Weekly Arizona journal-miner. [volume] (Prescott, Ariz.) 1903-1908, 1903-08-12

love.
Let not my heart thus shrivel day by
day,
While | exist to see it waste away
But let me find some avocation fair,
Where l can seek and find my whole
heart there.
Oh! let me spend my time midst
mountains high
And sparkling streams from peaks so
near the sky
Midst scenery which held me fast in
And speechless, to consider what l
saw,
There let me search in natures hid
den vaults,
Unfettered by a world of fads and
faults,
For some must brave the rugged
mountain chain,
Else all the treasures there were made
in vain.
There is no dearth of vim in noun
tain air
And L we'll know of one whose heart
is there;
But, should this pleasure not be
granted me,
Some other fate may fill my heart
with glee,
So let me slowly cast my eyes around
And look for new ideas to be found
And let me know, deeds good and bad
of all,
From new way back to father Adams
fall.
I'd tell the good when good was true,
but when
Twas not, of course, I'd tell the other
then,
For God Himself tells not good acts
alone
But humbled David on his mighty
throne.
Now, if l had this long array of facts
OF all the people and of all their acts,
To whet ideas and to make them
sharp,
I'd set my music to poets harp
And bring bright smiles to many now
so sad,
Yet say to others, what might make
them mad.
I'd resurrect the folks of Noah's day
And make note of what they had to
say.
I'd sketch that human failure Tower
of Babel,
In facts much stranger than in any
fable,
And many men should talk in works
today,
Whose bodies burned and lives have
passed away.
I'd know the secrets of the arts now
lost
And, newly published, sell at mod
rate cost;
Thus, e'en the poor should read,
within their pay,
What wealth must now wait for, till
judgment day;
But God thought best to leave us in
the dark,
About some things both "fore and
aft" the ark.
We study futures through the
prophets pen
Till judgment, but must let the past,
till then,
Be most silent; for of all the past,
On that great day we'll know-too
much at last;
To much for some but others, on their
part,
Have b'lieved and acted with an
honest heart.
Some men wear hearts within husk
like corn,
Their tend'rest acts rasp and voice
horn.
No tender thoughts exist within their
breast
At such, they ridicule in cruel jest.
Some women's hearts are worn within |
a case,
Rejecting honor through a lovely |
face,
And that's all right, but when trap
for game,
In her soft hands, tits daggers quite
the same.
And then we find of each, both great |
and small,
< kind, who have next to no hearts at
all;
But what they have, is, like Apollo's
Quite we'll supplied with strings, all
made of wire
No sound will chord or with their
music mingle,
Excepting gold, they love to hear it
jingle,
But such ones find a heart within
their trade
Which throbs according to the cash
they've made.
They love to swindle when they make
a sale
And bleed a neighbor till his face
turns pale.
And so, love to take my pen and
write
Against such devilment both day and
night,
And say, for Christ's sake, if not for
yourself,
When will you stop your crimes, out
rage and pelf?
I'm not the Judge to say what shall
be done
With those whose deed would shame
the shining sun
= OQy in Two Days. 1.
ar II on every
WE/zDz1b box. CSC.