The mirror. (Stillwater, Minn.) 1894-1925, 1895-03-14
Vol. WILING
MI S G; = = E;k:4LAN&
sSZss - -
CHAUTAUQUA.
At the Nebraska State Penitentlary
CONTINUED.
MIR, BRYANS ADDRESS.

CONTINUED.
MIR, BRYAN'S ADDRESS.
There is another department of liter |
ature. into which this love of reading |
leads us; the most beautiful part. An
all loving Father has supplied our every
want. We see about us in nature, the
oak with his strength, and other trees
that give shade under which the weary
may give rest; other trees and plants
that give fruit for us. And scattered
all over the face of the earth He has
put the flowers which live simply that
their beauty and their fragrance may
make glad our lives.
1t seems that poetry represents the
flower of literature, which by its beauty
and pathos adds SO much to our hap
piness Poetry has existed i'll every
age, among every people and III every
cline. The 'IIliad" and "Odyssey' of
Homer have ever since been the models
of our poets Rome had her Virgil and
her Horace, Germany her Goethe and
her Schiller. England has given many
names familiar to you all Shakespeare,
who reached every height and every
depth of sentiment and passion; Milton,
the epic poet of modern times; Pope
from whom we quote so much:
Honor and fame from condition rise.
Act we'll your part. there all the honor lies. .
Worth makes the man, the wani of it the fell
low
Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never is. but always to be Dlest.'
And that beautiful verse which we
End in his universal prayer:
Teach me to feel another's woe.
To hide the faults see,
That mercy to others show
That mercy show to me-
Scotland had her bard, who, if he had
never written anything else, would de-
serve remembrance for those beautiful
words which express a sentiment that
we should never forget
80, wad some pow'r the gieftie gle us
TO see ourselves as itherS see us,
1t wad frae monte a bunder free us
And foolish notion
Ireland is fortunate in having one OF
the sweetest of poets, Thomas Moore
SO many of whose poems have been SCI
tomusic. What more beautiful than hi.
odes and the Last Rose of Summer 2
"Tis the last rose of summer
Left blooming alone:
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flower of her Kindred.
No rose bud is nigh
To reflect back her bushes
Or give sigh for sigh.
III not leave thee thou lone one.
To pine on the stem:
Since the lovely are sleeping.
Go. asleep thou with them.
Thus kindly scatter
Thy leaves Ger the bed.
Where thy mates of the garden
Lie ScentleSS and dead.
SO soon may follow
When friendships decay.
And from loves shining circle
The gems drop away.
When true hearts lie wjther'd.
And fond ones are flown.
Oh. who would lnhaOiI
This bleak world alOne:''
Although young as nation we hav
many poets who have taken hig
rank. Poe the poet of melancholy, VIII
gathered his inspiration from the sigl
ing winds. and wove his tears into in
mortal verse, has written several poem
which will last for all time. He, yo
will remember, is the one who prove
in poetry that man should love h
mother -in-law better than his ow
mother The verse is as follows:
MY mother-my own mother, whe died ear
Was but the mother of myself but you
Are mother to the one love dearly,
And thus are dearer than the mother kne
By that infinity with which my wife
Was dearer to my soul than its own SOu-fe
Without stopping to mention q
those who deserve attention, let n
ask you in your reading not to overlo(
William Cullen Bryant.
He, it seems to me, has been excee
ingly felicitous, both in language al
thought. There is one poem, a she
one which was favorite of my fathe