Weekly graphic. [volume] (Kirksville, Adair Co., Missouri) 1880-1949, 1890-06-27
UNCERTAINTY.
NELsE souRLocK.

.ifa IL u mosaic of matters and things,
or s0rrows and pleasures, OF winters anu
springs.
or magistrates and laurels. of holIies and
Jews,
OF merry good mornings and fearful adieus.
Life is an uncertainty hunted thro' gloom,
Y rom infancy's cradle on into the tomb
Its future chest no contrivance unlocks,
Save the key that was left in Pandora's Quaint |
boy
A precious old heirloom, that bungles about, |
And opens an aperture only for doubt.
If all the haphazard were taken from life,
And events and occasions never ut strife;
If all of the might have beens bio, ,somed and
bore
Some clusters of fruit on the long ago's shore;
II all of the might bes the will bes should join
And the telers or fortunes could merit their
coin,
Irthe why and the why not were as puzzles no
We would long for the doubts and the troubles
ofyore.
Yet doubt is upas. Its poison we feel
Vindictiycly sapping the heart of our veal.
All its skeleton grins at each feast of the soul.
Wherc-enjOylng a portiOn-we sigh for the
whole.
IT'S vexing to play at the game of perhaps,
With anxiety growing as seasons elapse,
While vicissitude, sanctioned by destiny
coOls
The ardor of all hut fanatics and fools.
Youth is sanguine. Itfeeds wit h fresh fagots
the fire,
In which doubt shortly fuses with hope and
desire.
Age is skeptical. Weary of sharing its load,
1t would shun disappointment along the dark
road.
Wide ranges the web of uncertainty's ioom
From Tyrian purple to shrouds for the tomb.
Weweave tive wear it-contented or not;
Misfortune or fortune-it still Is our lot
Ye saZes! inform me, beg, If you can,
Where uncertainty never can stultify man.
lt.frowns in the future, it glooms o'er the past {;
| Our days are uncertainties down to the last.
Was Achilles the fellow whom Homer paints
ont?
What is Homer himself but glorious doubt?
And Shakespeare of fAvon--magniiicent Billie
Left glitter of fame--but some question him
still.
Was it Bacon, or Shakespeare they spell it three
| ways
Or did halfa dozen compose those fine plays?
Did Columbus discover America lirst--
! Or ere that had vikings its wonders rehearsed?
| Was Dido indeed an historical queen,
| Or only puppet upon a false scene?
All, shutting our histories, well we may sigh i.
| Hall truth is all fiction all truth half lie!
Has science in error old Socrates shown,
Who claimed that mans knowledge proves
nothing is known?
Is science much better that sciolism--say?
| This ponders and puzzles o'er dust of to-day,
That blunders and trets o'er the miocene clay
Uncertainty mocks us behind and before;
There a cavern of doubt in each field we en-
| plore.
The student at college thro' Latin and Greek
The road to preferment and honor may seek;
May shine in diplomacy, rule in debate,
| Yet die the adherence and shame OF his state.
The meek Cincinnatus may follow his plow,
Yet find some bright morning wreath on his
brow.
Appearances are all false prophets. We're
| told
The glitter is not the true test of the gold
In eNistence's turmoil, excitement and heat ;
Tho this Ill accords with the optimist's view
I'll bet him a dollar he'll yet find it true.
We must censure who fails, but applaud VIII,
succeeds,
ForSetful of motive, while mindful of deeds.
That warrior who marches to ight with hi
foes,
AS rebel or patriot-how will he pose?
George Washington, failing, had prompt
been hung;
Succeeding his praises by millions are sung.
Tho doubt is cactus that. springs in tn,
breast,
1t stimulates action, intensilies quest;
But sorely--oh, sorely! it troubles the heart
Where the rosy young archer has planted hi
dart.
Am loved in return Not question on eartl
To doubt more persistent and sullen give
birth,
Universal it is. We may differ in dress.
; In the sunshine of greeting. the warmth o
caress
We may differ in thought, we may differ il
wish,
In the books for our leisure, the fruit for on
dish;
We may diner In virtue, and differ in fame
But this query to all of our hearts comes til
same.
Old fellow! before at the statement YOU sneeI
ltemember yourself in q long-agone year.
. Does she love me, / wonder? Hope sicker
with dread,
And long for the word that dare not hes
said.
, have not the COT rage to rush to my woe
Or bask in the he aven her love would bestow
Her presence is ike the soft Hlac's perfum
Yet often reminds me of winter and gloom.
On Sunday all trowns, and on Monday q
smiles;
Is 1t pique, or islike-is it fondness, or vile
She is cold and :austere, she is gentle and shy
Now hopeesslI distant, now hopefully nigh; ;
She's woman in fact. Intuition informs
Her heart, suppose. how my own thrills an
warns
If the men we re all women, the women d
| men
might know of her feelings, and knowing
what the n?
Uncertainty mOcks the hypothesis. Well
Pm certain Ive told more than pruden
would tel l.
/ |0HIO AND MISSISSIPPI RY