The Waterbury Democrat., 1943-07-28
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 IRYI3S1iHi 11, BY THE TOWER
Nm BY THE MAN IN TILT TOWER

Good Evening.
 started out with the intention of rambling through Chase Park and up the Chase Drive, and filling my lungs with cool clean air. and letting the wind play about me as if were harp string. Which would have been very good indeed But became engrossed with other things the way and the walk that didn't take pleasure deferred.
 It was all right until got to the Pilgrim Monument paused to look at that At first from distance and to at the beauty of it, and at the wisdom of those who had erected it in such setting the green lawn and the trees and the gentle protection of hill which looked like big back-drop big stage And then closer to read the dates1620193o and to look at the sculptor's art The work is craftsman work But couldn't help wishing the monument marble instead of soft stone For already after only thirteen years the hand of erosion has made its mark And some day the features of the figures will be obterated entire ly, and only the memory will remain It seemed little sad to me that could build so beautifully-n sand.
 turned away. was alone. Across the road sitting a low wall an old man smoking his pipe con- tentedy Beside him big dog lay equally contentedly the grass It nice picture. And then my eyes fell the skyline before There were the spires of St. Anns lined against soft green, rounded hill be- yond.
 There was fine red building near the top another hill, and it gilded by the setting There poetry the movements of freight train And the tur reted blunt spre of the Second Congregational Church was balance to the picture to make it perfect.
 It was pleasant to note the green lawns and the shrubs of the plant of the Connecticut Light and Power Company and the ivy doing wonders to camouflage the American Brass Company's factory buildng and sniff the air, and the scent of grass and trees.
 walked back to the bridge, and stood in the center of it looking at the Naugatuc. The sight little de- pressing. For the water dark and muddy and cov- cred with streaks of oil. And couldn't help wondering what it like when Waterbury was the Town Plot and the days before that.
 Once upon time the little river must have been crystal clear. And upon time there must have been fish in it. And children Indian children perhaps must have scampered beside it, and waded in it, and may be there swimming holes, and the shouts of small boys swimming, as small boys have always swum and shouted since time was very young
 It seemed such pity that it deserted and orlorn ikempt, and uncared for, and evidently very much unoved stanza from poem of SWinburneS came into my mind out of the nowhere And standing the bridge in the shadow cast by the h and the sky golden aureoe above the tops of the hl recited that stanza to the Naugatuck River Very softly, of course for meant only for lonely little lost rver couragemen it wandered desoatey under the bridge and away from factories and towns to whatever lay ahead
 From too much hope of living,
 From hope and fear set free,
 We thank with brief thanksgiving
 Whatever gods may be-
 That no life lives forever;
 That dead men rise up never,
 That the wearest river
 Winds somewhere safe to sea-
 This recited to the Naugatuck River on a bridge, near power plant, and factory in Waterbury Town I'm afraid it didn't make the river feel any different But it made feel better. And suppose that what was trying to accomplish all the time.