The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1889-06-14

arms and brave hearts conquered Tor us the
wilderness.
CENTENNIAL POEM
BY Professor Henry LELAND Chap
man, of Bowdoin College.
Professor Chapman's Poem, which was
highly appreciated, was as follows:
In the sweet tones of music breathes spell
OF twofold power to touch the human heart
spell that nature weayes, no less than Art,
Herself an instrument wherein doth dwell
The harmony of sounds that sink and swell
In varying chords NOW suited to impart
Gladness to life, and now to soothe its smart -
harmony more rich than speech can tell.
A spell of twofold power. that leads the soul,
Thro pleasant melodies, into the land
or memory; or with notes more full and free
Unveils the realm of hope; so is the whole
Of life by subtle concord sweetly spanned,
The years that have been, and the years TO be-
The river, flowing onward to The sea,
Sings to ITSELF and sings to all that hear,
A pleasant song, alike at work or play;
Its foamy fingers sweep, with careless skill,
And straight it seems harp of tuneful key,
Whose liquid melody beguiles the ear
That listens to IL on summers day.
This is its work and when its work is done
L. hurries forth to greet again the sun,
And CLEANS and sparkles on its winsome way,
In all the rapture of unfettered play.
1t ripples DER the stones, and, like a brook,
Trills clear strain of wanton merriment;
1t rests moment in some eddying nook,
Grooming an air of undisturbed content;
With deep-toned mirth it leaps the threatening
fall,
Hearing below the rich melodicus call
OF the full current, in the tranquil pride
With which 1t moves to meet the ocean tide.
But in this changing music of its moods
Wecatch the whispered accents OF the woods
Bending to parley with the siren stream
That flashes by them like some transient dream
We hear the singing birds that dip their bills
In the cool current; mong the quiet hills
We hear the woodman's axe, in echo ring
Thro' the still air, and listen to the spring
Whose tiny voice begins the haunting theme
That runs through all the music of the stream =
A theme that still invites our feet to roam
Back with the river to its early home,
And 'gainst its current, in our thought, TO glide
Thro' meadow, hamlet, wood, and mountain-side,
To tie clear rill, whose unforgotten note
Seems, like wrath of Melody, to hoat
Adown the current, sweetly to compel
The thoughts of men to yield to memory's spell.
III
A solemn cadence thrills the patient shore
Beaten by tides, and by the waves that break
Upon it, while their low-voiced echoes wake
Desire to know the secret evermore
Held by the sea- yet uttered DER and o'er;-
A secret which the hayward clouds partake.
Drifting across the upper deeps that make
No answer to the oceans ceaseless roar
1t Is the secret of the vast unseen,
Stretching away beyond our feeble ken;
And in the music of the waves we hear
Hints OF far shores, and shrines, and islands
green,
Where Hope the enchantress dwells, and
beckons men
To seek the riches of her unknown sphere.
o town beloved! Mistress of our hearts,
Proud in the beauty that thine age imparts,
Proud in the reverence that thy children pay
To thee, In memo'y of thy natal day,
Bending look of recognition sweet
On us who gather at thy gracious feet.
What shall we offer at thy festal shrine?
What but the love that is already thine,
The loyalty renewed that feeds its fires
With the fond memories which this day inspires,
The wishes, that our tongues but family frame,
For added lustre to thine honored name?
These be our offerings; nor wilt thou refuse
To take them at our hands, while thou dost muse,
With eyes down-dropt, submissive to the SPELL
In which the past and future seem to dwell,
The spell of music falling on thine ears.
Where thou dost sit amid thy thronging years,
For through the chorus of thy children's praise
Steals thy fair rivers reminiscent song,
Leading thy thoughts by sad and sunny ways,
Back to remembered scenes now vanished long
The present fades before thy dreaming eyes,
And the bright visions of the past arise.
The pioneers, who titled thy virgin soil,
Salute thee, pausing in their patient toll;
The captains, from their homeward-speedlng ships
Shout glad greeting through their bearded lips;
Light-hearted youths, In ever-changing throngs
Repeat thy name in academic songs;
And stalwart soldiers bid thee brave adieu
As they go forth to join the boys in blue.
Kindles thine eye with unaccustomed light
As these fair visions pass before thy sight,
Summoned by that soft spell the river throws
About thee, as its constant current flows
Close by thy side, and chants low refrain
That calls the vanished centuries back again.
While thus thou sttest, wrapped in grateful
thought
OF days departed long, yet not forgot,
The ocean, with its never-resting tide
And rhythmic passion, presses to thy side,
Breaks at thy feet, and thrills thy listening ear
Like the deep voice of some prophetic seer.
And 10! thine eyes are lifted, and alght
With hopes that rise upon the quickened sight,
Gliding with light the untold years that walt
To add new beauties to thy queenly state.
For like the babe that rode TO Merlins feet
On wild wave, the realms great king to be,
Floats fair promise to thy wave-washed seat,
Borne on the diapason of the sea-
A promise Of the grace, yet unreveaed,
That coming years shall to thy presence yield;
OF gifts more precious from the sunlit skies
Than those which charm thy MISUNDERSTANDING
eyes;
OF her whose sons in loyal faith abide.
So listening to the river and the sea.
Whose voices blend in sweetest harmony
OF hope and memory, thou dost seem to greet
Thine elder sons and future, as they meet
And join with us, who throng about thee now
To crown with living love thy radiant brow.
THOMAS PURCHASE.
Story of the First Settler told by VIM.
m. Sargent, ESQ.,, of Portland.
Thomas Purchase the Founder of Bruins
wick; Additional Light upon His Family