Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1904-06-25
who read an original poem entltied,
"values." The poem was as follows:

Values.
The artist at his easel dreams.
| And. like a butterfly, flutters to pir1n
| His vision of the loneliness OF eartn,
Bodied in color feathered in dust ana
That lives again which never lived before;
| What hath no being
Is imaged for our seeing,
| And beauty enters by another door.
| THE PAINTERS hand las eye obeys;
| His eve discerns compares and weighs
| The values just, of balance sheeh anu
That beat the tuneful measures of his
| trade.
In Venice splendid prime so Titan
wove cut of shadow and sun his
| thought.
| Who with glad eyes before the Assump-
Confess " the masters brush has followed
The invisible ATTITUDES of hue
| Circled the day from dawn to event.
And climbed a color stair from earth to
| Heaven.
Art is of life a type and part;
| Ard life its values hath, as art.
| Petty and vast are met NJ
| In fair equasion for our solving set.
! The artists hand that lined the plan Il
| OF frost and flame hath made
| OF rythmc glow and shade
| The chairoscuro of the life of man.
| The song is dearer than the Bird
| 1t higher scars on Sw1fter WlHS;
| More potent than the breath the word,
And thoughts are reSnant over things
Forgotten by the centuries, in that
Corner of England where the mountains
lean
To listen to the whisper of the sea.
| What once was Furness Abbey waits
| flushed are the mathis in its gates,
! Where thrush and blackblrd chant their
ltany.
Verdant pavement. assure springs the
| The mullioned window frames the sky;
Cornice and architrave at fault
In mute cOntritiOn sundered lie;
And naught upon the headless column
less,
And naught is girded by the shattered
wall;
Within arch the sparrow nests
And ivy hangs Il tracery over all.
OF by-gone age that age has spared to
1t keeps the trick of the artist vital still
With the creative thought that fashioned
For dreams endure, though systems pass
And beauty lives while stones decay.
Beauty from beauty differs far
AS height from height, as star from star.
There is life.s vesture of the rca! =
There is life's crown of the ideal
A chosen day upon a chosen spot
In the white Alps 1 stood, aware,
OF glacier, slope and summit circiinS
Vet missed 1 know not what
Troops of bright peaks like sheep at
Letting the sunlight in their neeces play.
Too perfect, Only in Heaven shall we
Be satisfied with what we see.
What nowhere fails will always fall
Something we crave behind the vell.-
| And would not have all edges lit
Nor beauty's messages too plainly writ.
| I.o! as look a mist unseen
Stirred not but was not, and between
| The hills and heaven, remote, alone,
As neither sky nor mountain, shone
| The haloed brow of Mont Rosa. white
| With gathered glory of the upper Eight.
| \ moment, and the invisible mist
| From my rapt gaze reft
| The spectral summit glory kiSSed.-
| Only the smiling lesser peaks are left.
| So on the heights of life, the haze
| That ShrOuds unguessed our meaner days,
Lifts, and glimpse of higher height
| Is granted to our happy sight.
| The vision fades.-the knowledge stays,
| The secret joy of unillumined days.
| If beauty is life's flower of youth,
Thought is the LEAKAGE of its prime;
| Fact is the ladder up to truth;
| Truth is the vital spark of time.
| Great thoughts in which the heart of his
| torv lies
| Are strung like pearls upon the centuries
Twas Moses thought and Gods that. like
| Pointed the hosts of Israel to the land
| OF hope and promise; twas the thought
of Paul
| That spoke to Luther like a blNle call
| On Pilates knecwOrn stair: and Luther's
thought
| An era ended and an era brought.
| Twas boys dream upon the crescent
| Where Genoa bids the wandering pillows
| That led Columbus the far spaces DER
| Unto the waiting haven of the west
| Twas an idea too big for England drove
| The weary Pilgrim DER the hostile sea.
And the high thought of Washington was
wOve(
Into the starry banner of the free.
A king is thought. and like a king i'm
Even to his mantle majesty:
And of the works of man Is nouSht
That brain has curiouSly devised,
Or hand has fashioned cunningly,
| SO proud so fair.-no heritage SO priced
| No art so kinsly as the art of arts,
Language, the robe and tool of thought
| Earth'S kcen"St weapon is word,
| And woiShticr IlOmerS verse than HcC
| tors sword.
| Greater than Gods world is His thought
That is its heart. Faircst His word
| of all His works. that made them fair,
| Its echoes in their beauty caught.
| And light out of the darkness grew
| And order out of chaos grew
| That name The Son of God hath daincd to
| wear.
| AS fades the flower of grass.
What hath been framed shall pass;
| Like deserted hearth,
| Ashes for fire the sun shall give, and
| earth
| Her pace shall slack, held by the rctard-
| ing tides
The thought of God is sure, His word
| abideS.
| SO may we mount on spirit wings
| Above the ebb and flood of things
| And finding what in part we sought
| Re-qUickencd in the eternal whole,
May learn the primacy of thought,
| And own the sovereignty of soul
Sweet fragrance in that garden grows
| of lily and asphodel rose
| Drouth cannot wilt. nor wither death;
| And heavenly music sings
In that thin air above
| The hurt breast and the broken winES:-
| The fadeless flowers are hope and faith;
| The deathless birds are peace and Joy
| and love.
| He who would paint lifc's picture through
| Must through his windows look and view
| The mystic hills that touch the sky
| The shining hills where hand in hand
| Beauty and truth and SoohneSs stand,
| row nod the Ip1prV of OFT