{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4801", "width": "3297", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "LIBRARY OF CONGRESS.\\n?S^*^5\\nChap. Copyright No.\\nUNITED STATES OF AMERICA.", "height": "4628", "width": "3217", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4628", "width": "3217", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "Songs\\nOF THE\\nLakes\\nAND OTHER POEMS.\\n-BY-\\nLouise McCloy Horn.\\nCINCINNATI\\nTHE EDITOR PUBLISHINO CO\\n1899", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "rWO COPIES RECEIVED,\\nsv^\\nLibrary of^CfOfrM^ -^*S /5^\\nOffice of th, (Ob^^\\nNOV 16 1809 b^\\nRegUttr of Q9pyrlfht%t\\n476 12\\nCopyrighted\\nEDITOR PUBLISHING COMPANY\\nCincinnati.\\n-1899-\\nSECOND COPYt", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "12\\nTO MY HUSBAND\\nThis volume is affectionately dedicated.\\nL. m c. H.\\nr", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "INDEX:\\nSONGS OF THE LAKES.\\n1 Lake Erie i\\n2 Song of the Lakes 2\\n3 Sunset 3\\n4 The Song of the Waves 4\\n5 The Lights above the City 5\\n6 The Life of the Sailor b\\n7 The Fisherman 8\\n8 Lake Erie Islands 9\\nCRADLE SONGS.\\n1 Cradle Song 10\\n2 When Eyelids Droop n\\n3 ToBabyEdnah 12\\n4 Sweetheart Boy 13\\n5 Mother Goose Hour 13\\n6 At Bedtime 14\\n7 Carol My Baby _ 14\\n8 Bedtime Stories 15\\n9 ToAzeline 16\\n10 Baby Lorain 16\\nPATRIOTIC SONGS.\\n1 The Soldiers of Ohio 17\\n2 Our Army --.-_. 18\\n3 Memorial Day 19\\n4 They Have Struck Their Tents 20\\n5 The Passing Host 2I\\n6 Greetings to the Veterans _ 23\\n7 Decoration Day 20", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUvS POEMS.\\n1 Unto the Hills 29\\n2 The Bendiction _ _ 30\\n3 No Other Name _ 31\\n4 Christian Endeavor 32\\n6 Post Tenebras Lux _ _ _ 33\\n6 Children of God _ 34\\n7 Our Dwelling Place _ _ _ 35\\n8 Satisfied 35\\n9 A Quarter Century _ _ _ _ 35\\n10 Stewardship 39\\n11 Mummies _ _ 40\\n12 Patience 41\\n13 Revelation 42\\n14 Anniversary Hymn 43\\nMISCELLANEOUS.\\n1 The Dying Poet 44\\n2 June 45\\n3 Cobwebs 46\\n4 Dead\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Aged 26 48\\n5 The Crown- Bird 49\\n6 The Old Garret Room r.o\\n7 Ireland 51\\n8 Over on the Cross Road 52\\n9 A Dead Hope 54\\n10 The Talisman r)5\\n11 The Butternut Bough 58\\n12 Childhood s Birthright 59\\n13 Gold (U\\n14 The Song of Youth ()L\\n15 Ohio All the Year (VA\\n15 The Brook Where We Lsed to Fish (54\\n16 Out of Prison (\\\\r,\\n17 In the Library (*)7\\n18 When Shadows Kail (-7\\n19 ^^Till Death Us JoiiT cs", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "20 Asleep 70\\n21 The Passing of Dawn 71\\n22 Song\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Do They Whisper 71\\n23 Ambition 72\\n24 Retrospection _ 72\\n25 With Memory s Eyes 73\\n26 Dawn 74\\n27 Since Thou Art Away 74\\n28 A Portent 76\\n29 Swallows 77\\n30 Nellie 78\\n81 A Vision 79\\n32 The White Man s Privilege 78\\n33 The Height and the Valley 84", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "SONGS OF THE LAKES.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": ")onas of 196 Qakes.\\nLAKE EEIE.\\nO, tell usi, placid waters,\\nThat stretch away, away,\\nTell us the mighty secrets\\nThy bosom holds for aye\\nThou who art old, we pray thee.\\nTell us the wondrous truth\\nThou who dost keep through ages\\nThe dimples and smiles of youth.\\nThou who hast lain unchanging\\nA thousand cycles past,\\nWatching tlie march of nations\\nEach greater than the last\\nNations whose names have perished,\\nBuried centuries deep,\\nAnd far within thy bosom\\nTheir records thou dost keep.\\nO, tell us, cruel waters\\nWith Heaven s tints abloom.\\nHow many brave and noble\\nHave found in thee a tomb?\\nHow many tears of sorrow\\nHave swelled thy gleaming waves?\\nHow many hearts have broken\\nFor those within thy graves?\\n1", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "SOJ^GS OF THE LAKES\\nNo word, O, sullen waters,\\nThy gloomy depths will speak;\\nThou yieldest not thy knowledge.\\nThough that be all we seek\\nFor if our eyes could search thee\\nAnd read thy hidden lore,\\nThe books of all the ages\\nCould never teach us more.\\nBut know, O, silent waters,\\nThere cometh fast a day\\nIn which thy darkest billows\\nShall all be swept away\\nWhen from thy deepest caverns\\nThe nameless dead shall rise.\\nAnd all the tales of all the years\\nLie clear beneath tb^ skies.\\nSONG OF THE LAKES.\\nOh the charm of the dancing waters,\\nThe rose of the summer morn.\\nThe opal and pearl of the sunsets\\nWhich pass when the night is born!\\nI love and I sing of thy glories.\\nYe beautiful inland lakes.\\nWhether peace reigneth o er you\\nOr whether the tempest breaks.\\nAway from the din of cities,\\nOut where the breezes blow.\\nHeaven undimmed above you.\\nPaths unsullied below.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "SOJVGS OF THE LAKES\\nHere s balm for the heart that s breaking,\\nHere s for the toiler rest.\\nHere s ease for the brow that s aching,\\nPeace for the care-opprest.\\nOh student, turn from your pages;\\nHere is the scroll of truth\\nThe science and art of Nature\\nDown from the old Earth ^s youth.\\nHere s poetry grand in rhythm,\\nTales for the World to read,\\nBeligion pure from the Maker,\\nNobler than man-built creed.\\nCome out on the welcoming waters\\nTwill teach you content once more\\nEarth s follies and vanities vanish\\nAs fadeth the line of the shore.\\nX et the charm of the waves steal o er you\\nWhich the dusk and the dawn awakes,\\nThe spell of the starry midnights.\\nTill your soul shall sing of the lakes.\\nSUNSET.\\nWe stood upon a bluff out-jutting bold,\\nThe turbid waters dashed and broke below\\nAnd watched the cloudless western sky o erswept\\nBy slowly bright ning beauty till it grew\\nA glorious, gleaming mass of color rolled\\nFrom all the Universe. The sun aglow.