
 In man's heart forever, bringing 
 
 Aspirations pure and high ; 
 Ages hence as he shall weinder 
 On thy banks, he'll muse and ponder 
 
 O'er thy grandeur, same as I. 
 
Voice of tlje Hepigon 
 
 By the river's rushing waters. 
 Flowing grandly to the sea, 
 
 I hear voices calling ever. 
 Ever calling soft to me. 
 
 Where its waters break in tumult. 
 
 In its rapids' sullen roar. 
 In the thunder of its whirlpools, 
 
 I can hear it o'er and o'er. 
 
 In its mood of rest and quiet. 
 Where its currents gently flow. 
 
 In the murmur of its ripples. 
 
 It calls "Mamie" sweet and low. 
 
 And the pines along its margin, 
 Tall, majestic, solemn, grand. 
 
 Whisper "Mamie" as their harpstrings 
 Are swept o'er by God's own hand. 
 
 When the first bright rays of morning. 
 Pierce the East in golden streams. 
 
 Music faint and rare calls "Mamie," — 
 Nature waking from her dreams. 
 
All day long, in rhythmic measure. 
 Sings the river this sweet lay. 
 
 Crooning, musing o'er my secret. 
 As it threads its winding w^ay. 
 
 And at eve the restless river 
 Still chants on the glad refrain, 
 
 While on high, with smiling favor. 
 Listening stars in splendor reign. 
 
 And her name to me is music. 
 Sweetest song on earth, by far. 
 
 And in doubt, in gloom or sorrow. 
 Is my hope, my guide, my star. 
 
t3rut(i 
 
 About five hundred thousand years ago. 
 According to the best of humain ken, 
 
 On mother earth, with reason weak and low. 
 Appeared the crude, primordial race of men. 
 
 These early, savage tribes, with vision small. 
 Performed their part in nature's drama long. 
 
 And vied with each the other to inthrall, 
 And make the weak a vassal to the strong. 
 
 The annals of these warring clans of men. 
 
 Their feuds, their conquests, their oppression 
 base. 
 
 Through the long flight of ages, now as then. 
 Besmirch the records of the human race. 
 
 The master work of man's impassioned brain. 
 The very breath of genius heaven-sent. 
 
 Fell prey to the remorseless thirst for gain. 
 And mortal power was to destruction lent. 
 
 The same relentless w^ars are waged today. 
 On more inhuman plans than e'er before. 
 
 By leaders of the highest cultural sway. 
 
 For same ignoble cause — the lust for more. 
 
Too many false, inconstant faiths, since man, 
 In doubt and fear, first marked time's rapid 
 flight. 
 
 Too little love of truth since he began 
 
 His weary toiling upward through the night. 
 
 To countless, unreal Gods he knelt in prayer. 
 While down the ages crept his bloody trail, 
 
 And importuned these myths of earth and air 
 To make his cause the cause that should 
 prevail. 
 
 Truth is the only shrine where man should kneel 
 And swear its sacred tenets to defend, 
 
 *Tis Truth, and Truth alone, that brings the 
 weal 
 That doth all other blessings far transcend. 
 
 When mankind knows this adage old, divine. 
 That God is Truth unto the very end. 
 
 Then will the warring nations seek that shrine, 
 And lol in truth shall man be man's best 
 friend. 
 
'Go a Uabp on B^r Qigfytittb 
 Bittdbap 
 
 Full four score years have come and gone 
 Since first God's sun your head shone on; 
 Yet, still within your heart reigns June 
 With all life's interests full in tune. 
 
 When duty calls, no way so long. 
 But gladly with a smile and song 
 The path with willing feet you tread. 
 By God's own hand securely led. 
 
 The changing years benignly bring 
 Into your heart youth's hopeful spring. 
 That ever hears through winter's gloom 
 The promise of the rosebud's bloom. 
 
 A lesson to us all you teach. 
 
 That aids our yearning souls to reach 
 
 Those longed-for heights, from where you see 
 
 Life's real and true philosophy. 
 
t5t)e liififtt of preebom 
 
 Seel the Light of Freedom gilds the land and seal 
 How it thrills the nations 1 How it stirs the free: 
 Higher, higher mounting, sacred Flame of Right, 
 Light earth's darkest corners with thy radiance 
 bright. 
 
 In the coming splendor of thy gracious sway 
 Falsehood and oppression shall for Truth make way; 
 Mighty in thy edict of just rights for all. 
 Mankind, free and grateful, shall thee savior call. 
 
 As God's sun eternal smiles upon the rose. 
 And to every blossom equal favor shows. 
 So brave Light of Freedom shine for mortals all. 
 And with even measure let thy blessings fall. 
 
t3o JOr- QbtDarb E- Hnsle 
 
 Dear old friend of long ago. 
 Just a word to let you know 
 That 1 still recall the joys 
 Which were yours and mine as boys. 
 Oh, those olden, golden ties I 
 What a wealth of promise lies 
 In the rapture of the themes 
 That we weave in youthful dreams. 
 Have our vows to make a name, 
 That might justly honors claim. 
 Been fulfilled? Is worth our own? 
 Have we reaped as we have sown? 
 
