The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1894-04-22

On classic temples of the famed East.
And underneath Hesperian skies has strobe;
And yet, oh noble man, sweet friend OF
yore,
Each message that he sends is fragrant
With the bloom of hope that does not die,
And each is ended with those matchless
words
That He the Lord and Master spake-
''She is not dead. but sleepeth."
Granville Melin Ballard.
Wonder.
I wonder if you love me
AS we'll as i love you?
From every indication
/ do not think you do.
But then 1 would be satisfied
With certainty to know
You loved me only half as well
And heard you tell me so.
If only half of what I give
You gave me in return
A smile, a glance, a hand clasp,
Or a word by which to learn
1 had no cause for wonderment,
No need for any doubt
That. spite of gentle stratagem.
Love, too, had found you out,
/ would smile at your endeavor
To be silent and surprised,
AS if my hearts revealment
Your doubts had exercised.
But l am sure of nothing.
Nor dare presume to say
You've given me encouragement
To hope in way.
Your kind and gentle manner
Alike TO all is shown,
Nor is your gracious presence
Vouchsafed to me alone.
And so 1 can but wonder
If time will ever be
When through my full confession
You will confess to me,
And, in your sweet compassion,
My foolish heart undo
By telling you love me
AS well as 1 love you.
Dora Klussman Freaney.
ST. Paul, MINI.
To Homer.
Bard of the old and golden-hearted time,
Whose matchless soul, touched with celes-
tial fire,
Was master of the many-stringed Tyre
Disclose the source of harmonies sublime
Which hold the SAVIOR of the worlds fair
prime
Is it in vain,that men to-day aspire
To sound those notes which they in thee
admire?
Do we now live as in a desert cline?
Well may we ask-What genius stirred thy
soul?-
When won by charms that ON thy pages
shine.
Though with majestic power thy numbers
roll,
Yet Truth. In simple grandeur clothed. is
thine.
Time, oft destructive to deserved fame,
Serves but to honor and illume thy name.
Spencer, Ind. -Renos H. Richards.
CoIIinsia Vernn.
by the Vermillion, God sows blazing
Colinsia, and blossoms blue and gold,
Puccoon and clematis. with plumy locks;
And the still current rolled
Between two rusty banks. is strange to
See
So sang the thrushes in the vernal morn,
And warblers calling from the apple tree,
Rudy with blooms fresh born.
"A
Folding a1l things-the shadows broad
and brown,
The grass. the boughs, the river sliding
voicelessly. slowly down
Through drowsy banks. 1 stood as if a
From that vast world whose valleys
round us lie
Unseen went past. OF lands unscathed by
I felt the presence nigh
But never thing so filled the place with
Or round our hearts so sweet bondage
threw,
AS the Coilinsia's clusters. milky white,
White and divinest blue.
All up and down the shady wilds they
beamed:
Their sweet eyes made the faded hollows
sweet
Or set in dainty knots apart. they dreamed.
And nodding, touched our feet
oh, can it be that He whose right hand
The sea with rocks. with thunder and
Clothes the black storms and curbs the
rushing stars,
Stops TO a little flower,
Paints two twin lobes with summers vault
And two the whiteness of the mountain
Then plants in these his gardens wild,
where i
Doubling and troubled go?
It. HemStead.
TO-Morrow.
In every sound 1 think 1 hear her feet;
And still / wend my altered way alone,
And still L say. Tomorrow we shall
meet"
watch the shadows in the crowded street;
Each passing face follow, one by one.
In every sound think 1 hear her feet.
Among the city squares. when flowers are
With every breath sigh of hers seems
blown;
In every sound think hear her feet
Ever the suns rise, tardily or fleet,
Ard light the letters on churchyard stone;
And still say, Tomorrow we shall meet" "
And still. from out her unknown far retreat
She haunts with her tender undertone;
In every sound ] think / hear her feet
And still say. Tomorrow we shall meet"
May Probyn.
Ready Acuufcscence.