\\nBroad, brilliant, blinding, lower, lower stept;\\nThe rolling lake caught on its face a hue\\nSo marvelous our sight could grasp no more\\nAnd tongues of power to speak it were bereft.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "SONGS OF THE LAKES\\nA dye as if the pulsing- heart of Time\\nEternity s relentless dart had cleft,\\nAnd let its blood gush out a-sudden o er\\nThe heaving world, deep-stained with all its crime.\\nTHE SONG OF THE WAVES.\\nA ceaseless song in mine ear is ringing,\\nThe song of the waves;\\nWhen the wind of winter their foam is flinging,\\nWhen the birds in springtime are northward winging^\\nOr when, at the time of harvest bringing\\nThe lake its rock-wall laves,\\nI hearken, hush, as I walk anear it\\nAnd always, ever, my soul doth hear it.\\nI love it, weep with it, laugh with it, fear it,\\nThe marvelous song of the waves.\\nHere, where the water is murmuring, crying,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThe wail of the waves\\nList, it is telling of lovers lying\\nDown, deep down where no breeze is sighing.\\nWhere sand, slow-shifting, is ever trying\\nTo cover their unsought graves.\\nHeart to heart they went down together;\\nLovers forever, they reck not whether\\nFair or foul would have been life s weather;\\nNothing their slumber craves.\\nHear, by these rocks with the breakers vying,\\nThe chant of the waves.\\nHow they are singing of heroes dying\\nWhere death with a thousand bullets flying.\\nDeath, the Dealer, man s life is buying\\nWhose purchase a nation saves.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "SOJSTGS OF THE LAKES\\nNow like a wondrous Anthem rolling\\nOr the roar of a score of iron bells tolling\\nThey raise to the earth a strain consoling,\\nA requiem for its braves.\\nHush, where the pines o er the depths are bending,\\nThe song of the waves\\nA myriad voices are upward sending\\nMeasures of joy and sorrow blending,\\nYouth and age in a march unending,\\nSong of Freemen and song of Slaves.\\nLove and brightness and woe and wailing\\nMingling, changing, swelling and failing\\nSuch is the song my soul assailing;\\nThe song of the surging waves.\\nTHE LIGHTS ABOVE THE CITY.\\nOn toward the distant city\\nSwift the Steamer goes\\nEvening breezes rising\\nAs the darkness grows,\\nSilver gleaming in her wake.\\nStar-lamps shining clear,\\nAh the lights above the city\\nAs the boat draws near.\\nAh the lights above the city.\\nLighting many a home\\nThrowing rays of welcome\\nTo the ones who roam.\\nLights of peace and plenty\\nLights of warmth and cheer.\\nThe lights above the city\\nAs the boat draws near.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "SOJYGS OF THE LAKES\\nAh the lights above the city,\\nThey shine on want and woe,\\nThey shine on sin and sorrow\\nAs the hours of darkness go.\\nThoy beam on scenes of revelry\\nIn hovel and in hall,\\nThey gleam upon the marriage feast\\nAnd on the tear-stained pall.\\nThey shine on wealth and poverty,\\nThe vilest and the best;\\nOn care that knows no ceasing\\nOn toil that knows no rest.\\nOn praying and on cursing.\\nOn love and hate and fear\\nThe lights above the city\\nAs the boat draws near.\\nTHE LIFE OF THE SAILOR.\\nOh, what is the life of the sailors on the mighty\\nlakes who roam,\\nWhose nights and days are on trackless ways.\\nWho know not the hearths of home;\\nWhose sole good-night is the star s far light,\\nWho are kissed at morn by the foam?\\nOh, merry the life of the sailor, when waters and\\nwinds are fair.\\nAnd happy and glad is the sailor lad.\\nAs his song rings out on the air\\nTrue-hearted and strong as the day is long,\\nAnd his laugh tells naught of care.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "SOJ^GS OF THE LAKES\\nAnd pleasant the life of the sailor when the sun\\nconies up in the East,\\nWhen the summer morn is in glory born,\\nAnd the white caps foam like yeast;\\nWhen the vibrant steel and the tireless wheel,\\nSing praise to their great High-Priest.\\nBut drear is the life of the sailor when sullen and\\ndark the sky,\\nWhen the dull swells frown at him gazing down,\\nAnd the clouds are gray on high\\nWhen the wind waits still for the tempest s will,\\nAnd the lagging hours go by.\\nOh fearful the life of the sailor who the winter s\\nwrath must brave,\\nWhen he needs must fight in the cold and night,\\nThe fiends of the wind and wave\\nThe hideous foe who would hurl him low,\\nTo an ever-waiting grave.\\nAye, this is the life of the sailor; danger and\\ntoil and pain\\nA heart that cares and a heart that dares\\nTo challenge the treacherous main\\nA heart that sings though the tempest springs,\\nAnd laughs, though the storm-king reign.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "Ref.\\nSOJSTGS OF THE LAKES\\nTHE FISHERMAN.\\nThe fisherman, where er he be,\\nMust rise ere break of day.\\nAnd when the sun doth dye tlie sea\\nTlie fleet is far away.\\nWhat matter tho the wind doth blow\\nAnd fiercely flies the foam,\\nNow high, now low the boat must go.\\nWhile loved ones wait at home.\\nWhen dangers ride upon the tide\\nThe fisher s arm is strong;\\nWhen sunny waters dance beside\\nHis song is loud and long.\\nFor nets must rise when smile the skies\\nOr when the tempests roam.\\nThe stout heart flies where duty lies\\nWhen loved ones wait at home.\\nThen hoist the sail and face the gale\\nTho wild the morn and drear.\\nThe fisher s bark is strong and dark,\\nThe fisher knows no fear.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "SOJSTGS OF THE LAKES\\nSONNET. LAKE ERIE ISLANDS.\\nI know where a nest of Islands lies,\\nJewel-hued on a bed of blue,\\nGold of the sunset gleaming through;\\nThey are truant clouds from the summer skies\\nThat wandered once when the world was new\\n(Ah, clouds to-day are far more wise)\\nDrawn by their own forms fairy guise\\nIn a mirrored sky of the self -same hue.