The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1895-02-17
OFFERINGS OF The POETS.
Benediction.

OFFERINGS OF The POETS.
Benedfction.
The scented fields that made the summers
splendor
Are laid in rustling seeds and stubble dry;
The cuckoo's notes. SO weird and yet
tender.
Sink into echo, and in silence die.
With wistful eyes we look where lupines
cleaning
Stand palsied by the breath of sudden
frost,
And think how one more year of song and
dreaming
In shadows of the leafless void is lost.
Not lost while all the stars above are
bending
Their silent watches through unfathomed
space,
And spheres OF light upon the hills descend
ing
To see this change in chastened natures
face.
Some joys seem dead that made existence
splendid,
Like golden threads that broke beneath
the strain
Ere yet the beauty of the web was ended.
And warp and wool could not be wrought
again.
gether
Than in communion of all mirthful song;
Lo, in these silver days Of tranquil weather.
We weave enduring ties that bind us
strong.
Give thanks for sun. and dew, and love. and
flowers,
For dawn and eve, for life and labors
quest;
Thanks for our need Of youth and singing
hours
And oh, this eventide. give thanks for
rest.
Ida May Davis.
Lincoln.
o fields of blood! When time shall reap
Thy heritage of fame;
Arising from their dreamless sleep
The heroes without name
Shall give salute to that immortal son
The Just, the Great. who all of glory won!
Who sacred held the endless scroll,
Who led where martyrs trod;
Where Freedom wrote her deathless roll
And left the rest to God!
Yea, they shall grasp his hand, the broad,
| strong palm
calm!'
| The Great and Good. Laurel him foes!
No trace of meaner things;
| He as glorious planet rose
Above the crowns of Kings!
| Yea, God be thanked that such leader sent
| That Freedoms burning star before him
went!
| Muncie. Ind. -E. S. L. Thompson
To Virgil.
| Majestic Virgil, yet thy music rings
! In haunting cadence down the centuries.
| Still sweetly hum thy honey-laden bees,
| And round thy vineyards dewy GOODNESS
clings
| Thine ocen-rolling rhythm grandly sings
| Doomed Iium burned through Beauty's
| rivalries:
| Aeneas on wild seas; his argosies
Plunged headlong to the oceans briny
/ springs;
While DER each fearful fall, each scene Of
| Thy yearnings bend, thy gladness meetly
| CLOVIS.
| Great Roman, thou in PHYS pathos peer
| Fer having hgh-souled tears for human
| woes,
Green are thy bays. though twenty cycles
| old;
Fresh laurels for thee unborn ages hold.
| Spencer, Ind. -RenoS II. Richards.
The Land of Promise.
| Although the faiths to which we fearful
| chung
Fall from us, or no more have might to
| Although the past, recalling gifts it gave,
| Ger lost delights doleful knell hath
rung.
Although the present. forth from ashes
Doth day BY day postpone what most we
| crave,
And. promising beguile us to the grave
Yet, toward the future, we are always
| young.
1t smiles upon us in last lingering hours,
If with less radiance, with a light as fair,
AS tender, pure, as our childish years:
1t is the fairy realm of fadeless flowers.
OF songs and ever-springing fountains,
where
| No heartaches come, no vain regrets no
Florence Earle Coates, in the Cosmopoli-
| tan
A Sameness.
DAY by day." said the man blase
| I'VE are finishing where we began
| Some embezzer so gay from his home goes
And China is whipped by Japan
"And gold galore goes the ocean DER.
| And senators queer things say,
ana ex-tgueen LII Is ambitious to spill
| New corpuscles, day by day.
| Committees storm and demand reform
| And Congress is blamed for delay
| Well soon come out of the hole no doubt
They say to US, day by day.
"And masters and men are at strife again.
| And statesmen their ire display
| Mankind is agreed that it's shocking in
| deed
To keep it up day by day.
! "Alack-a-day," said the man blase,
| What pitiful slave l.
/ Monotony's curse I'd forsake in a hearse
| If it weren't common to die"
Washington Star
A WOman's Confession.
| Yes, kiss me, beloved;
j yield to your lips;
| But my spirit slips
! Away from your touch,
| If you kiss overmuch.
Yes, hold me, Beloved!
| / feel your control:
| But my hayward soul
| Takes wings fleet and strong
| If you hold me too long,
All, kiss me, Beloved
| But find a new way,