The record-union., 1898-07-05
"LIBERTY'S STORY"
The Poem, by A. j. Waterhouse of
San Francisco.

A. j. Waterhouse the Poet OF the
Day, recited his original poem, written
for the occasion, 'Liberty's Story" 1t
was a splendid effort, and reused the
enthusiasm of the audience by each
stanza. 1t is as follows:
God took a page. 1t was broad as the
And its edges were wet by the spume of
the seas;
And He wrote a word on it, and said, 'It
Till the goblet of Time has been drained
to the lees.
And He said Meath the word shall its
story be writ;
On my page man shall write it in
heaven-born pain,
Though my ink be of blood, no less, bit by
He shall write, nor e'er shall he falter
again
Till the scroll of the heavens together
And my seal of approval be placed on
the whole"
And the word, would you know it?-
In reverence bow
Where His great finger traced
Man readeth it now,
And he writeth its story
Blood-washed and tear-wet,
And its lesson, pain purchased,
He ne'er shall forget,
For the word that God wrote where the
Twas the word sung in Heaven, the
word-Liberty.
And the page where he wrote It? Q, land
Of our love,
Kissed bright by the sunbeams that rain
from above;
Thou land of the Occident. land where
the sun
Bids the world a good night when his
journey is run;
Bright. fair land of plenty, land of the
West,
Thine was the page-for He loved thee the
best
Where God traced the word, and thy chill
dren shall write
It's story till soundeth the final good
night.
Yea, write it they will though it's letters
Traced in the blood of the loyal and free.
They came with morning on each face
The fathers whom our country knew.
Stern men were they whose feet must
The way Of hardship and Of rue.
They came with morning on each face
The morning of a better day
When man should rise from serfdom base,
Gods spirit breathed within his clay.
If they were grim, what matters it?
They held their faith so very high
They could not parley long with wit,
Lest it should WOO from duty nigh.
They held so high their trust in God
They dared not falter on the way,
Lest, looking from the path they trod,
Their human feet should go astray.
And If sometimes their written creeds
Seemed sadly harsh or strangely small,
What matters 1t? Their godlike DEEDS
Proclaimed their faith, proclaim it all.
Our country's fathers. Time shall pass
And you and l shall sink to sleep
IA
Nor stir US in that slumber deep;
And we shall be forgot. Our days
Have been, and they no more shall be.
So faint the footprints on our ways
Who cometh after scarce shall see
Where they are buried meath Times sand.
But these our fathers, stoutly shod, !.
They left some footprints which shall
stand
While Freedoms path leads up to God.
And that they hewed a rugged way
And hewed it strong. and hewed 1t deep,
We hold them in our love to-day,
And say, "God keep them in their sleep.
The slow years come and the slow years
AS the children of men creep on and
under
And the years of the past are phantom
And the years to come are a thing of
wonder;
And out of it all We gather this:
Some deed sublime shall live in story,
To tell to our babes with tender kiss,
Or to urge our sons to the nights of
glory.
And such was their deed, deep-writ in
Who gave to the world the Stripes and
Stars.
Continued on Seventh Page.)