\\nThey floated, lavender, pearl and dove.\\nGems from the casket of Heaven rare,\\nAnd the lake threw around them arms of love\\nAnd kissed and caressed them lying there,\\nFairest of all when all was fair,\\nNor let them return to their home above.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "Cradle ^onas.\\nCRADLE SONG.\\nKenneth, my baby, the twilight grows deep,\\nThe soft-stirring leaves hush the robins to sleep,\\nHide your brown eyes neath their fringed curtains white,\\nFold your sweet hands in a dainty good-night.\\nKenneth, my baby, no bonnier child\\nGod ever gave mother since Mary s babe smiled.\\nI dream as I watch thee, my beautiful one.\\nAs a mother-heart ever must dream o er her son.\\nWhat wonder that Israel s mothers of old\\nCould in such sinless eyes, the Annointed behold\\nWhat wonder the Lord on that long-ago day\\nClasped and blessed such as these on the dusty highway.\\nI wonder as softly beside thee I sing.\\nWhat the hastening years to my baby will bring.\\nWhat fulfillment will come of a promise so fair,\\nWhat the fruitage will be when the bloom is so rare.\\nKenneth, my baby, though manhood come soon.\\nThe dawning s soft beauty be lost in the noon,\\nThough mother thy life to the world must resign\\nThy beautiful babyhood still shall be mine.\\nAnd, Oh my heart s treasure, whatever betide\\nO er life s pathways untrodden, may God be thy guide;\\nAnd when mother s brown hair shall have faded to white,\\nMay her prayers for her son be as glad as to-night.\\n10", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "CRADLE SONGS 11\\nWHEN EYELIDS DROOP.\\nLeaning into dreamland\\nWhat does baby see,\\nTouching- thus the curtains\\nOf sleep s mystery?\\nLingering till the swinging\\nOf the slumber-gates,\\nPast whose silent hinges\\nNone know what awaits.\\nLeaning into dreamland\\nO er the walls of sleep\\nRound its low-laid portals\\nDusky shadows creep\\nEver o er its borders\\nSoft clouds hover slow,\\nBearing on their bosoms\\nTwilight s afterglow.\\nO er the dreamland meadows\\nVelvet-soft the grass\\nCool and sweet it kisses\\nLittle feet that pass\\nMilky poppies nodding;\\nDaisies meek and fair\\nFolding their white fingers\\nO er their hearts in prayer.\\nLeaning into dreamland,\\nSee the white lids close,\\nSlow, ah slow the gates swing-\\nAs the baby goes.\\nDainty mouth a smiling,\\nWhat fair dreams allure?\\nSweet must be the visions\\nOf a lieart so pure", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "12 CRADLE SONGS\\nTO BABY EDNAH.\\nBaby eyes, browner than Autumn nuts,\\nClearer than stars of night,\\nSearching the souPs dim corners\\nDarkened and hid from sight:\\nBringing forth to the day-gleam,\\nHolding up to our view.\\nFeelings, fancies and longings\\nSolemn and sweet and new.\\nBaby hands, dimpled and soft and small,\\nSea-shell dainty and fair.\\nPlaying upon our heart-strings\\nMelodies deep and rare\\nArtists, musicians, sculptors\\nLaureled in many lands.\\nNever can move the nations\\nAs the touch of a baby s hands.\\nBaby smiles, soft as the sunshine,\\nFlooding the fields in May,\\nBringing to flower and fruitage,\\nSeeds that are hidden away.\\nWakening life to beauty;\\nBidding the mists arise;\\nRevealing adown dim vistas\\nGlimpses of Paradise.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "CRADLE SONGS 18\\nSWEETHEART BOY.\\nTwo small hands remorselessly,\\nPush the waiting work away\\nTwo red lips are pressed to mine,\\nTwo plump arms my neck entwine.\\nWhile the brownest of brown eyes\\nHelp the soft voice emphasize\\nKiss a Sweetheart Boy.\\nLittle two-year-old is he,\\nFilling all the house with glee\\nShouting, laughing at his play.\\nInto mischief all the day;\\nThen, when twilight shadows creep,\\nPleading Mamma, rock to sleep.\\nBock a Sweetheart Boy.\\nPrecious little Sweetheart Boy,\\nThy short life has given joy.\\nMore to be desired by far\\nThan all earthly treasures are.\\nGod and Heaven would nearer be\\nCould we only learn of thee\\nLittle Sweetheart Boy.\\nMOTHER GOOSE HOUR.\\nOne in the cradle and one on my knee.\\nBoth are as sleepy as sleepy can be\\nDroop the long lashes o^er each drowsy eye\\nWhile lips plead, Sing Blackie-Birds\\nBaked in a Pie.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "14 CRADLE 80XGS\\nLower and slower and sleepier too\\nComes the petition, Sing Little Boy Blue.\\nOne is asleep ere the final notes drop,\\nBut the other pleads faintly for,\\n0n the Ti-ee-Top.\\nBock-a-bye Baby, as leaves of a rose\\nThe red lips are parted with When\\nthe wind blows,\\nWhen the bough breaks how the soft\\nbreathings fall\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nDown shall come rock-a-bye,\\nBaby and all.\\nAT BEDTIME.\\nI kissed the crown of her curly head.\\nMy little maiden of three\\nHer shoulders smooth and her lips so red,\\nHer feet and each dimpled knee\\nNow where you found such sweet kisses, I said,\\nIs more than Mamma can see.\\nFrom the innocent eyes the laughter fled\\nWhy, God put em there when He made me.\\nCAROL, MY BABY.\\nMother kisses your fingers, Precious,\\nKisses them o er and o er\\nAnd there s born a bliss with each silent kiss\\nThat s better than all earth s store.\\nBetter than wealth and fame. Precious,\\nBetter than passion wild,\\nFor naught but the love of God above\\nIs as mother^s love for her child.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "CRADLE SONGS. 15\\nMother kisses your fingers, Precious,\\nDainty and lily-fair.\\nAnd the deeps of your eyes like May time skies\\nAre holy as shrines for prayer.\\nAh, God is good to us mothers,\\nGiving us such as thou,\\nAnd looking on thee in thy purity\\nWe catch the light from His brow.