The record-union., 1898-01-24

bears
To the unknown original But thou
O'erwatch'd their joys and sorrows
laughter, tears
As thou dost ours to-day with change
less brow
And smile unfathomably beautiful as now
From fertile plains thy sloping hills rise
high,
From gentle rolling swells which sleeper
Sleeper and higher STILL until the sky
Embraces coldly the ambitious brow
1t croWn'd at Heavens command, but
crownd with snow.
Gefchanee this coronel was silver pam
Causing sad tears as canyons seem to
show
If 50. thy lonely grief was not in vain
For England guessed thy need, and heroes
came from Spain.
And if 'twere joy which sometimes flows
from sadness
1t filld thy lavish streams and spread
around
Heart-easng smiles and beauties full of
gladneSS.
Bedeck'd thy form with flowers and
StreWd the ground
With soft ailuring charms. And queens
renOWn'd
In Europe heard of thee with envious
,sighs
Ambitious dreams and nesting hopes
were found:
And brave Columbus for that bold en-
prise,
Drew from their distant homes, pilgrims of
every guise,
And not unmov'd vert thou, when bluff
old Drake
Unfurl'd his wind-worn sails and steer d
again
Out thro' the Golden Gate o'er seas to
take
The Indians gift, fair token of his reign,
crown Elizabeth did not disdain.
Thy court he sought; yet, daring, dar'd d
not stay;
Fate favor'd his great enemy, old Spain.
And 10 thy feet bad Cortez shown the
For brave Cabrillo trac'd a path Ger ocean
gray.
Spain sent her sword and Rome her sable
hood.
Their galleons' heavy freight was tyran-
Alas! that both were crimson'd deep in
blood
From the fresh wounds of hated liberty.
Before tn adventurous dons' wild sol
diery
The .timid natives fled with terror fill'd
TO thee. And such thy power thy ma
1t tam'd Castilian pride, its ardor kiIrd,
Bade it with sheathed sword retire in sill
ence thrilfd.
And then. a Christmas tide. The ocean
Caress'd by dawn in still unbroken
But long it was since Cortez pass'd away
To be led fetterd in a silence deep
Captive at last, to deaths dark stone
Yet, naught this lapse of life or time to
thee
Who scans the centuries and onward
OF man to all that he shall someday be-
What care is thine, but this, his growth in
destiny.
Twas morn, El Captain of giant frame
Was shaken with surprise and glad con-
tent.
From the Atlantic's stormy shore there
The herald-hope for this great CONT
nent.
1t thrilld the pines of Winnepeg; it went
Thro' plains to Aztec lands; from East
to West
Striking each Indian breast with Won
1t spread from pilgrims seeking free
donl's rest,
From Plymouth Rock when by their
dauntless feet twas prest
Then came the dawn of this thy glorious
day
AS coior'd dreams beget the poets song;
For years thy splendors meath the azure
Fancies unreal as fairy tales among
The old worlds busy and progressive
But some believ'd the rumor's strange
romance
Carried from Thames to Tiber on the
tongue
OF such as having seen thee by rare
chance
Spoke truth of beauties loved, as dream
ers. do a-trance.
And as the tendrils of that flow ring weed
The morning-glory stretch DER meadows
green,
So Rome's crept forth that mother
church might feed
Upon thy wealth; so in the valleys seen
Were new made trails and monks OF
peaceful mien.
And mission walls rose cleaning purely
bright,
Like listless fishing sails in bays. serene.
White walls, gray friarsi and hearts
may Heaven requite
Them their pure love for selfish Rome. A
piteous plight
Again, it seems, there sounds the mission
Across the valley graz'd by sheep and
kline.
The Indians rise from labor; listening
well
Each makes Che knows not why the holy
Whilst forth to vespers pass the monks
Chanting beautiful Gregorian air.
For Rome. it is but corn and oil and
This land. the Indians garden of despair
A land of golden promise yet for Saxons
fair.
Great spirit of the mountains! flrd with
hope
And calm enduring faith, and love divine
For thy unriddled mysteries VIE grope,
Feeling the weighted thought in every
line
Of deepest cavern where our light may
shine
But, puny, ah! how weak our hands and
eyes.
Compar'd to that stupendous power OF
thine
We proudest creatures made by the ALL
wise,
Before thee shrink in feeble ittleness Of
size.
There is a sacredness in all things great
'Tis felt beneath thy smile divinely fair
1t trembles in deep love and joy. 'Tis
fate
That writes it plainly in the summer air
Youth passes whistling 'mongst thy won
ders rare.
Until some sorrow touches silently
His heart with seeming lifelong DARK
despair,
Then Ger His how'd head looms thy ma
jesty.
And teaches him for help to pray on
bended knee.
A voice-like murmur rises from the
shore;
The gray surf beats against the Golden
Gate.
An eagle stoops to listen: ne'er before
Had seem'd a wall so lone. 50 desolaie
20 prince of wand 'rers, fame, why dost
thou wait
So long from this fair land thy chosen
4 4 AN6A6 GN NdG nm