Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1891-03-07
A Pretty Poem.

MANY teachers in this county will
find in the lines below much that ac-
cords with their own experience. The
JOURNAL found them in the Front
Royal (Va) Sentinel's report of recent
county institute held at that place, and
which that paperintroduces as follows ::
When the subject of Primary Numbers,
which had been assigned to Miss Bruce Trout,
was reached, teachers ard audience were
most delightfully."- surprised The dry de-
tails of Numbers were dissolved into metrical
lines of poetry, and we had the pleasure of
enjoying the following gem from that gifted
ladv's pen; and which, by motion of Mr..
o tlaherty, was ordered to be spread upon
the minutes for publication:
They re coming in-so many of them
Fresh with the dew of early day
Apple blossoms and violets blue,
And all of the flowers of May.
They re coming in-so many of them
primary Numbers" to whom we teach
Cipher and unit and "a" and 49,"
And things far beyond the reach
Of hooks and scence--thingS of heart,
That make of our lives so large part.
They're coming in-so many Of them.
Gay and rosy with happy play
How shall we make them forget awhile
As they walk i'll another way?
Cipher, or unit in lite's scale
How shall we teach them what to be
In the countless numbers stretching on
To the great Eternity
Meath the sleepless eye of The Mighty One,
AS the years their ceaseless circuit run?
We sometimes wonder how our hands the
mighty work, can do
The work which angels might perform and
find it mighty too.
We tremble that on these young hearts, this
fallow ground of soul,
The seed must go and from our hands, and
out from our control!
o God, wash all our errors out The thing
we mean is right,
But we are weak, and who can know how in
Thy faultless sight
Appears our work, so poorly done, so full of
flaws and sin,
So wholly meath the measure of the thing it
might have been.
The silver lining of life's cloud will some
times slip in view,
As fingers of the unseen move the pail of
darkness through,
White promise Of the day to be, then blessed
time when night
Across the purple hills has gone in rapid,
noiseless flight
So through the cares that crowd in life, the
cares that have to be,
Come often golden thoughts of hope from
care and sorrow free;
When we believing all our work. though
poor, shall not be vain,
But pressing through the Masters hands be
cleaned from every stain,
And in the glory of His touch shall not be
known or guessed
How much of it was weakly wrought, in
doubt and vain unrest.
Miss Trout, as has been heretofore
mentioned in these columns, is Il
native of Frostburg. Her father, Rev.
David Trout, was at one time pastor
here. He was an sold man eloquent"
a doer of good and blessed in his deeds.
This daughter, Miss Bruce, takes her
prcenomen from the family that name
still in this county. Under her fathers
competent and careful culture she
grew INTO lady whose native talents
and literary accomplishments are
proudly acknowledged wherever she is
known. She has long been teacher
in the public school service of vi: ginia.
With qualities and qualifications of an
order high enough to develop a far
more satisfactory mission in advanced
scholarship. she is, we believe, self
dedicated to primary work. As such,
she Is one among thousands.