\\nMother kisses your fingers, Precious,\\nTaught by each lingering kiss\\nThat the luring fires of denied desires\\nAre as dross to the gold of this.\\nI am humble before you. Precious,\\nOf such are the Kingdom of Light,\\nAnd the path of the soul to its far-off goal\\nI see with a plainer sight.\\nBEDTIME STORIES.\\nMy little girl-birdie is sleepy to-night\\nHer brown eyes are tired as can be,\\nHer feet are a- weary with playing all day\\nAnd she climbs on my welcoming knee.\\nNow tell me she whispers, close nestled and warm,\\n^Bout once, Oh a long time ago.\\nWhen Mamma was little and lived on a farm\\nAnd slided down hill in the snow.\\n**N en tell bout the bossies and little white lambs\\nAnd the chickies as cute as can be.\\nAnd, Oh Mamma, tell bout the tiny round beds\\nThat the birdies hang up in a tree.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "16 CBADLE SOj^GS\\nAnd please Mamma, tell bout the funny brown fish\\nThat play in the water so deep,\\nAnd tell but the sweet eyes are hidden at last\\nThe little giii-birdie s asleep.\\nTO AZALENE.\\nSweetest thy age of all the years,\\nDear little two-year-old.\\nEach day a pearl from the Heavenly Shore\\nStrung on a cord of gold.\\nGiven from God s hand one by one,\\nPrecious and pure and blest.\\nAt sunset slipping away again\\nIn the mother s heart to rest.\\nBABY LORAIN.\\nOh, little March Crocus, so fragrant.\\nWe ve a message to tell, sweet and true;\\nA flower bloomed for us today. Crocus,\\nAs fair and as dainty as you.\\nOh Sunshine, across the floor lying,\\nA Sunbeam as pure and as bright\\nTo-day has dropped down out of Heaven,\\nAnd filled all our home with its light.\\nOh Bird, singing out in the meadow.\\nWe have caught from the Beautiful Shore\\nA Song from the heart of an Angel,\\nTo sing in our lives evermore.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "Patriotic ^onas.\\nTHE SOLDIERS OF OHIO.\\nOh, broad and fair Ohio, a hundred years ago\\nUnbroken were thy solitudes, unchecked thy rivers flow.\\nAcross thy bosom far and near the solemn forests grew,\\nAnd wild and free o er many a league the winds of winter\\nblew.\\nNo prophet dreamed thy destiny, no seer foretold thy fame?\\nA hundred years seems all too short to build so great a name.\\nA hundred years, Ohio, and now o er all the land.\\nThy signal-towers of valor on every hill-top stand.\\nThy warriors and thy statesmen, a legion true and brave,\\nTo guard the nation s honor, the nation s name to save-\\nNo other state among us can raise aloft her shield\\nAnd show so bright a record upon so fair a field.\\nOh, marvelous Ohio, what noble sons are thine;\\nHark! rivers of the southland; and list! ye northern pine;\\nNo stronger, grander manhood or North or South can show\\nOr point to names more honored, where er the breezes blow.\\nAye, thou hast reared, Ohio, thy groves and streams beside,\\nMen whom the nations reverence with gratitude and pride.\\nBear witness. Oh ye battlefields, with christening-cups of\\nblood\\nBear witness. Oh ye rivers, that ran with crimson flood,\\nBear witness, hills and meadows by cannon rent and torn;\\nOhio s sons have through you all Ohio s standard borne;\\nIn camp or march or bivouac, or on the death-swept plain,\\nHer sword knew not dishonor, her banner knew not stain.\\n17", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "18 PATRIOTIC SONGS\\nThe soldiers of Ohio Oh may the day ne er come\\nWhen gratitude is wanting-, or lips of praise be dumb;\\nThe mothers who have borne them, and trained them duty-\\nward,\\nThe wives whose prayers rose daily as incense to the Lord,\\nWhose hearts kept time to drum-beats, and tears poured\\nout like rain\\nNow let them share the honor as they have shared the pain.\\nAnd thou, beloved Ohio, as long as time shall last\\nMay still be found thy record as fair as in the past;\\nAnd when the last brave comrade is mustered out for aye,\\nWhen side by side o er all the land in silent ranks they lie\\nThen may their sons and daughters be still in name and\\ndeed\\nAs brave, as strong, as loyal to serve the nation s need.\\nOUR ARMY.\\nYe boast your standing army, O countries far away,\\nA million idle soldiers whom starving peasants pay.\\nA horde who know no service but ceaseless drill and dress,\\nLearned in the vices of the camp, the lore of idleness.\\nYour young men, noble Kaiser, and yours, O mighty Czar,\\nAre brave in lace and uniform, in golden band and star;\\nYour peasants wear sad faces, your women plow and sow,\\nAnd bound in labor s harness the very dogs must go.\\nYour people know not happiness they live in hopeless need\\nBut you boast your standing army which they must toil to\\nfeed.\\nWe have a standing army;\u00e2\u0080\u0094 there in the furrowed field\\nThey sow the seed, and gather the harvest s golden yield.\\nThey stand behind the counters, they drive the iron steeds,\\nAt desk or forge or factory they meet a nation s needs.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "PATBIOTIC SONGS 19\\nThey know the sweets of labor, they eat the bread of toil,\\nAcross the mighty land they reach, where e*er is freedom s\\nsoil;\\nBut let one voice demand them, let but one drum-beat fall\\nFrom out a million happy homes they answer to the call:\\nNo star upon our banner but makes its quota good;\\nAnd rich and poor and black and white know naught but\\nbrotherhood.\\nMEMORIAL DAY.\\nYes, we are thoughtless, you and I,\\nSelfish and thoughtless and know it not;\\nThe thievish years as they hasten by\\nHave blinded our eyes and seared our heart.\\nIn what are we selfish? In this, my Friend,\\nThat we sit at rest in our pleasant land.\\nWhere power and liberty meet and blend.\\nWrapped in a peace which is royal, grand.\\nAnd we give no thought to the souls that fled\\nThousands on thousands that peace to buy:\\nWe give no thought to the hearts that bled\\nBled and broke to see dear one^s die.