St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1872-05-03

Could beat pulse =" cold
1t would not quicken I" the strains,
The flying. fiery strains that tell
How Romans kept the bridge 50 well
In the brave days of old"
The while listened till my blood
Plunged in the poets martial mood,
Rushed in my veins like wine.
prayed-t" One who hears-I wis
Give me one breath Of power like this
To sing of rittston mine F.
\ child looks up the ragged shaft,
\ boy whose mcagrr frame
Shrnks as he hears the roaring drau.ht
That feeds the eager flame.
He has a single chance, the stakes
OF life show death at hay
One moment then his comradc takes
The hope he casts away.
For while his trembling hand is raised
And while his sweet eyes shine
There swrlls above the love OF life
The rush of love divine
The thought of those unwarned, t" whom
Death steals along the mine.
oh little Martin Craghanl
rrck not if You sworr,
Like P0rsena of Clusum.
By Gods of mythic lore;
But well | wecn great IL heart
Beat your small bosom sore
And that your bare brown feet scarce felt
The way they bounded Ger.
| know You We're a hero then.
Whatc'rr you We're before,
\ nd in Gods sight Nour tlyinT feet
Made white the cavern floor.
The while he speeds that darksome way
Hope paints upon his fears
Soft visions of the light of day;
Faint songs of birds he hears;
In summer breeze his tangled cur-
Are blown about his ears.
He sees the men; he warns and now,
His duty bravely done,
Sweet hope may paint the fairest scene
That spreads beneath the sun.
Back to the burning shaft he flies
There-bounding pulses fail
The light f"rsakes his lifted eyes
The glowing cheek is pale.
With wheeling, whirling, hungry flame
The scethinE shaft is riff;
Where solid chains drip liquid fire,
What chance for human life
To die with those he hoped to save,
Back back, through heat and gl""m-
To find a wall and Death and he
shut in the larger tomb,
He pleaded to be- taken i'll
As closer rolled the smoke;
In deathful vap"rS they could hear
His pitcou- accents choke.
And they, with shaking voice. refused
And then the Young heart broke.
q love of life God made il strong
And knows how close il pressed;
And death to those who love life least
Is scarce a welcome guest.
One Thought of the poor wife, whose head
Last night lay on his breast
y quiver runs through lips that morn
By childrens lips caressed.
These things-the sweet strong thoughts of HON
Though hut a wrctchcd place,
To which the sad-eyed miners come
With Labnr'S laggard pace
Remembered in the cavern gloom,
Hume the haggard face.
Illumrd their faces, stecled each heart
oh God! what mysteries
Of brave and base make sum and part
OF human histories!
What will not thy poor creatures Il"
To buy an hour of breath
Well for all some souls are true
Above the fear of death
He wcpt a little for they heard
The sound of sohs the sghs
That brrathrd of mart yrdom complet"
Unseen of mortal eyes:
And then II" longer swift his feet
Passed down the galleries
He crept and cr"uchrd beside his mule
Led 10y his dying moan;
He touched il f-rhly with hand
That shook like pasys own.
God grant the touch had power To make
The child feel less alone,
Who knoweth every heart, He knows
What moved the boyish mind;
What longings grew to passion thrors
For dear ones left behind:
How hardly youth and youths desires
Their hold of life resigned.
Perhaps the little fellow felt
As brave Horatius thought,
When for those dearer Roman lives
He held his own naught.
For how could boy die better
Than facing fearful fires
To save poor women's husbands
And helpless chldren's sires
Death leaned upon him heavily;
But Love, more mighty still
She lent him slender lease of life
To work her tender will.
lie felt with sightless sentient hand
Along the wall and ground,
And there the rude and simple page
For his sweet purpose found.
O'erwritten with the names he loved
Clasped 10 his little side,
Dim eyes the wooden record read
Hours after he had died.
Thus, from all knowledge of his kind
In darkness lone and vast,
From life to death from death to life
The little hero passed
And while they listened for the feet
That would return no more
Far off they fell in music sweet
Upon another shore.
-Hdrpers Magazine for April
The Green Bay Advocate says that
seems as if the disastrous fires whiC
swept over that region last Octob'
had become so deeply seated that the
never can be eXtinguished. Smol
may still he seen issuing from ii
ground where the SNOW is melted off
many places.
Two shOemakers out in compan
were asked their profession. Says OF
of them, II practice the heeling art
"And l." says the other, ''labOr for IL
good of mems soles."