Ashtabula telegraph. (Ashtabula, Ohio) 1874-1880, 1877-07-20
THE FORTY YEARS.

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THE FORTY YEARS.
! Hail to thee, auspicious number!
Sage and bard thy tale have told;
WondrOus stories. strange and thrilling,
Through the ages ne'er grown old.
Round thee cluster sacred memories
Intertwined by Gods command,
Through the Book that has been gwen u
Written by the Fathers hand.
Term of trial and probation,
Time Of danger and of fear,
When Gods chosen ones are moulded
Perfectly to fit their sphere.
Forty morns and forty evenings
Rain WAS shed upon the earth;
Cleansed from all her imperfeetiOns,
Came she as from higher birth.
Glance again past obscure ages,
Where Gods light shines from above
On his ancient chosen servant,
Man Of meekness and OF love.
Three times forty years God gave him,
Fitting for peculiar needs;
And from out the fiery ordeal
Issued brave and wOndrOus deeds.
Get thee to the land of Midian,
Comes the mandate from on high.
And the way I've marked out for thee,
Will be shown thee, by and by.
All the years he waits and wonders,
But the Father bids him. "Hushr'
And he's silent till Jehovah
Calls him in the burning bush.
Forty years of preparation
Have been given for the strife;
Now has come my last commandment,
The great mission of thy life.
Thou shalt lead my chosen people,
Guided ever by my hand,
Through the barren, dreary desert,
Safe unto the promised land.
Forty years then Israel wandered
Back and forth in devious way,
God was with them in the fire
Nightly, and the cloud by day.
Forty days of Lenten sorrow
By our suffering Saviour trod,
Then our glorious Easter Sunday
Sends its radiance all abroad.
Forty years have cast their shadows
Since two women, weak indeed,
As the world would e'er consider,
Simple followers in Gods lead,
Entered on a noble purpose
Which grew brighter, every day,
Till from it have many daughters
Gained some bright, inspiring ray.
Forty years! does it seem tedious,
Think YOU all was dark and drear,
Always signing, never singing,
Faith all overcome by fear?
List! and you can hear the music
Rolling through the forty years;
Faint at first but e'er increasing,
Till it chimes in with the spheres.
Look! and 10, massive building,
Filled with treasures of high art,
Raised by strong, unfiinching effort
Of brave and noble heart.
Forty times the earth has travelled
In its orbit round the sun;
Forty times our Alma Mater
Steadily her course has run;
Forty times has sown and watered,
Patient waiting cOnquering strife;
Forty times has sent forth women
Girded for the work of life.
Shall we not all gather round her
On this anniversary day;
Each one bring with us our tribute,
Though in small and feeble way?
Who but God can ever measure
All the seed that has been sown.
Even though all the world neglect her,
He will ne'er forget His own.
He, at once, could lift the shadows,
Scatter every cloud away,
And, from out the Pickering twilight,
Bring glad and perfect day.
Yet he scorns not our assistance,
Poor and feeble though it be,
But for every small endeavor,
Will reward immeasurably.
Floods will no more overwhelm US,
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For beyond each threatening storm-cloud
Shines the rainbow in the sky.
And though like the ancient patriarch,
She who's now our guide and stay,
May by Gods divine commandment
In the clouds be snatched away.
He will guide the falling mantle
Till it rest upon some soul
Who will wear it proudly, bravely,
Through the ages as they roll.
And down from a higher Pisgah
Than the one where Moses stood,
She shall view our land of Canaan
And shall know that it is good.
Yet to grander fields of glory
Would she bid our souls aspire;
From the battlements of heaven
Beckoning, "Children, come up higherI"