\\nScarcely the sounds of their drums has died.\\nThe echo of marching feet grown still\\nScarcely the stain of their blood has dried\\nO er a thousand miles of meadow and hill.\\nAnd we, their kindred, with careless hand\\nReap the blessings they fought and won.\\nAnd all too seldom our hearts expand\\nFor those who slumber, their life-work done.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "20 PATRLOTIU SOJSTGS\\nWe cannot pay them the debt we owe\\nCan we pay our God for the care he gives?\\nCan we paj^ for a Mother s love? Ah, no.\\nSuch debts are debts while the debtor lives*\\nSo our soldier martyrs we cannot pay\\nEarth has no coin for a work so great,\\nBut our gratitude can be theirs for aye,\\nAnd honor and love on their memory wait.\\nAnd ever as passing years shall bring\\nThe day to their memory set apart,\\nMay blossoms of love and thankfulness spring\\nIn the garden-ground of each loyal heart.\\nAnd when, in a far off day unknown\\nOur country is called no longer young.\\nBut mightier far and wiser grown.\\nStill by its sons may their praise be sung.\\nTHEY HAVE STRUCK THEIR TENTS.\\nThe strife is over, the years have fled;\\nThe grasses cover the slumbering dead;\\nPeaceful and fair beneath the sky\\nThe battlefields nnd the trenches lie;\\nSilent and grim each black-mouthed gun\\nSince the tents were struck when the war was done.\\nMany a spring with its gold and green\\nNorth and Southland alike have seen\\nSince a host, triumphant, marched once more\\nBack to the North and the homestead door.\\nLeaving a host, both Blue and Gray,\\nWho had struck their tents till the Judgment Day.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "PATRIOTIC SONGS 21\\nNo more die men by a brother s hand,\\nPlease God forever, in our fair land.\\nBut fast, ah fast do the soldiers fall\\nBy the grim sharpshooter who waits for all;\\nEach day for some are life s battles done.\\nAnd they strike their tents, aye, one by one.\\nSteadily, steadily, day by day,\\nIs the great host marching away, away.\\nThey hark to the signal more and more,\\n^^Fall in, fall in, for another shore;\\nAnd they strike their tents in the morning light\\nAnd pass forever from earthly sight.\\nBut though they go from this land of ours\\nTo the still, green beds which we deck with flowers,\\nThough the blue-clad columns year by year\\nIn slower, thinner ranks appear\\nYet never, never, though we part.\\nWill they strike their tents in the nation*s heart.\\nAnd comrades, brothers who dared to go\\nIn the name of Freedom to face the foe\\nWhen you re ^mustered out at the last roll-call,\\nDischarged with honor be each and all:\\nMay they answer gladlj where e er they roam\\nWhen the tents are struck and the ^boys go home.\\nTHE PASSING HOST.\\nAcross the midnight sky it lies.\\nFar-reaching, vast and grand.\\nThe unsolved mystery of the skies\\nO er every sea and land I", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "22 PATRIOTIC SONGS\\nThe milky way. The darkness shows\\nIts wond rous notes and bars\\nA heavenly score which pales and glows\\nWhile sing the morning stars.\\nIt lends the gloomy dome of night\\nIts beauty and its grace\\nAnd scatters radiance and light\\nOn every land and race.\\nBut when the dim faint tints of morn\\nForetell the coming day,\\nEre yet within the east is born,\\nThe first resplendent ray,\\nThen swift, ah, swift, its glory goes.\\nIts marvels disappear\\nIts radiance fainter, fainter grows,\\nAnd dawning day draws near,\\nE en thus across our country s sky,\\nWhen sudden darkness fell.\\nWhen hearts grew faint at dangers nigh,\\nAnd none the way could tell,\\nThere flashed a radiance far and near,\\nA myriad stars aglow.\\nBlending and gleaming fair and clear,\\nA host no man might know.\\nHeroic souls who fainted not.\\nStrong hearts that would not fail.\\nBrave eyes that watched while others fought;\\nFair faces, sad and pale.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "PATBIOTIG SONGS 23\\nThey made the darkness glorious,\\nThey pierced the deepest night,\\nThey spoke a cause victorious,\\nThe triumph of the right.\\nThe midnight passed and one by one\\nWe watched them fade and die;\\nAnd as they go, may night be done\\nAnd dawning day draw nigh.\\nAye, those that struggled, those that wept,\\nThrough hours of doubt and fear.\\nIn silence from our sight are swept;\\nAnd, lo the morn is here.\\nA new, grand morn for all the world,\\nThe Twentieth Century\\nMay earth with every flag unfurled\\nSalute it in the sky.\\nAnd thou, oh God of war and peace,\\nWhile nations rise and fall.\\nHaste now the day when strife shall cease\\nAnd love shine over all.\\nGREETINGS TO THE VETERANS.\\nOnce in a far-off country,\\nWhen, after a conquest grand.\\nThe King and his hosts came marching\\nHome to the fatherland.\\nAs they neared the gates of the city\\nThe watchman upon the wall\\nWith trumpets summoned the people\\nEagerly waiting the call.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "24 PATRIOTIC SONGS\\nThen out they thronged from the cottage,\\nAnd out from the palace gay,\\nTo welcome with shouts and music\\nThe army from far away.\\nCheer after cheer re-echoed\\nAs the weary soldiers came\\nMarked with the stains of warfare,\\nFootman and horse the same.\\nCheers for the guarded captives,\\nSullen irom fear and pain:\\nCheers for the spoils of conquest\\nBorne in a long-drawn train.\\nBut hush And the cheers are silent;\\nWhat do the heralds call?\\nThey come The Kin^ and his legion,\\nThe bravest and best of all\\nThen the people bend in reverence\\nWith never a cheer nor cry,\\nAnd the silence is deep and solemn\\nWhile the Ring is passing by.