The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-07-05
IF Mormon temples proudly kiss the skvi
In Gods name lust, in Freedoms garments Grim
RELIGION haskinp in q harnio's slima


In Gods name lust in Freedoms garments crime
Religion basking in bagnios slime!
Not long" you say, ''shall it be thus; not long,
The righteous are slow. but they lon-strong.
Glad IN the power of the ancient Word
The remnant of the army of the Lord
Shall yet prevail and march from to sea-
Proclaimng the last and sweetest jubilee.
Words; naught but words! Fine phrasing of lie.
Mean dallyng with dark inouity!
Better again the power of higher law
The thunders of Gettysburg and Kennesaw
Than LET the blot upon shield remain
That outraged innocence cried to US in vain!
We must not temporize. It's day-dawn now;
glory burns upon the mountains brow
Come let US keep so far before the
That lives IN freshest paths shall run.
Come let us sing upon the utmost rim
OF furthest faith in twilight cool and DIM
Let us keep young, be pure and thus be strong.
Ever at day break comes the freshest song
Come feel the impulse of unclouded hope,
The thrill of vision taking broader scoDel
No dream of afternoon, no starborn trance,
No longing for the days of old romance;
But gadness of discovery seas
The and Zest of clean realities,
The sharp delight in keener. purer air
Whose every watt makes life more sweet and fair!
The day break of true chivalry Is now;
And every knight is ready for the
The thought of women suppant and pale
Calls for more effort than the Holy Grail
How sha our flag by Freedoms breath unfurled
Greet LIBERTY ENLIGHTENING THE WORLD!
towards. The brazen image at glance
Shall see the craven in each countenance!
The torch it bears in its uplifted hand
Shall not make light the Shame-spot our land.
Day break, indeed. The midnight is not past.
Freedom. forsoothi Not while yon temples last!
Enlightenment Our bitter inland sea
Gives back the word in shameless mockery!
But dawn will come; feel the fresher air.
The good Is gathering vgOr everywhere
Thrills Of sympathy leap around the world,
One by the pirate flags fured
And one by one the plague spots fade away,
And hdeous idols crum bic into clay!
Sometime our garments may be free from stain.
Our paths may lead through Paradise again.
But not until the Spirit and the Word
Have filed the world, and every has heard
The trump of Freedom at the break of day
Blowing the walls of Jericho away.
All. then what fie Ids of promise we shall view!
How (sandal.deep in grass and fragrant dew,
While life steals into everything,
And once again the stars swing low and sine)
Shall we, beyond where angels feet have trod,
Walk, in the cool. sweet morning tide, with God
Another feature was poem by Joaquin Mil
Ter, descriptive of Horace Greeley's famous ride
with Hank Monk, as follows:
The old stage-drivers of the brave old days
The old stage drivers with their dash and trust!
These old stage drivers they have gone their ways
But their deeds live on, though their bones are
dust;
And still many a campfire tale is told
Ot these daring men III the days of goid
OF honest old Monk and his Tally Ho,
The high Serras with their peaks of snow,
And cross to Nevada, and come in on time"
But the canyons below were SO deep-Oh, so deep
And the summit above was so steep-Oh. so steep.
The horses were foaming. The summit ahead
Was as steep as the stars on still clear night
And sleeper, and sleeper the narrow route led,
Till up to the peaks of perpetual white,
But the faithful old Monk with his face to the snow
Sat silent and stern his Tally H0.
Sat silent and still, and sat faithful and true
To the great good man in his charge that day;
Sat vowing the and the mail must go through
On time, though he bursted both trace and stay;
Sat silently vowing, in face of the snow;
But the way was so steep. and SO sow-Oh so slow!
The bleak pines we're black; the bright silver peaks
Were silver worlds, singing of heaven and home;
Great eagles swooped by. with bright, shiny beaks
The far waters called from their canyons of foam
Then sudden out-popping head snowy white
Mr. Monk must lecture in Nevada tonight
With Just thought that the mail must go through;
With just one word to the great good man
But weary-so wearythe stage wheels drew
As only the weary old stage wheels can
When again shot tho head, and it shreked outright:
Mr.. Monk must lecture i'll Nevada to night
Just then the summit! And tho world below
1t was Hank Monks world. But he no word spake
He pushed back his hat from the high peaks of snow
He threw out his foot to the great strong brake.
He threw out his silk He threw out his reins
And the great wheels reeled if rceng off skeins
The eagles were lost in the crags up above!
The horses flew swift the swift light of morn.
The mail must go through with its message of love;
The miners waiting his bright bugle horn.
The man mu st go through! And Monk made VOW
AS he never had failed, why he wouldn't fail now!
How his stage spun the peaks like far spiders web
1t was spider and fly in the heavens up there;
And the s1iftswrling wheels made the blood how and
ebb.
For twas death in the breath of wheel or hair
And SO out popped the head, and the piping voice
Mr. Monk! Mr. Monk" But no Monk replied.
Then the great stage swung if swung from the sky;
Then it dipped like ship in the deep jaws of death;
Then the good man he gasped as men gaspng for
breath
When they deem it is coming their time to die.
And again the head, like batterng ram
And the face it red and the words they hot;
Mr.. Monk. Mr.. Monkl don't care a
Whether | lecture in Nevada mott"