The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1886-09-10
To rest on heads hat crown the little coming

Resign your dust to mother earth, cremation cuI
Or what, do this As parents leaving home,
Before the children, say to them, Before "
Or. oftener. /" Before you go, do this for us;
| We had not time to finish all that we beg an !;
thur
" no concentrated wisdom, every race and elm
Could give, in one brief message that has get
/ The world on wheels of noiseless mp grades me
Each downward avalanche of hate and wrong
With power resistless, because pure. as strong,
Until on some sun-lit. tIansHgnred hin,
VIII.
So you old settlers, of this county-a small place
IN all the worlds and worlds OF endless Time ant
Yet nos SC small. but in its boundaries confined
Are symbols of the loves. hates, joys and grief
of all mankind.
As in one little drop of water, magnifed, We find
The life, in miniature, of deepest. broadest sea
so friends, before You go, to us, your next Of
Whose eyes have seen each newborn light you
ushered in,
Have seen the hardening of the hands that
wrought and wrought,
The bleaching of the hair on heads that thought
The old time comrades going, one by one,
As ny the hours away, before the day IS done,
Inc many graves, that mark our heroes, slain
In that dark time. we never wish to see again.
The steadfast patriot of hundred daus In camp,
Whose form. projected by a small, official lamp,
Well pensioned, is mistaken for his natural size !;
In that mistake, the only trouble lies,
To lead party, to create war, and then,
The rarest chance of all, to be man of men;
With loud commanding tone, well brandished
heft
OF trusty steel, to strike down right and LEFT
me foe invoked. then proudly to retire,
TIL called by true constituents to places higher
Others, who served from seventeen wears to
twenty-0ne
Without holiday, till all the dreadful work was
done,
Who came from out that stormy clash and din
been,
Asking no payment from Country's or a Party's
hand
Save that the human right they fought for might
Unknown. unpensioned still. Thus on Tines
canvas screen
The many passing pictures we have seen.
Your word is still unsaId, but may we not half
The message born of true parental tenderness
win y you not say, Children, adopted ones and
Who came with us, or to us, at the new world,
call,
:. Just as we strove the very best we knew
To drop the worthless old, and SEEK the batter
Just as we tore the old log school house down,
That served 10 well at first the little town.
Not without doubts, and often bitter scott,
enough"
OF earnest soul, that listens and that hears
The coming voices OF the coming years.
AS CROWDS OF travellers pushing on their way
Plan, stopping over atSome little town, day,
SEND in advance, message to the inn,
That work ON added duties may in time begin.
And II for them the ready meals are set.
Good, honest pay in ready cash, they get
Ii not they hear but only fume and fret,
And II the messenger, who only meant good
Is rudely turned away. Misunderstood
Because, fOrSOOth, he was not drummer hired
and paid
By that one little house, is he afraid
His honest word of truth will not be heard
little farther on, or that the word
de meant Tor good will not somewhere bring
good,
Altho ugh in tricksters' hands misunderstood
We know the old log school house had its day
And with the cart and oxen went away,
The better new one came, but not the best,
And ere your folded hands are laid to rest,
May we not see, as Its sure promise then we saw
The home like Cottage school house, built by
And so more useful, rising here and there
In Salem township. not alone, but everywhere,
year
Gives fragrance to some flower, more kernels to
some ear
Finds richer depths in earth. and purer heights
above,
Invention may bring back the old time skill
and love,
When mothers spun and wove and knit and cut
and made
Washed, ironed, read, wrote, cooked and taught
and played,
With time to spare, all fresh and clean,
Without an anxious thought Of any new ma |
chine.
A nd true tn its whole work jnyant;ou boon
Whose wonders, not half yet the world has seen, |
those tried and trustier one eye
Has looked 90 long into the earth and sky.
Whose good one ear has listened for the trill
Of something new In locomotive whistle, shriu, |
u Tor some finer wonder working hum
Of brass, or glass, or steel, or busy loom,
whose true right hand so trained to hold the
whip,
What wonder if from clumsy left the reins
should slip
Sometimes and in the great stampede
Be given over to the racing steed?
But as an accident suggests the cause,
and finds Its remedy in Natures laws,
Invention still at " Ork turns back again
ana says machines have now more soul than |
men.
Stop the machine No, never, not whit
Of that, but bring the workers nearer it.
The thought that ma <es pound of metal ore
Zen times az long wire as ever made before,
ana yet as strong, the same that now has found |
Ten times the product in little spot of ground,
Will find that every human power no less,
Is gagged by any law of tixedness.
Che little one who from his playmateG went
In darkest corner on some purpose new, intent |
And softly answered to the questioning word
That with the mothers eager step was heard,
. What are you doing, Johnny 2" meekly stood |
And said. Why, mother, l am trying to be
good"
But by that self-same law it works and strives,
And tires, and faints, falls. rises grows,
Until Its sweetest flower OF fragrance blows,
Not as a unit by itself, but only part
Of that grand trio, hand and head and heart
and that one little whole. a fraction small
OF that one boundless whole, the All in All,
And, as of huge machine, with largest wheel
The motor power is often In the quiveIing little
Unseen, unheard, but with power in its beat
That not hundred mems strong arms can meet,
% often In this huge machinery Of life
All buried deep beneath facti0us strife
some motive pure, born in a lowly home,
From where the safest powers of earth have
come,
Nay find expression, If not by the false Delsarte,
The truer one, who teaches overflow of heart
Ia Natures own true ways to be the truest grace
Ana keeps youthful soul for Oldest, plainest
face.
Way not our fancy make these mi les of ground
We call KenOsha county, somehow round
4 perfect circle, like the tiny sphere
DIT water, where all mysteries OF life appear?
And in this circle true. may we not stand
AND as In chtidren's play join hand with hand
u some high purpose over all the petty strife
That comes to mar and cheaper human life?
And as the little children in the ring
Join hands together, and then gaily sing,
May we not, looking back through all the long,
Long years, find out some common note of COM
mon song?
Way not the song be something of this srain
No City losses, and no County gain,
No County losses and no City gain,
No Irish sorrow, and no German pain,