\\nCheers are for all the others,\\nGlad do the echoes ring,\\nBut silence, only silence\\nFor the legion of the King;\\nAnd thus we stand, O Veteran,\\nBefore you here to-day.\\nOur lips but poorly fashion\\nThe thoughts our hearts would say.\\nFor words, oft-times so mighty.\\nAre weak and faltering now\\nAnd silence seems most fitting\\nIn greeting such as thou.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "PATRIOTIC SONGS 25\\nWe think of homes made desolate,\\nOf loving hearts that broke,\\nOf lives laid down by thousands\\nAmid the battle-smoke\\nOf suffering unfathomed\\nIn prison-pen and field,\\nOf cold and hunger hearts that bled\\nBut knew not how to yield.\\nWe think of what we owe to thee:\\nA broad and glorious land,\\nIn peace and liberty unmatched,\\nIn union strong and grand\\nWhich fears no foe which floats a flag\\nBeloved on every sea;\\nWith homes secure mid fruitful fields,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nAll this we owe to thee.\\nAnd so, with hearts which seek in vain\\nFor fitting words, we bow:\\nThe whole wide country greeteth thee\\nWith silent reverence now\\nAnd while the stars and stripes shall wave,\\nTheir voiceless speech shall be,\\nOn whatsoever sea or shore,\\nA greeting unto thee.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "rATBIOTIC 80]^ G8\\nDECORATION DAY.\\nEchoing over the land to-day,\\nBy the sands of the ocean dying away,\\nA thousand voices in word and song\\nMourn for the fallen, mourn for the strong.\\nA thousand hands lay the May-time bloom\\nOver the sleeping soldiers tomb,\\nAnd thousands think of the graves that lie\\nUnknown, unhonored beneath the sky.\\nThirty years have the light and shade\\nOver their resting-places played\\nThirty years since the war-cloud broke,\\nThirty years since the echoes woke:\\nAnd ten times thirty shall circle round\\nAnd still shall the pulsing echoes sound,\\nAnd names shall live as the years roll on\\nAs liveth the name of Marathon.\\nThirty years o er the blood-drenched plains\\nHave fallen the mournful Autumn rains;\\nThirty springs o er the war-scarred hills\\nHave wafted the breath of daffodils\\nBut shower nor blossom nor waving grain\\nNever can blot out Gettysburg s stain.\\nNor the storms of a thousand years erase\\nThe path to the sea that Sherman traced.\\nTo-day how memory wakes to life\\nIn the breasts of those who watched the strife,\\nWhether under the Southern skies\\nSeeing the battle-smoke arise.\\nOr under the milder Northern sun\\nWhere the heart s fierce battles were lost or won;\\nMatrons to-day, and gray-haired men\\nThey were but youths and maidens then.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "PATRIOTIC SOJsrGS 27\\nAgain they hear across the years\\nThe country s call for volunteers,\\nAnd feel once more the awful thrill\\nThat heralded the Nation s ill.\\nAgain as the rolling drum- beat falls\\nThey hear the shout o er Sumpter s walls,\\nOr see the first warm Mfe-blood pour\\nIn the crowded streets of Baltimore.\\nA thousand veterans fight anew\\nShiloh and Fair Oaks of 62.\\nSee Ghickamauga s blood-stained breast\\nOr gaze on Lookout s cloud-capped crest.\\nRebel prisons their scenes unfold,\\nWeary marches, hunger and cold.\\nThe cheer of the camp, the game, the song.\\nAnd all that to soldiers lives belong.\\nBut cometh the day when none shall say\\nDo you remember of Blue or Gray.\\nCometh the day when far or near\\nNone to the roll-call answer here.\\nCometh the day and cometh fast\\nWhen the last of the thinning ranks has passed\\nAnd a legion lie neath the blooms of May\\nWho follow the beating drums to-day.\\nBut not the least of the battles fought,\\nNot the least of the great deeds wrought\\nWere done afar from the scenes of strife\\nAfar from the sound of drum and fife.\\nWere done by wives, by daughters fair,\\nBy suffering mothers everywhere.\\nWho, knowing not Gethsemane s gloom,\\nGethsemane find at the cross and tomb.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "28 PATRIOTIC 80NQ8\\nThe crowd of the martyr they may not bear\\nThe vestments of honor they may not wear,\\nNo roster ever hath borne their name\\nThey hold no rank in the lists of fame,\\nBut on Freedom s Altar they feed the blaze\\nAs the Vestal Virgins in Rome s great days.\\nAnd a mighty debt to their hearts and hands\\nIn the Nation s unread record stands.\\nAnd soldiers, sleeping beneath the dew\\nOr wearing still the Army Blue,\\nAll honor to thy deed and name,\\nWhate er thy rank, whatever thy fame,\\nFor deeds shall live though brows lie cold\\nAnd memories fade to legends old.\\nAnd Freedom aye shall deck thy tombs\\nWith gratitude s unfading blooms.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "Reliaious Poems^\\nUNTO THE HILLS.\\nUnto the hills from whence cometh our strength,\\nGrandly the chorus of Israel thrills.\\nSmall wonder, O Psalmist, the wings of thy music,\\nCarried thy soul like a bird to the hills.\\n*I will lift up mine eyes, so the melody ringeth.\\nAway from earth s trials, and struggles, and sin,\\nUnto the hills where the Father s hand resteth.\\nEmblems of strength that is mighty to win.\\nUnto the hills never failing and peaceful;\\nFirm mid the tempest through ages untold\\nMillions the feet which their pathways have trodden;\\nMillions the graves which their bosoms enfold.\\n*From whence cometh our strength, O Creator and Father,\\nThou in whose might earth s high places can trust,\\nThou, and Thou only, our need of strength knoweth,\\nWho remembereth that we, like the mountains, are dust.\\nStrength for life s daily temptations and trials\\nStrength to be patient with friend as with foe;\\nStrength for Thy charity, strength for forgiving.\\nAs we Thy forgiveness, O Father would know.\\nStrength to live strongly and nobly before Thee,\\nHast ning Thy kingdom with labor and prayer.\\nHumble with sense of our guilt and our weakness.