 Have w^e won or have we lost? 
 
 Ah, the struggle. Ah, the cost 
 
 Of the goal that now is ours; 
 
 Late and early, hour by hours. 
 
 Day by days and year by years. 
 
 Yearning, striving, without tears 
 
 Have we fought to hold the prize 
 
 Once so dear to boyish eyes. 
 
 Yes, we've won; the vision bright 
 
 Takes the form of life and light 
 
 Of our being, rich w^ith sense 
 
 That ours is ours through recompense. 
 
In the pride of manhood's sway 
 Let us not forget the way 
 Which our feet have plodded o'er. 
 Bleeding, tired, bruised and sore. 
 Let us rather make this path 
 Less exposed to winds of wrath 
 That from Fate's dread caverns creep 
 And o'er helpless mortals sweep. 
 Let us help them up the height. 
 Let us guide them through the night 
 Of their troubles, to the dawn 
 Fortune's sun is smiling on. 
 
 Let us hold with bands of steel 
 Every hope that true hearts feel 
 For the friends of springtime's youth- 
 Boyhood friends are friends in truth. 
 Let us keep their mem'ry green, 
 Let no strife e'er come between, 
 And a helping hand extend 
 When in stress they need a friend. 
 So, old chum of long ago. 
 Just these lines to let you know 
 That my heart still sings the praise 
 Of the friend of other days. 
 
I Mom 
 
 **I will** shall be our watchword; 
 
 We will make it stronger grow. 
 As long as life's left in us, 
 
 As long as brave hearts know 
 That for every true endeavor. 
 
 That for every honest try, 
 A recompense is waiting 
 
 For the man of do or die. 
 
 **I will** w^e*ll keep a-saying, 
 
 And repeat it o*er and o*er. 
 Till grim determination 
 
 Is ours for evermore. 
 We will keep this slogan ringing. 
 
 Till its spirit, good and strong. 
 Filters into each life*s purpose. 
 
 Is a part of each heart's song. 
 
**I will be strong and manly, 
 
 I will be brave and true, 
 I will make life worth living, 
 
 I will be God's true blue.** 
 We have the satisfaction 
 
 Of knowing, soon or late, * 
 That the law of justice ever 
 
 Will our efforts compensate. 
 
 For the Hand that sways the lilies, 
 
 "Stills the storms" on land and sea. 
 Paints the colors in the rainbow. 
 
 Plants the flowers on mount and lea. 
 Is the Hand that metes out justice; 
 
 Makes it plain and clear as day. 
 That each good and true endeavor 
 
 Shall receive in full its pay. 
 
peberatfon of tfte "Worlb 
 
 In war's sky Faith's star of Freedom 
 Brightly beams in darkest gloom. 
 
 Through the mists of doubt it glimmers, 
 Lo, Hope's wondrous flowers bloom. 
 
 And their perfume calls to being 
 Noble love born to forgive, 
 
 Thrilling hearts with lofty promise, 
 That the Truth at last shall live. 
 
 Now the nations clash in fury. 
 And forget, as common clan, 
 
 That as comrades, they should labor 
 For the brotherhood of man. 
 
 Seel they trample Truth and Reason 
 In the dust before God's throne. 
 
 All-forgetful that tomorrow 
 
 For their deeds they must atone. 
 
 Blindly led by superstition. 
 Cringing to a doubtful creed. 
 
 Can there be but little wonder 
 
 They are drunk with spoil and greed ? 
 
All progression in creation 
 
 Has been wrought in travail sore, 
 Nature labored, and the mountain 
 
 Graoid, majestic, lofty, bore. 
 
 Man into this world of beauty 
 
 Came in childbirth's stress and pain- 
 Birth of Universal Freedom 
 
 Must be fraught with Spartan strain. 
 
 The democracy of nations, 
 
 Mankind's common weal for all 
 
 Will arise from out wars* carnage. 
 Truth shall Peace and Love install. 
 
 Truth, supreme and universal. 
 
 Rising clear man's doubt above. 
 Shall tell sordid sons of battle 
 
 To remember, "God is Love." 
 
 Truth and Love at last will triumph. 
 And their Banners be unfurled 
 
 Over one united people. 
 Federation of the world. 
 
H t3oaj!t 
 
 In sparkling water, pure and clear, 
 I drink thy health, my love, my dear, 
 A symbol of my love for thee 
 And for thy maiden purity. 
 
 While other friends may drink to thee 
 In mellow wines from o'er the sea, 
 I choose the drink that makes the dew. 
 The dew, like thee, so pure and true. 
 
Queen of TX7alitin=B^im 
 
 Where the brightest flowers blossom. 
 And the birds' sweet voices chime 
 
 With the waves soft, rhythmiic singing. 
 Lives the Queen of Wabun-Heim. 
 
 She is queen to all who know her. 
 And she rules with magic sway 
 
 By the beauty of her presence 
 And her gentle, winning way. 
 
 May her reign be true and noble. 
 
 Filling hearts with thoughts sublime; 
 
 May her name be long remembered, 
 Mamie, Queen of Wabun-Heim. 
 
