The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-10-16
Johns Day of Rest.

Johns Day of Rest.
Ho, comrades let us fare to the hills to-day:
Sundays the day to rest and praise the Lord;
The resting do OF ones own accord,
But praising God say,
Is harder thing than to sit in church and pray.
It needs the whip of fog in the chilly dawn
OF white September morning, ay. and the whip
OF the leaping sun to make the pulses trip.
Unwonted lungs to yawn,
And answering hearts to praise.-ho. friends.
onl
IT'S not that the body rules a dependent mind.
and sight;
The soul of man and the soul OF the earth unite
AS kind responds to kind
The highway lies before and the town behind.
The purple daisies there. of the Michaelmas.
Were never there before, and that golden-rod
Grew further up; the cold white cIovers nod
And wither down the pass,
Where last year crawled the cactus and the grass.
This effort at embroidery makes one smile:
A good enough example for the wives
We left at home this morning-bless their lives!
They're at it all the while:-
This messy watering-trough here marks the mile.
mile Of Sunday morning on the way.
Just fancy now the horses that have drunk
From that old trough; and while the water sunk.
Their drivers liked to stay
And dream with idle eyes, as we to-day.
Yonders the quarry. Twenty years ago.
A man was killed at blasting there: they said
A country girl and he to have wed
That month. 1t makes one know
The nsignhcance of human woe.
And just from that same insignihcance
One must infer somewhere great reprise.
'Repose'' might be better word. One lies
In the arms of circumstance
On earth. repose is heavens wide expanse.
ThereH be no time for moraizing. friends.
When that hedge is passed-that lilac hedge
Like tn in the old French story. guards the
edge
OF fairyland land the ends
OF French romance) Ev'n now the driveway
bends.
This is our goal-the Indiana farm:
Nothing TO see at first but groves Of green
And yellow road that wedges in between
Like a gnarled old human arm.
Pointing beyond far into the Sunlight warm
The stern pines first. strange yet in this warm
land.
March by like mantled travellers, chanting still
Within their armed serenity, until,
Somber and grave and grand.
band.
The smell O. the pines! Do you catch 1t as we go?
IT'S better far than the orchard white and rare
In Maytime. That's the dwelling over there
I'd almost said chateau
Our host came down from the Huguenots, you
know.
scholar and a gentleman. our host,
With genial eye and fine deliberate speech,
A courtlv cordial handshake for us each.
big heart never closed.
And face most grave when his wit is laughing
most.
And a daughter-Mother of Venus, what face!
He calls her 'Amarylls in the shade;'-
And topaz eyes and topaz hairi-the jade
Will pour the wine-and grace.
And voice to draw your heartstrings out of
place.
Past lawn and strawberries the wine-house hides,
Set high behind its mimic moat and bridge
In cedars calm; and up the little ridge,
An old stone stairway gldes
In shadow. where the vineyards silence bides.
The grapes in the vintage. Choose between
The pressed wine, and old Catawba brands
OF 40. strong enough to burn your hands,
And goblets quaint and green
That ring of Venice and doge's queen.
Here's health to wives and sweethearts every
onev'
But mostly wives-and Amy at the word
Trolls out the old toast we've often heard;
Before the song is done,
We've named her Amarylis lin the SUM-
Here's a health to thee, Tom Moore" then
robin Gray"
Drink to me only with thine eyes''-and
To annie Laurie" Benny Haven, OH
And the old French Always gay
Then suddenly remembering the day,
She starts up Rock of ages. cleft for me-"
The vineyard stretches southwark green and
gold,
Across the purple haze the forest old
Lies dreaming TRANQUILITY;
A lonely from his distant tree.
Eastward the corn sheaves wait the frosty air,
Northward the soldier-pines marching STILL
Westward the river flows beneath the HILL
And Amy singing there
Ah well. and praise is easier now than prayer.
Wed all be better men by great degrees.
Shut in behind those magic lilac-trees.
| think no i'll, no harm,
No mans desire. could break the holy charm.
And that's whimperng. childish. cowardly cry
IF. if. if,'' Why not take life it is
And be the better evermore for this
Bright day we've idled by
With gracious Nature-shame to my 'if," say I.
Let us go down and face the music. then:
There's room for prayer below, and ii to praise
Is easier the heights. some day of days
| Wen touch the heights again.,
Our wives are waiting. and the world of men,
Madison. Ind. Olive Sanxay.
His First Pair Of Glasses.
New Orleans Times,Democrat.
Il saw some reference in the Times-Dem-
ocrat recently to the near-sightedness
among children" SAID New Orleans gentle
man who wears spectacles habitualy,
| "and / was vividly reminded of the first