Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1871-05-09
sh 6tR Vol. %, NO. 8.
LID.
BT RALPH EoYr.

By the waysde, on a messy stone,
sat a hoary pilgrim, sadly musing;
OF I marked him sitting there alone,
All the landscape like page perusing;
Poor unknown
BY the wayside, on a messy stone.
Buckled knee and shoe and broad rimm'd hat,
Coat AS ancient as the form twas folding
Silver buttons, queue and crimpt cIavat
Oaken staff his feeble hands upholding,
There he sat
Buckled knee and shoe, and broad -rimmd hat
Seemed it Iitiful he should sit there,
No one sympathizing, no one needing,
None to love him for his thin grey hair,
And the burrows all SO mutely pleading
Age and care;
Seemed il pitiful no should sit there,
IL was Summer, and we went to school
Dapper country lads and little maidens
Taught the motto Of the Ounces Stool"
It's grave import still my fancy ladens
"uE rs A fOoL!n
IL was summer, and we went to school
When the stranger seem'd to mark our play,
Some Of us were joyous, some sad hearted,
remember well,-too well-that dayl
Oltentimes the tears unbidden started,
Would not stay
When the stranger seemd TO mark our play.
one sweet spirit broke the silent spell,
An, TO me her name always Heaveni
She besought him all his griefs TO tell,
Il was thirteen, and she eleven.
Isabel
One sweet spirit broke the silent spell
Angel, said he sadly, am old;
Earthly hope no longer hath morrow,
Yet why sit here thou shalt be told
Then his eye betrayed pearl OF SORROW
Down it r-o-i-ld!
Angel, said he sadly, am old
have totter'd here 10 look once more
On the pleasant scene whore delighted
In the careless, happy days Of yore,
Ere the garden ofmy heart was blghted
To the eore
l have totter'd here to look once more
All the picture now TO me how dearl
Fen this grey old rock where | am seated
Is jewel worth my journey here;
All, that such scene should be completed
With a tearl
All the picture now to me how dear
Old stone school house l--it IS still the same
There's the very step 50 oft mounted;
There's the window creaking in its frame,
Aud the notches that l cut and counted
For the game;
In the cottage yonder, was born;
Long my happy home-that humble dwelling
There the fields Of clover, wheat, and corn,
There the spring with limpd nectar yelling:
All, forlornl
In the cottage yonder. 1 was born.
Those two gateway sycamores you see,
Then we're planted, just so far asunder
That long well pole from the path to free,
And the wagon TO pass safely under;
Ninety three
Those two gateway sycamores you see
There's the orchard where we used 70 climb
When nv mates and were boys together,
Thinking nothing of the flight Of time,
Fearing naught save work and rainy weather.
Past its primei
There's the orchard where We used to climb
There, the rude. three-cornerd chestnut rails,
Round the pasture where the hocks were graz
Where, so sly used to watch for quails Tins
In the crops OF buckwheat we were raising,
Traps aud trails!
There the rude, three corner'd chestnut rails.
There's the mill that ground our yellow grain;
Pond and river still serenely flowing;
Cot, there nesting in the shaded lane,
Where the lily Of my heart was blowing
MARY JANE
There's the mill that ground our yellow grain
There's the gate on which used to swing
Brook, and bridge and barn, and old red stable
But alas no more the morn shall bring
That dear group around my fathers table;
Taken wing
There's the gate on which US cd to swing
am fleeing all loved are fed
Yon green meadow was our place for playing
That old tree can tell ofswcet things said,
when around il Jane and were straying
She is dead
/ am fleeing all loved are fed
Yon white spire. pencil on the sky,
Tracing silently life's changeful story,
So familiar TO nay dim old eye,
Points me 10 seven that are now in glory
There on high
Yon white spire, pencil on the sky
OFT the aisle Of that old church we trod,
Guided thither by angel mother;
Now she sleeps beneath the sacred SOD,
Sire and sisters, and my little brother;
Gone to God
OFT the aisle Of that old church we trod
There heard of Wisdoms pleasant ways
Bless the holy lesson but an, never
Shall hear again those songs OF praise
Those sweet voices ;--silent now forever
Peaceful daysl
There heard Of Wisdom's pleasant ways
There my MARY blest me with her hand,
When our souls drank in tn nuptial blessing,
Fro she FASTENED 10 the spirit land
Yonder turf her gentle bosom pressing;
Broken bandl
There my MARY blest me with her hand
l have come to see that grave once more,
And the sacred place where we delighted,
Where we worshipped in the days OF yore,
Ere the garden Of my heart was blghted
To the corei
have come TO see that grave once more.
Angel said he sadly. am old
Earthly hope no longer hath "A morrow
Now, Why sit here thou hast been told
In his eye another pearl OF SORROW
Down Il r o.l.l-e-dl
Angel said he sadly, am old
BY the wayside, on messy stone,
Sat the hoary pilgrim, sadly musing
Still marked him, sitting there alone,
All the landscape like page perusing
Poor unknown,
By the wayside, on messy stone.