©aloma 0treet 
 
 There's a dear, little street 
 
 In a fair, distant land. 
 Nestling close at whose feet 
 
 Sings the old ocean grand. 
 And the song that it sings. 
 
 Dreamy lore from the west. 
 To the heart sweetly brings 
 
 Soothing sleep, peace, and rest. 
 
 And the soft, balmy air. 
 
 And the lilt of the song 
 O'er wave-kissed Paloma 
 
 Hover day and night long. 
 Lo, a charm from this street 
 
 Thrills to life mem'ries blest; 
 O'er the miles visions fleet 
 
 Of the ones 1 love best: 
 
Of brave lads, all replete 
 
 With the hope of life's morn. 
 And a lass, pure and sweet 
 
 As the rose newly born. 
 There's a face in this dream. 
 
 Bright with earth's noblest love; 
 *Tis the grand, mother-theme 
 
 Handed down from above. 
 
 With this light in her eyes. 
 
 And the bairns by her side. 
 She can see where hope lies 
 
 Over God's great divide. 
 So, shall love lead my feet 
 
 To the true mother, fair. 
 To the dear, little street, — 
 
 Lo, she waits for me there. 
 
On Hilt'si @ea 
 
 Softly blow, fair winds of Heaven I 
 Baby's bark is on Life's sea; 
 
 Outward bound the tiny voyager 
 Trusts implicitly in Thee. 
 
 Rock the snowy sail with zephyrs, 
 
 Fresh from morning's hopeful dawn; 
 
 Whisper to it, breathing promise 
 Of bright skies, fair days unborn. 
 
 With caresses soft and balmy 
 
 Waft this precious bark, so dear. 
 
 Over waters ever sun-kissed. 
 
 Where no storms are ever near. 
 
 Guide it over smiling billows. 
 And, as stars set watch above. 
 
 Land it safely in the harbor 
 
 Of Contentment, Peace and Love. 
 
Kennetd 
 
 Little boy with eyes of brown, 
 June's the month you came to town; 
 June, when nature's smile, so rife. 
 Wooes the roses back to life. 
 
 Keep your June-day smile alway. 
 It will help you, night and day. 
 To smooth out life's wrinkles deep. 
 Help you climb the mountain steep. 
 
 Little Kenneth, child of joy. 
 As you journey from a boy 
 To your goal, o'er all the miles. 
 Keep, Oh keep, your sunny smiles. 
 
 Take a leaf from nature's book; 
 Note her wisdom; cast a look 
 At the logic of her ways; 
 She has bright and rainy days. 
 
 When she weeps her tears bring cheer 
 To the thirsty millions here; 
 Now she smiles, Lo I wonders grand 
 Spring to life o'er all the land. 
 
 There will be, my Kenneth true. 
 Bright and rainy days for you; 
 Keep your smile; its sunshine bright 
 Shall turn to day the darkest night. 
 
There's a name that's sweeter far. 
 Sweeter than the evening star 
 When it lends its radiance bright 
 To the wiles of witching night; 
 Or the lark in shadowy vale. 
 Or the song of nightingale; 
 Or the first faint blush of dawn 
 Making love to June day's morn 
 As the drowsy, dewy rose 
 O'er the air its perfume throws. 
 
 Oh I that name of names, so dear. 
 Would ye know it? Would ye hear 
 How I came to love it well? 
 Here's the secret I will tell; 
 Mary is my pride, my dream. 
 And to me all others seem 
 Not so sweet, by many a mile. 
 No such dimples, no such smile. 
 No such eyes of wondrous brown 
 In whose depths all troubles drown. 
 No such hair of wavy curl, — 
 Mary's daddy's little girl. 
 
Here's to Owen Otto Swahn, 
 
 Mama's darling boy, 
 Let us drink a brimming cup. 
 
 Running o'er with joy. 
 
 I can hear Dame Fortune call, 
 Calling soft and sweet. 
 
 Telling of the wondrous paths. 
 Best for baby's feet. 
 
 And her call with hope is thrilled. 
 
 For I know she hears 
 Voices of admiring friends, 
 
 Through the coming years, 
 
 Telling of his noble deeds. 
 Almost from life's dawn. 
 
 Honors won, fame achieved by 
 Owen Otto Swahn. 
 
Our Qountrp QaUsil 
 
 Our country calls! Awake I Arise I 
 Ye sons of liberty, 
 
 And gather * round the Stars and Stripes 
 The emblem of the free. 
 
 Our country calls! O native sons, 
 Born under skies so fair. 
 The skies wherein Old Glory reigns. 
 Help thou to keep it there. 
 
 Our country calls! O aliens true. 
 Ye sons of other climes. 
 Who live beneath our starry flag. 
 Make it thy flag betimes. 
 
 Our country calls! O neutrals fair, 
 Who claim just rights for all, 
 Thy sense of fairness now should be 
 To heed the nation's call. 
 
 Our country calls! 'Tis freedom's cry 
 That rings from o'er the sea. 
 Her clarion voice around the earth 
 Proclaims Man Shall Be Free. 
 
 From far and near, from hill and dale. 
 From palace, hut and hall. 
 Ye sons of freemen, Hark! To arms! 
 It is Our Country's Call.