Bellows Falls times. [volume] (Bellows Falls, Vt.) 1856-1965, 1897-06-12

The light of stable will,
A light that is fed by ceaseless source,
With a deep-souled shaft to re-enforce,
Rich hope to e'er instill.
But with this sword the battles on,
I've long enduring heart
VIVA his armor quickly don,
And then depart.
10 wander round the rampant lines,
Oer-brimm'd with warlike zeal,
Within the serried ranks confines
No fear to feel.
We fight no shadows OF great power,
No vapid forms the while,
To menace and to make US cover
With servile guile.
We fight no hollow sunbeams front
With shadows in their train,
We must endure the steady brunt
OF world-campaign.
The goad is no fantastic woe,
When care may blast our hope,
Nor is it some mere glory-glow
With which we cope.
Nor can we avy-hearted seek
Some sanctitude of rest,
No surcease of toll bespeak,-
With soul distrest.
So fight we must, nor bask in ease,
Thro' bitter days and bright,
But never may our hand release
The sword of light.
w.
For now come true those earlier dreams,
Those dreams of pleasure, dreams of pain,
But time has brought this morn, so pure it
seems.
No sadd ming stain
Yet blasts its purity.
For once again the sweet refrain
OF summers innate ecstasy
Doth rise,
Each heart full-frees.
And strenuous streams of richest harmony,
With nought of signs,
Destroy all care.
A somnolescence vades the air,
And singing birds on pinions fleet
In adulation vie.
Four times have they their happy nests,
With joy replete,
Rebuilt amid some sea OF foliage
Ere, stranger-travellers, we sought some
training for our future quests.
breeze scent-laden moves the leaves,
And summer heat and press relieves;
In clouds the morn arose.
But sunlight crimson-edg'd the clouds,
And drove away the darkling shrouds,
To heavens bright blue disclose.
| The day is fair for soon sail
Thro' the mist of the boundless sea,
Tho our sails be small and ouI bark be frail,
To an isle of mystery.
| Volum 'nously solemn we need never be.
| Those shadowy skirts of clouds will flee,
And the dim-seen, distant land
Will rise 'bove the wave,
| If their power we outbrave,
| And faithful fulfill our command.
For sword-equipp'd we're ever strong,
| If It's the sword of light,
If pulses of fire rush the blood along,
If we ever fight for the right,
And drift not along in fancy-free,
With weak and fearful heart in fee.
For ours are not the sunset-labors
| OF fast-departing day,
And we wear no far-wrought sabers,
We've sword for life's foray.
In the purpling hours of morning,
| March we out in proud conveys,
In the song pierced, happy dawning
With its lambent, thrilling joys.
Cleans of passing mirth recurring,
Meier approaches hopes eclipse,
Golden argosies averring,
| With fervor e'er equips.
IT'S not ever resignation
To be content with any lot,
For often tbs but mere probation,
Testing for tenser knot.
Since to all losses we're not fated,
For victory is oft deferr'd,
| Yet when the battle has abated
Certain tits we'll not have err'd,
If the singing thong of sorrow
Has but incens'd for the fight,
If no weapon we Ger borrow,
But ever WELD the sword of light.
In action there is no delay
Tho oft enlarged vision helps the artists pen
For not with self-complacent boast
Should eager men
Fer seek the hearts desire again,
The wish they sought former day.
Detach thyself from yester-deeds,
They've pass'd beyond thy power to change,
Another duty supersedes,-
Thee to estrange.
TIL incarnation of some thought divine
Impels,
And morning hearted we enshrine
Hope within our hearts strong cells.
It's hope leads on to greater height,
To faith in Him above,
And bliss resides within the soul
That worships right,
In faiths soft warmth of love.
Yet hope in man doth not avail,
But trust in God is sure,
For selfcontrol
Must slip from out the SOULS own fame,
One seething principle endure,
That life is life to him who lives,
From tim 'rous spring, and earth increase,
| The lightsome grace that nature gives,
To autumn of our days, their wane,
The autumn-time of peace.
And brightly bazoned be the deeds
OF those who, valiant, WELD the sword
With mind august and conscience just,
With a hope and faith that supply all needs,
| And heart with zeal full oft-restord,
And the sturdy stroke of an arms strong
thrust.
V.
| These are the days when the summer winds
blow gently DER the land,
When the waters wash in ripping lines along
the edge of sand,
When the arrows of light at the early dawn,
shoot up thro' the mist of the east,
And silver the foam at the rise of the sun,
with the light that is ever increased.
And never till times shadowy wings o'ercast
our fading lights,
Shall we forget our nobler dreams, the plans
each heart indites.