\\nStrong in Thy strength and secure in Thy care.\\n29", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "30 RELIGIOUS POEMS\\nUnto the hills in their grandeur and beauty,\\nLovingly, trustingly, lift we our eyes.\\nThanksgiving and jjraise from earth s hilltops, O Father,\\nForever like incense to Thee shall arise.\\nTHE BENEDICTION.\\nWe stood before him with bended heads\\nIn the hush of the Sabbath, with one accord.\\n^And now may you grow in Grace, he said,\\n^And in knowledge and love of Christ, our Lord.\\nThe music echoed from dome and wall\\nDrowning the greeting and low-voiced word,\\nAnd throbbing and murmuring through it all\\nOver and over again I heard\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nGrow in Grace how the echoes rang!\\nAnd in knowledge and love, O Christ, of Thee.\\nTill the chords of my heart responsive sang,\\nAnd a prayer rose out of the melody.\\nOh Master, Thou with a voice so winning.\\nLove and peace in Thine eyes divine,\\nHelp us, willful and blind and sinning.\\nThat down on our hearts Thy light may shine.\\nFor a greater change than the Springtime maketh\\nEarth and its suffering hosts shall know.\\nWhen the light of life in each heart awaketh\\nAnd in love and knowledge of Thee we grow.\\nGrow in Grace, O our Lord and Master,\\nHaste, we pray Thee, the blessed day.\\nWhen truth and righteousness, fast and faster\\nBanish hatred and greed away.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS POEMS 81\\nWhen knowledge of Thee shall be richest treasure,\\nSought as men seek for gold and fame.\\nAnd our lives shall grow to their grandest measure,\\nIn grace and love of Thy wondrous Name.\\nNO OTHER NAME.\\nJjying for alms at the Beautiful Gate\\nHelpless and maimed did the lame man wait;\\nDaily the worshipers passed him by,\\nFleet and active, eager of eye.\\nDaily of pity and alms they gave,\\nBut none of the throng could help or save.\\nNaught did he know of the city s strife,\\nNaught did he know of the flow of life.\\nJoy of boyhood and youth s warm zeal.\\nStrength of manhood, he ne er could feel:\\nHopelessly, wearily, life s drear day-\\nMorning and noontide, passed away.\\nCame there two on that long gone day\\nPlain in raiment and poor were they\\nBut none of the stately Pharisees bore\\nOn face or figure the grace they wore\\nStrength and wisdom and love and rest\\nPeter, forgiven, and John tlie Blest.\\n**Silver and gold have I none said he,\\n**But such as I have will I give unto thee.\\nIn the name of the Christ wlio from Nazareth came.\\nRise up and walk. Ah, the wonderful Name\\nHe lifted the maimed one, hand in hand.\\nAnd over him flooded a life-tide grand.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "82 BELfGIOUS POEMS\\nOn the morrow they questioned them, rulers grave\\nElders and priests, By what power to save,\\nBy what marvelous Name did ye this thing do?\\nList to the words to eternity true\\n^There is no other Name among men known,\\nAble to save us, but Christ s alone.\\nNo other Name, oh, sin-maimed earth.\\nHelpless and suffering, lame from birth\\nNo other Name, oh, ye who lie\\nCrushed and trampled, ready to die.\\nNo other Name; but humanity s woes\\nChrist, the tempted and crucified, knows.\\nHopeless, ye sit at the Beautiful Gate;\\nNaught do ye know of the joys that wait.\\nBowed neath thy burden beside the way.\\nFalling and perishing day by day.\\nNo other name beneath the skies.\\nBut the Name of the Christ can bid thee rise.\\nCHRISTIAN ENDEAVOR.\\nLet us broaden our hearts, O Brothers;\\nLet love grow up in our souls\\nTill over the whole, wide, suffering earth.\\nThe tidal wave. Charity, rolls.\\nLet us scorn not humanity. Brothers;\\nOut of Nazareth cometh the Christ,\\nFor the lowly, the sinful, the weary.\\nWere his glory and life sacrificed.\\nLet us rise above selfishness. Brothers;\\nRound us heaven showers its store.\\nThere are many on earth who have nothings\\nCan their poverty be at our door?", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "BELIGIOUS POEMS 33\\nAye, many and many, My Brothers,\\nBorn to suffering, wretchedness, shame.\\nOh can we not reach them and help them,\\nIn His love and the power of His name?\\nTo the least of these, think, O My Brothers;\\nWe living for self and for friend.\\nTo our ears is the Inasmuch coming.\\nWhen life shall have rounded the end\\nThen low at the feet of the Master,\\nIn love and in shame let us bow\\nThe world Thou hast died for. Our Saviour,\\nO, help us to live for it now.\\nPOST TENEBRAS LUX.\\nThrough the valleys slowly wending,\\nHope and doubt forever blending.\\nPrayer for guidance upward sending,\\nWe await the dawning day.\\nThrough the darkness piercing never,\\nHeld by bonds we cannot sever.\\nStill out-reaching, striving ever.\\nWe are guided on our way.\\nWoe and gladness mingled meet us.\\nVoice of foe and lover greet us.\\nUpward still the pathways lead us.\\nOn to joy and peace and rest.\\nWeary hands shall soon be light,\\nMortal vision dim grow bright,\\nWaiting hearts shall see aright.\\nFreedom come to souls opprest.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "84 BELiaiOUS POEMS\\nThough the pathway be but drear,\\nSee the hill-tops grow more clear,\\nDraweth now the dawning near,\\nHeart, look upward, onward press.\\nStill the beck ning hand pursue,\\nFailing strength again renew.\\nPower will come to be and do,\\nSoon we ll wear immortal dress.\\nAnd at last the journey ending.\\nWe, the mountain-tops ascending\\nView the day-break glories blending\\nWith the scattering shades of night.\\nFree from all the chains that bound us,\\nFree from all the shadows round us,\\nSoon the sunrise shall have found us,\\nAfter darkness comes the light.\\nCHILDREN OF GOD.\\nCall us not servants, Lord, we pray.\\nBut children, often led astray;\\nChildren who love, but disobey.