The independent-reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1909-1955, 1913-07-17
WRITTEN BY A FORMER RESIDENT
Mrs. Emily Page Webb now of Pasa.
dena, California

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begun
The mocking- birds were singing in
the sun,
The bees were humming, and the
towers perfume
Stole through the windows of a quaint
old room,
brought
An embryo club, and given life and
thought.
one
life begun.
In looking backward to that day, /
A thousand lights and shadows lie
between,
AS from mountain peak at night,
You mark
A thousand lights flash through the
cloudy dark.
AT first the wee club had no home,
from door to door,
From house to house, its Pickering
light you bore,
=
day,
Brought out their lamps that had been
hid away;
Filled with new oil, their vessels and
your own,
Brought In more friends, till you In
force had grown
roam,
r4r o.
yourself home.
The noble work your hands have
wrought, appears
Through every round of five and
twenty years.
At first, self-culture seemed to be the
only plan,
But self gave way before the needs of
man.
And as time passed you learned to be
SO wise
Your hearts embraced all great
philanthropies;
To help the young on educational
lines,
Assist the old when Fortunes star
declines
To teach mankind there is no greater
wealth
Than to conserve the blessed boon of
health;
Make wise the pure so there shall be
no chance
For them to fall in sin through
ignorance;
To soothe the Borrowing through
their bitter hours.
And send them sympathy through
lovely flowers.
In every cause for good you took the
lead,
And were responsive to the public
need.
And when you saw so many needing
rest,
Tired mothers with their babies on
their breast,
Pale women, sick and fainting on the
street,
And old and feeble ones with aching
feet.
And clerks and shop-girls, who in
some back room
Ate their cold lunches in the dismal
gloom,
You were so moved with kind COM
passion, sweet,
You built for them haven and
retreat;
And said to them, in words divinely
blessed
Come unto me and l will give you
rest"
And thousands of tired women never
cease
To bless you for your house of rest
and peace.
The friends beloved who walk with us
no more;
Who have gone on a little while
before
To that fair world, where all is what
it seems,
From out this land of shadows, and
of dreams,
Although their home Is in the realms
of light,
And their dear faces hidden from our
sight,
We see but darkly. If we did but
They are our guardian angels here
below;
And from this earth, to heavenly
heights serene,
They come. and 20, like rays of light,
between.
And they are never very far away,
And though in heaven, they will be
here today.
l have a word for these young friends
of ours
Who have sprung up among US like
the flowers;
Who bring to us the brightness of the
spring,
When all In Natures heart is
burgeoning;
But when a few more years have
passed away,
On you will come the burden of the
day.
Oh, then grow wise. grow strong. for
in your future lies
The grand fulfillment of our phophe-
cies.
And you midway In life, who stand
between
The fire of youth, and mellow age
SERENE
Whose golden summer haunts your
autumn hills,
Whose early promise, middle life
fulfills;
In your strong hands, as swift the
years have flown,
Your work has widened, and your