Fort Worth gazette. [volume] (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1891-1898, 1892-02-14

1 thought d take ride
So hired a nag they said was fast
think they meant When tied.
NV friend Bill Nameless. vent and drove
While laid on the whip
And shouted till the welkin rang
Ana the lack-rabbits Of the Trinity bottoms
trembled under their stretch-berry coverts:
SLACK the lines, Bill, and just let 'er rip!'
We took the stock-yards in or route,
And also took some beer:
We drank the pac6ing-house. and then
All Texas far and near:
We pledged the Texas brew-er-ree
With many 2 ling ring sip
And then we climbed into the buggy and
started for Riverside; and while Bill manned
sffE tiller basted the brute and filed in all
intervals between the strokes with: slack
the lines, Billet 'er rip"
When we at Riverside had drank
All healths-had done it brown
We took our vehicle again,
Ard started back 10 town.
I basted wen, but Bill, ne steered,
The worst in all the trip
So Just before we reached the Trinity bridge
the brute ran into fence and tree at the
same time, AMI there was a crash, and q fog,
and q MASKING UP of things generally, and l
cried from the midst or the fragments, as I saw
the animal far away going over the bridge at q
two-forty pace, and alone: I say, Bill the
mare is running away. and said he: 1.-THE
HI she Isl Well, then, just let 'er-r-r-r
r-r-r-ip!"
There is something a little strange about
the way great men appear upon the earth
in certain ages and not in others. They go
in fiocks, as it were. We nose have no
Clays, Calhouns, Websters or Bentons, in
the line Of statesmen, neither have we any
Longfellows, Prentices, SaXes, LOwells,
Morrises, Whittiers or Holmeses in the
line OF poets. True, we still have Oliver
Wendell Holmes among us, but he row is
a poet of q past age and not of this. The
great statesmen and the great poets appear
TO run together. There are none now fill.
ing the places of the great men, in those
lines, of a past generation. Who can eX-
plain why this is thus! Is it due TO the
fact that the present is an age of scientists2
We now have greater scientists and in
ventors than the world ever knew before,
but no really great statesmen OF poets.
And, strange as it may seem, many of
our really greatest poets of the past gen.
GRAFTON are rapidly becoming forgotten, for
instance, George d. Prentice of Louisville,
Ky. Comparatively few of the young peo-
pie of to-day have so much as heard of
George d. Prentice as poet, and yet no
poet ever produced anything more beauti-
full than the following from his pen en-
titled:
A 7eAAE IN THE SAND.
"Alone walked the OCEAN strand,
pearly shell was in my hand;
I stopped and wrote upon the sand
My name-the year-the day.
As onward from the spot passed,
One lingering look behind cast
a wave came rolling high and fast,
And washed my lines away
And so, methought, twill shortly be
With every mark on earth from me;
a wave of dark obliviOn'S sea
VIII sweep across the place
Where have lrOd the sandy shore
U Time, and then for me no more
WIN live the fame, the name bore
All gone, and not trace.
land vet with Him who counts the sands,
And holds the waters in Bis hands,
know q lasting record stands
Inscribed against my name.
OF ali tins mortal part hath wrought,
OF ali this thinking soul hath thought
And from these fleeing moments caught
For glory or for shame"
The rapidity with which George D.
Prentice appears to be passing from the
thought of our people would seem to