The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1877-08-18
The poem Is as follows

he poem Is as follows
To each and all assembled here
An earnest welcome and good cheer
One year has fed since last we met
To take each other by the hand.
The time is brief indeed. and yet
We miss the touch of many hand,
And many face, so well we knew.
Of old time friend, so good and true.
We look for them, but look in vain.
At mcm'ries only they remain.
Full time the auspcous day affords
For courtcsies and friendly words.
Old loyers--in their lives complete
With still remembered pleasure meet.
Old rival.-now In better moods
Laugh DER their long forgotten feuds.
Old neighhors pass the hours away
With thrilling stories of their day.
While each TO each accords his place,
With old time charity and grace,
In kindhess, now, they magnify
The virtues and the courtesy
OF those who In the Church-yards lie.
Though rapidly the Oh rccedes,
Ils heroes and heroic deeds,
It's hopes and fears, its joy and grief,
Combine to give it bold relief
II rises largely on the sight
An old but ever new delight,
A monument with front sublime.
Wrapt in the rose-tlush of Its time,
Wherein are images so fair
They seem like heralds on the air.
Proclaiming through the years afar
The prophecy Of UhW re are
Diyining thus. the older sagcs
Forecast the fate of future ages
The Rude Heroic of their time,
Though half monster in its crime,
Was given as the basic plan
And model Of the future Man,
In parting with the Old of course
We lost a large amount OF force,
Refined TO weakness, took high places,
And ranked ourselves among the GraCes,
Forgetting. suddenly, the friends
Through whom We thus attained our ends.
How can we dream of cabin glories
When marble fronts of seven stories
Rise up before IL in their beauty
And claim our worship as n dutyg
How cdH we spare our concert evenings
To talk of linsey-woolscy weaving.
While grand pianos in our room
Csurp the honors of the loom:
How ddfe our strongest Hercules
Insult our modern OmphalCs
who neither spin nor pay the tax
With distaif and wisp of flax,
When pull-hacks aye 20 neat fit
That ladies have scarce room for wits
But those who linger with rs yet,
Who area tie past, do they forget:
Some how think the loom and wheel
Are Twin. things that think and feel
The idle loom in silence dreams
Ofher whose voice IL understood,
Whose hand-tOuch sanctifcd its beams
And sent thrill through all its wood.
The haXen threads orr mothers spun
In endless beauty ever run
Through all their lives-thc silver chains
Along whose lines. in pleading strains,
The music of the wheel complains
No. no! our grandsires love them yet.
'Twere sacrilege To now forget
The humble means that made them great
And kept the honor Of the St?i'..
Their strength. their glory ana their pride,
The firm foundations. deep and wide,
OF civil life and social Joy
ram. labor ceaselc.s sHfrgy.
PrtCdfiOE, dqHqer. y,giiGHce.
Broad views Of right and-cOmmOa sense.
We little heed and scarcely see
The uses of the hour.
While they are making history
And move the world with magic power.
No divination can foretcll
The working of the mystic spell
BY which a simple word or deed
Let iall. with neither Will or heed
Through years OF rapid movement hurled.
May shape an ace or mould a world.
Small things. unnuticcd in their day
Familiar trihcs in their way,
VIII grow in greatness on Ourcycs
And. like implurinc spirit- rice.
Reach toward a. with their pleading hands
And all the power that love commands:
Ave. cGH 10 us in words 20 dear
That every accent J. tear.
Whose smile j. like fond carc-s
And every touch a tender kiss
The nine patch on our gran mas Quilt.
Her name. carved on q sword hilf.
The quaint old buckles on her shoes.
Though dull with age and worn with use,
The chair in which our grand ire lat,
His wig. hi cane. hiS bcll-crowu hat.
Each one. aud an. endowed with speech.
In earnest walls uur love hc-ecCh.
Did he who rcluTenfly ATE
His meals upon peUter plate
Imagine that nj dish would b.
y shrine Wboec memory could kEcel
And worship with a love a. Teal
AZ any dcv0tee can feel
Who stOops 10 kiss the HOfy CrrEP
How little could the tailor note
Who fashioned Israel Putnam's coat
\ buttons yalue-morc OF less
Apart from all the herus dress
To him the value Wa hut small
II bad is u-e. and that wa an
But now that button 4 q shrine.
A sacred thing. almost divine.
The mirror Of an .rg passed.
Wherein We see - IN a .lass.
It. heroes and heroic time.
The dccfls that rfaflc its aec s~bi'rnc.