The Cecil Whig. [volume] (Elkton, Md.) 1841-current, 1886-02-06

Across the spirit seems to steal,
We note the presence of a mind
Too deep for alchemy of rhyme,
Too mighty for the pots verse,
Whose labor lives for after-time,
Whose thought the slumbering spirit Stirs
The winter winds are wild without,
The sunshine fingers in the west,
While we Irvine wreathes of love about
The white hair of our honored guest,
No constant flow of rhyme is his,
No rule of metre guides his pen,
His art the greater Master is
Who speaks profoundest truth to men.
Not his the sweetness of the song
That fell from Moore's Aeolian Tyre,
Nor his the mildness that belongs
To Byron, poet born to fire.
The loveless heart with passions flame.
To tread the lone shore of the sea,
And with a facile pen to frame
Calm ode and stern apostrophe.
Nor his the melodies that swell
From bugle-throated Tennyson,
Or him who pictured Little Nell
And sang her plaintive requiem.
All, no nobler art is his,
He lives the poet in the man,
He greets his comrade with kiss
BE he King John or Caliban.
Welcome, Oh, prophet of a land
That waits its happy destiny,
When men shall feel on every hand
The beauty of thy prophecy
1t is thy essence clothes the hour
With that sweet grace that cheers us So.
And not the perfume of some flower
Born where the tail pamettoes grow.
The fields may wear their garment white,
Let wit and romance gayly pass,
We toast the poet seer tonight
Whose songs are simply" Leaves ofGrass.
There were two secondary toasts dur
ing the evening, the one "The Ladies"
being responded to as follows by Mr.. II
II. Curtis:
There must inevitably follow
toast to The Ladies'" in a long, deep
draught of this sparkling essence, and it
is not only my duty but pleasureable
gallantry, | assure you, to be appointed
to deliver the encomiums of the Pythan
Journalists upon the better half of man,
l. e., Woman. Notwithstanding the add
verse fact, our distinguished guest does
not seem to sympathiZe or accord with
us in our panegvrics, nor share in the
noble sentiment SO OFT expressed-The
Ladies, God bless them. What could we
do without them? Our guest however
well he has battled through this licen-
tious world as proverbial old bachelor,
is supposed to still nourish fond hope
that "A woman waits for me-" and it
is the hope of the journalists assembled
here that his bright dream of happiness
may eventually be realized in his per-
petual union with that woman who is
waiting for him
To the other toast-the medical pro
fession-Dr. Howard Brattol responded.
as is his habit, thus neatly and appro-
priately:
Gentlemen, Members of the Pythi,tn Club:
All my life, | have been regarded as a
green fish. Tonight, thrown among lit
erary men and called upon for a speech,
| am like fish out of water-hooked
from his native element and thrown on
the bank shady and messy and pleasant
withal to lay upon, 1t may be, but it is
no place for fish. He gasps for air
he struggles-the color of his gill
changes. also struggle in this goodly
company for something to say. You
must pardon me if my glls get red.
was once member of this honorable
association. | felt unequal to the occa-
sion and resigned. Tonight, a guest in
vited by your worthy president, as a
prodigal son have returned tho to take
no hand in the literary feast, | am a full
card versus the fatted calf. In seIf-de
fence, | wish to say, as understand, my
letter of resignation was not read to the
society that for the above reason | de-
clined and being engaged in different
field had not time to keep up with the
labors of the journalist and the poet. |
can not write poetry. | can't even read
what the rest of you write. The actions
of the external and interior Iecti muscles
of the eye are to me, mere facts and
nothing more, and as long to be remem-
bered even though | joined with them
the bewitching lines of Longfellow.
"She gives a side glance and looks down.
Beware! Beware.
Trust her not,
She is tooing thee.
The pride have in my profession
hope is pardonable. | graduated not
from the Midtown Hygeia or the Gin
cinnati Electric-nOr from the Jefferson
as reporters have charged me-but from
the oldest and best school on this CONT
nent-the grand old university Of Penn
sylyania. She needs no beating of drums
or blare of trumpets to celebrate the
opening of her doors, nor do legitimate
members OF the profession need any YER
bose opponents to tell of their dignity
and worth. AS we have had speeches
enough already | have only to tender
thanks to the journalists for my invita-
ton. l have enjoyed the literary work
full well. To the more substantial part,
| have given careful attention and assure
them that their kindness shall always be
gratefully remembered
At the conclusion of the toasts the
time had arrived for Mr. Whitman to re-
tire but before going he rected "a re-
markable poem, translation from the
French, in manner which surprised
and charmed those present. After the
departure of their guests the members
of the club still fingered about the board
engaging in inform i conversation upon
pleasant topics, at one time being highly
entertained by Mr.. Johnston with a de-