The Portland daily press., 1886-07-07

She seems the brooding spirit Oh .lo p su,ao,
Before whose gaze, in solemn vis,or rsc s"e'p
Long centuries since first the dusky ,aI - ,.oo
Came here to dwell on Machigonne iohe steep'
Again she listens to their savage speech, A..
Hears the swift arrow whistling through the
glade, ,...h.
The light canoe drawn on the sandy beach'
And mid the forests shade ,. ens
Sees the great Sagamores, with darkling 1rowns,
In naughty council rear their feathered CROWNS
Here comes once more, to greet her own domain,
Young Coganescos noble-hearted queen,
With loyal welcome guiding DER the man
A stranger ship to yonder island green,
There the first colonists, of Saxon race,
Fell the tall trees and build q goodly house;
Anon statelier vessel seeks the place;
While, under dropping boughs.
An Oxford scholar builds his Latin lay;
First of the bards to sing of Casco Bay.
The ships depart; their men are seen no more;
Ten years, and English trading ships alone
Come fishing to her bay, from Richmond's snore'
Then the first settler, proud to call his own
The grassy islands and the wooded strand,
Builds lone cabin by her running brook;
For thirty years he portions out the land
To Westof-England folk,
Brave Devon squires, whose fathers from inc
main,
With Drake and Raleigh, swept the fleets of Spain.
Within his grave beneath the lofty pine
His axe had spared, the pioneer has lain
But ten brief years, when forth, flying line
From raided farms, her settlers seek the main.
But homeward drawn, at last, by love and hope,
They build anew, with fort and pa1sade;
Then days battle on orchard slope,
A
With desperate, vain defence, and wild uproar
And Indian warriors hold the land once more.
Through flame and death her far-led captives go,
While empty streets and bleaching bones
remain;
| Long decades pass; the wasted homesteads know
| Their sons once more the hamlet thrives again.
A brave young parson comes the MOCK 1c TO lead;
And savage foes are bound by solemn peace,
| Westward, to sister towns, the postmen speed;
While over cool, bright seas,
| Their steady course the mighty mast-ships keep,
A,,Ax nttsot trade -GEi mn n ipud aQn
| But if, above the waves tumultuous
In Biscay's bay, where the long breaker swells,
| Her hardy sailors hear, when off Bilboa
The faint far ringing of Spain's conyent-bells,
| And note, across dark olives on the height,
Where the lone belfry cuts the glowing skies,
| The monk slow passing in his robe of white,
What longngs wild arise
To see that log built meeting house once more,
| Under the pine-trees of northern shore.
| Sixty glad wears, and Falmouth mourns again;
Her old protector has become ner foe;
| All day she shrinks before the scorching rain
OF shot and SHE'LL all night the heavens glow
| With blazing ships and mansions wrapped In tire.
| From pitiless seas, from battles dread alarms,
| To echoing fields her stricken sons retire.
At length, from Gorham farms
| And warworn camps her exies homeward nee,
| Hailing the Peace that makes nation free
Soon free, herself, a prouder name to know
Than Falmouth Neck with years of strength
| begun,
| Christening and independence day in one.
| An ocean mart she comes to rule the wave,
To stand its foremost city wise and great,
| When Gorges' province, with the name he gave,
| Steps forth, a sovereign State.
| stills longs her Devon blood to tempt the breeze
| And drive her foemeu from insulting seas
What swift advance a hundred years have
| wrought
Despite embargo, war, and raging flannel
Great Industries her changing needs have brought
To feed her commerce; where the postman
FLY train and steamboat to her lighted shore:
For two good parsons that in sorrow spake,
| Thirty she hears for one gazette, score;
She quaffs Sebago lake,
Dips the Old country road to many bridge.
Although her last dread foe, the ruthless f1ame
Has razed her ancient homes, sacred few
| Preserve some treasures that the past would
claim;
| From which old seadogs have been wont to drain,
| In deep carouse, their healths of Admiral rum |;
Pale Canton silks, that tell in rent and stain
How the Grand Turk came home;
| There Mowatt's fiery shot, embedded deep,
Have had century for cooling sleep.
Such the long memories that her heart has kept;t
Loss and disaster, but triumphant gain:
| Her narrow slopes; yet unto her remain
A people crowding to the biowy strand
And DER the fields; brave and courtly race;
With merchantprinces worthy to command
The destinies of peace.
Nor wealth alone nor strength; mightier power
|
| dover.
Happy are we to greet thy festal year,
o blessed town, which many ne'er behold,
And none but once for all who gather here
Shall their vigor spent, their brief lives told,
Ere thou still wearing thine immortal grace,
And throned, as now, beneath Respondent skies,
Shalt see another century end its race,
Another dawn arise,
When mighty throngs shall tread thine ancient
ways,
And countless thousands chant their votive lays.
And thou shalt sit again among thy dead,
Happy as now, and grown to prouder state
Roses as fresh shall wreathe thy stately head,
And prouder strains thy glories celebrate.
But fairer than the splendors round thee then,
Clearer than other scenes by memory brought,
This one glad summertide shall live again
And brighten in thy thought
This summertide, when first before thy feet
Thy singing children flung their garlands sweet.
While still in breeze and sunshine we rejoice,
And echoes of our fleeing song remain,
to parng ssn
| Hail, dear protectress of our lives and toll!
A peoples homage to thy feet we bear;
| Still bless our lives upon thy sacred soil;
And Heaven, that made thee fair,
Aud gave thee strength and kept thee through all
| fears,
Shallho thee still another hundred years.
The Centennial Hymn composed by Chas.
P. Ilsley, of Cambridge, Mass, and set to
music by David Paine of the same city, was
one of merit and beauty. The Haydns rem
dered it with great effect. The audience, as
requested, rose and united in singing the last
stanza, which was sung to the tune of Old
Hundred. The following is the hymn:
Through the dim corridors of time
There floats peal, subdued and low,
| By fancy deemed mut1led chime
Outrung hundred years ago.
AS family on our listening ears
| In weird-like cadence falls the strain,
| Behold, the Present disappears
The buried Past reyiyes again!
Amazed, as held IN magic thrall,
| We gaze around in mute surprise:
| Lo, shattered roof and crumbline wall
And backened ruins meet our eyes!
By vandal hands this work was wrought
This widespread scene of dearth and blight:
| Yet here, with dauntless ardor fraught,
Our infant city plumed her flight.
Graded in ashes-doomed anew,
AS if the sport of destiny,
| The fiery ordeal to pass through,
| She bravely faced the stern decree.
Heaven speed and prosper her emprse!
/ Whater the burden on her laid,
| AS in the past, may she arise
In strength and beauty fresh arrayed!
All honors to our sires accord
Who nurtured her and shaped her ways
All honors due to them award,
The guardians of her later days!
| Warm welcomes to her wandering sons
| Now gathered at their native home,
And greetings to the absent ones,
Whereer their truant steps may roam!
And unto Him whose sovereign care
Prolonged our lives to see this day,
Whose bounties manifold we share,
Our grateful homage we would pay
The exercises closed with the benedictior
by the 1T. Rev. Henry A. Nicely, d. d.
TIE PEcHrTAS
An Interesting Series of Races Wit
messed by an Immense Crowd.
A more perfect day for boat races thar
yesterday could not be desired The morn
ing was bright and beautiful and the water
as tranquil as a.slumbering infant = Short
ly aJter O'Clock the steamer Express board
ed by the referee, Mr.. Peter OConnor, The
press boat time-keeper, James A. Conwell
the official time-keeper, W. FL. Green, OF
starting boat, (whose time is given here
| Loo ahorc o-