Rocky Mountain husbandman. [volume] (Diamond City, Mont.) 1875-1943, 1876-06-15
THE HOME ClRCLB'...
"AD AMIGOS"
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i1 "'1tii+ .f@5 Il' n - G7'H@t3ut 9Hf Ujtf
-Iq.g1. s4~ 1s2s--Is7e. ISL .-aHeid 1Us
q Dumouc 7,ire,,t ne,,,o ''
04- Et decnt obducta ~sotvofur frontc s~eaectus. n.lf .8
The; muse of boyhood's feryidl hour irf 7-et7 10
Grows tame rs skies get chill and hazy; ~ e.e
Where once she sought q passion flow err, -.,..
She only hopes to find a daisy. w; 4'' "
Well, who the changing world bewails I? LIZA
Who asks to have it stay u~naltered q .G l4#
Shall grown-up kittens chase their tails ? Nm 27gl5
7"" . =" ~ ~ "ESY''"f ssnno' 9 ! hal'efe0s a42dmsn
Are we '.the boys'' that used to make tiug II hIs
The tables ring with noisy follies : 4. af+{2
Whose deep lung'd laughter oft would shake w.,
The ceiling with its thnndor-volleys?
Arc We the youths with lips uu1nshpornn, '"'' WI" -'
EAtbeauty' S feet unwsirinkled %s,,itors.l pi raA w
WhDseInenaories read traditions morn G$GQIr
The days of prehistoric tutors 2 IN. lytiay, .-.f
''The boys WI knew-bu who arc these iA]
Whose. heads might serve for Plutarcll's sages, 2
Or Fox martyrs, if you please, -~alo goas+9
Or he11nits of the dismal ages? rst.stf. .5
The boys we knew-can these be those
Their checks with morning blush were painted ;
Where are the Harrys, Jims and Jocs @''S"NPl+
With whom we once were well acquainted? .Wi
IL W. go SASy : w y lAOU WIN SNlAG .- .t-s
If they IRE we, why then they re masking;
Do tell us, ~neighbor What's your name, .F2
Who are you?--What' - the use Of nsking ?tiE
You once Were George, or Bill, or Ben; s3 pnol
There's you, yourself-there's you, that other, 90,
know you now--I knew you then
You used to be your younger brother!
You both are all our own to-day III fteItgglnsHa}
But All! | heara warning whisper;t t7a .,eyt4 81.
Yon roseate hour that fits away
j" Repeats, the Roman s sad p%auiisper. ="
Come back! come back! we've need of you t3a5 ~
To pay yotlfor your word of warning; 9ea4 Hf
Wen bathe your wings in brighter dew f32 vae-
Than ever wet the lids Of morning. ~ yyte
Behold this cup; this mystic wine ..4a4 424sz[ ~
No ALIENS lip has eyer tasted; fs eIygI'N9 u
The blood of friendship $ elingingj vine, rf 17{sff
Still flowing, flowing, yet unwasted; l4otdru4 !,
Old forgot his running sand '1''1
% And laid his hour-glassd down to fiji it.. iF~4'f'
And Death himself with gentle hand t2 tIGb 4-
: Has touched the %eaalice, not to spillit .ada aaab'
Each bubble rounding at the brim ~
Istfain,ow wed with its magic istory;;932. ~
Tho shining days with age grown dim PIP Esd ss9f
Are dressed again in robes of glory; lad hstljn
In all his freshness spring returns, .gIft44# t,s5df
With song of birds and blossoms tender;
Once more the torch Of passion burns, '9"@
W And youth Is here in all Its splendor!3 f'97r
.'@es>os,
Hope swings her anchor like q toy, sa.fssss a'rt,
Love laughs and shows the silver arrow Ia
We knew SO well as man and boy ~ "t
The shaft that stings through bone and nlsrrow;
Again our kindling pulses beat,a 3N l7ef3a@ rltf
~ With tangled cnrls our fingers daily, fsI5Itg3f4
And. bygone beauties smile as sweet a., #.s -ffis
AS tresh-blown lilies of the valley.
o blessed hour! VIC may forget a4il fg#H ai3t41
Its wreaths, its, rhymes, its songs, It's laughter,
But not the loving eyes we met, .sS.4,
Whose light shall gid the dim hereafter.
How every heart to each grows warn. 5'k9 500
ia one i'm sunshine slway?f We share it, 1.
Is one in sorrows blinding storm?s#6aa Gesft3H
A look, afYord shall help him bearit,88i 4tafoe
e boys Hswerwere, - the boys ,, we'll be A143
As long MS three, MS two. are creeping: 1852 I6
Then here's to him-ah! which is he?- Skt8 SITS
Who lives till all the rest are slceping;JeI af
A. life with tranquil comfort blcst, 80
THE young man 5 health, the rich man plenty
J All earth,c;m give that earth has Best, 5l4a3l* ~
And Heaven atfourscorc years and twenty. o9
taara -ctiuer Wendell Holmes IN March Atlantice
{ Written for the Rocky Mountain HuJbandm an.
13a9d ef lis 81 GOODBYE. hf0 JiEfla ere
Whittier has said that 81 9H1o2 motif Z p
51ft.Qg all the words of tongue or pen, ~.4ell@#
The saddest are these, : it might have been; ~
but, surely, they are not lmofes burdenedl Wit
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