Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-07-09


Ger the dim plain the leaguering army lay
Amid the CORY trenches all night long
Rolled the soft echoes of their Highland song:
Each heart beat gentler to the well-knOwn tune,
Till full above them hared the midnight moon;
While the dear memories of home afar
Dimmed with warm tears the flaming eyes Of war
And on tie morrow, when the field was red
Al CHASTITY with the life blood of the dead;
When the sun staggered from the fiery glare,
And death hurting in the sulphurous air;
In their repulse red blushed the CORY plain;
While gazing calmly at their bafied powers,
Sevastopol sat scornful in her towers.
On crimson brows a lowering shadow grew.
From rank to rank threatening murmur new
Curse these faint tunes! The fortune of old days
Awaits the sounding of the Marseillaise.
Then swelled air the din piercing through
That song baptized In battles purple dew;
Wide Der the conflict peals the chanted vail,
And brave hearts, thrilled like aspcns in the gale,
Whirled on in battles wildering ecstacy.
March gayly up, through death to victory!
When the red sunset trailed its shades along,
Sevastopol had yielded-to a song.
But not alone song flames. a baleful star,
In lurid splendor on the helm of war;
Its peaceful radiance glimmers far and wide,
1t sits a household angel by side.
Through perilous the poet now may roam,
On either shore he finds kindly home.
His song. like fragrance in rose heart furled,
Turks in the closed heart of the busy world,
We've seen the nations pulse with rapture beat,
Thrilled at the coming tread of alien feet;
We've seen a love all splendor might not buy
Glow in the hands that welcomed Charles Mackay
If such rewards to living bards are paid
What h9nors wait the ascending poets shaded
Go ask the storied graves whose marble piles
Go ask the flowers that bloom through summer days
In the pushed shadows of the Pere Lachaise;
Go ask the immorteles that idly wave
In virgin beauty Ger Beranger's grave.
Song dveIls no longer lonely on the hills,
But dusty cities with her presence fills;
The muse has left the mountains still retreats,
And as nymph du pave haunts the streets
There is sent forth from Europes shore,
Like jewellers. the nations ears bore.
Their credentials their face they bear.
The record Of Italia's sun and-hafr; &
Iyrants ana tunes reInorseieSsiy tney slaughter,
Their pet aversions. Austrians and water.
Through their cracked engines wall eonsumptlye
Easy TO follow as the Dighton tunes;
Lame waltZes chatter through the iron pegs,
Like Greenwich cripples. innocent of legs;
And frantic Annie Laurie high
Before concluding to lie down and die.
Unhonored let them leave world they've bored,
And de in music swanllke. on chord;
Be executed all on single strings.
Yet not alone from fair Italia come
Music's mad priests to western heathendom;
She sends voiceful stars, whose song divine
Thrills like her air and sparkles like her wine;
Through glded galleries Grisi pours along
The luscious melody OF tusk and song,
And Mario. the beautiful and brave
Expires like Wilkins, singing short staye."
Fain would picture, in these rugged lines,
The woodland music of the English Pynes.
They have been here: but at the door we saw
The fiery flaming sword of college law;
We thought 1t splendid, though we did not go.
! Omne ignotom pro mirifco
! How, half ashamed time checks his rushing wings
How the Pathfinder linked his forest fame
With music. when Fremont and Jessie came.
And there songs which we full oft have sung,
To which the mooniit walls of Brown have rung
What happy trembngs through the elm leaves pour,
When wandering soph' mores shout their ''Vive
IAmour.'
How CLEANS the meerschaum at the close of day.
When dreamy spirits seem floating away
And freshmen ask their chums With anxious frown,
What it be the sophs drinking downs? -
Then give the honor due to these old lays.
That breathe the bounding soul of youths fair days
They will attend our LIES dull pilgrimage.
Glide faint and dim across the calm of age,
Lie the last wrecks upon obliyion's strand
Be voiceful memories in the silent land.
Ger the wide world song sheds Its tender CLEAN.
Whose glimmering dawn blushed in the poets
dream.
Why should we name Its triumphs one by one7
AS well recount the trophies of the sun,
Who fill, the buttercup with golden fire
And melts the iceberg in his flaming ire.
In shadowy palaces. whose blushing walls
Ring to the silvery splash of waterfalls,
Through the hushed air the ripping music fows
TIL beauty grows more queenly In repose.
And where the fettered image of his god
Rlasts with his burning tears the arid sod.
Song there Its soulful magic tries
And flames Its triumph In Its kindling eyes.
Thus bloom forever In the paths of trade
These heavenly asphodels that shall not fade
Nor let earth's cares crush In their rude career
These bright memorials of a higher sphere;
Let not the whirlng incense clouds Of steam
Dim the pure radiance Of the poets dream:
As great world sweeps down the tide of change
As the mad years In thunder roll along.
| Let them glide softly at the touch OF song.
| On the wild age let song in beauty rest,
Like sunset flushing Ger the thunderous West.
| Tired of the lesser bards. who lark like rain
| Their quivering faLcies Ger the morning plain.
We walt poet who with tuneful chime
| Shall ring the iron music of the time.
| In this Wild period. when the feeting hours
| Teen with cyclopean shapes Of newborn powers:
When anarch minds. high poised on vampire wings,
Blast with their the tinseled pride Of kings
When labor reigns. giant swart and bare.
| The diadem flashing In his streaming hair;
/ And far away we see the rafting trains
| Fling their mad clamor DER the trembling plains:
| And on the deep. see mans Titanic slaves,
Mad with hot life. plunge through the kissing
| waves;
1 Mid all the roar hear Thoughts prophetic tones
| Stunning old dynastes and SCATTERING thrones
While Freedoms banners. flushing as they rise,
Blaze In far flashing spiendor up the skies.
| He who would win the worship Of the time
| Must have It's spirit singing In his rhyme:
| Its love, Its hope. its passions and its JOY.
Here let the verse stoop. after soaring long.
And grant the muse swallow flight Of song,
i To show the only life the student knows
Runs through field OF most prosaic prose-
| What threatening storms, what boding tempeets
| Around the dismal recitation hour.
| OF course, he lacks the mathematic mind,
To inclined planes is plainly disinclined;
| II hydrostatfcs' watery waste he Grams
4 He execrates Achilles and his foeman.
| He, when stars to fix his mind he tries
Thinks of Forbes playbills and his lady's eyes:
Like civic stars they re- never where they should BE-
| He execrates Achilles and his foeman.
1 ne ualf tofBftS II ONlu nose was Roman,
And dreams amid the mist that thought has spread
Around the philosophic Frenchman's head,
When gathering zeros In the air CLEAN blue
By some Illicit process' founders through.
There Is a class We all have seen or heard.
| Oft singing darkling. like the wakefui bird"
Who love to wander from the cloister bars
When gas lamps die and streets full Of stars.
c e.h ss ~. the 81
Spout Woodbarys phrase. ,,s With grin sardonie.
Risk all to learn what real actors arr.
And wing their furtive hight from 'star to star
Prose Yules supremely In this dull career;
You surely could not look for poets hare.
Go seek for sympathy In tailor duns,
Go search the registers report Tor puns;
Bat ask not poetry from him whose life
Rolls its Jared wheels through paths Of college
/ sfrife.
OF let me poet ieavs HI toll ana care