\\nWho wander, while the sun is bright.\\nFar from a loving Father s sight,\\nBut haste to him when nears the night.\\nWho, heedless, till the day has fled\\nHave loitered where their fancy led,\\nThen look to Thee for daily bread.\\nCall us not servants, is our prayer.\\nChildren, who crave thy constant care,\\nThy tenderness beyond compare.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS POEMS 35\\nWho would thy will should shape their deeds,\\nBut know an Elder Brother pleads\\nFor each frail child that pardon needs.\\nOUR DWELLING PLACE.\\nAfter the toil of the day and its trials,\\nLife s disappointments, hope s constant denials.\\nAfter the efforts that ended in failing,\\nAfter the laughter whose echo was wailing,\\nAfter the seeking that never is finding.\\nAfter the pathway so rough and so winding.\\nWayworn and weak with our wearisome roaming.\\nTurn we at last in the star-lighted gloaming\\nHome to onr Dwelling Place, Father, in Thee.\\nFortress art Thou, sin s besiegers defying.\\nBeautiful Palace, heart s longings supplying,\\nBefuge, with enemy never molesting,\\nHome for the weary, with loving and resting.\\nAltar that satisfies all the soul s yearning.\\nSchool, with no end to its wonderful learning,\\nDown through all ages, in all generations\\nUp from the deeps of earth struggle the Nations\\nSeeking their Dwelling Place, Father, in Thee.\\nSATISFIED.\\nOh, the hungry, longing Soul,\\nAs the solemn ages roll\\nSeeketh ever, seeketh ever, somewhere to abide.\\nSeeketh food and shelter meet,\\nSeeketh friends and converse sweet,\\nSeeketh pleasant waters with meadows green beside.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "86 BELIGIOUS POEMS\\nEvery age and every clime\\nSince the sunny morn of Time\\nHas the Soul, blindfolded, wandered far and wide.\\nTreading sad and weary\\nDeserts wide and dreary,\\nFeeding, royal prodigal, on husks for swine supplied.\\nBuilding temples treasure-trove\\nTo Mahomet, Buddha, Jove,\\nFinding not in all its quest the God for which it cried.\\nFinding refuge never.\\nDread and darkness ever,\\nSorrow, toil and anguish, death and naught beside.\\nHaste, oh haste the glorious dawn\\nOf the long-awaited morn\\nWhen the Soul, returning, seeks its Father s side.\\nHaste, Oh God, the day supernal\\nWhen we, through Thy love eternal,\\nIn Thy likeness waking, shall be satisfied.\\n*A QUARTER CENTURY.\\nAs out-bound sailors turn to view\\nthe fast receding shore.\\nOr pilgrims up the mountain-side,\\ngaze back the pathway o er,\\nE en thus our steps have halted, to\\nscan the path we tread\\nA quarter-century beliind.\\nEternity, ahead.\\nA quarter-century of toil, of faith\\nand hope and pain\\nA quarter-century of love,\\nof blessing and of gain,\\n\u00e2\u0099\u00a6Read at the twenty-llfih anniversary of the founding of a church.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "BELIGI0U8 POEMS 37\\nOf deeds imprinted by the stern\\nRecording Angel s hand,\\nOf words, perchance, which may not die,\\nwhile earthly hilltops stand.\\nFor who can weigh the value of\\nprayers and hopes and tears.\\nOr measure out the fruitfulness\\nof five and twenty years?\\nAye, as the May-flower started,\\nthat morning long ago,\\nDeep-freighted with what issues,\\nthe Lord alone could know,\\nSo starts each band that ventures\\nacross Time s unknown sea,\\nThy Kingdom Come, their watch-word,\\ntheir port. Eternity.\\nNo nobler work, O Brothers,\\ncan human hands essay,\\nThan in the Master s service\\nto labor day by day.\\nNo other field so mighty, no other\\nend so sure,\\nNo other fruits so glorious,\\nso certain to endure.\\nNo other life so happy, so peaceful\\nand so blest,\\nNo other pathway leading on\\nto God s eternal rest.\\nWho knows what feet within these walls\\nto straighter paths have turned?\\nWho knows what hearts beneath this roof\\nwith purer thoughts have burned?\\nWho knows what waves of blessing, have\\nstarted from this door.\\nForever widening onward to Heaven s\\nunchanging shore?", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "38 BELIGIO US P0E3fS\\nWith thankful hearts we gather\\nin this His temple, now;\\nWith humblest gratitude and love,\\nbefore His throne we bow;\\nTo Him who thus hath led us, and\\nblest us on the way,\\nWhose grace has been our sure defence^\\nwhose love has been our stay.\\nWhose mercy and whose tenderness\\nare an unfailing store,\\nTo Him be love and service, and\\npraise forevermore.\\nAnd yet, what heart but saddens,\\nat thought of good undone?\\nOf anger unforgiven at setting of\\nthe sun?\\nOf suffering unlightened.\\nOf prison doors unsought?\\nDefeat instead of victory in many\\nbattles fought?\\nOf judgment for the erring,\\ninstead of loving aid?\\nOf halting feet which often from\\nnarrow paths have strayed?\\nGod give us strength and wisdom\\nGod teach our hearts to see\\nThe beauty of unselfishness\\nThe joy of ministry.\\nGod broaden out our vision,\\nthat we may feel indeed\\nThe pleadings of humanity,\\nthe world s unfathomed need;\\nThat we may know ourselves sent out,\\nas Christ was sent of old.\\nAnd hear him saying, Feed my lambs,\\nand bring them to the fold.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "BELIGI0U8 FOE 318 3^\\nGod teach our hearts to covet\\nHis wondrous gifts in store^.\\nTill earthly wealth and honor,\\nshall tempt us nevermore^\\nGod guide us in his service\\ntill all at last shall know.\\nThe peace which consecration\\ncan on our hearts bestow;\\nAnd when at last is finished\\nfor each this earthly race,\\nAnd from His church below we rise\\nto see the Master s face.\\nWith strivings all behind us,\\nlife s toilsome journey run,\\nO Father, Master, may we hear\\nthine accents say, Well done.\\nSTEWAllDSHIP.\\nThou hast said, O Lord, that the earth is thine,.\\nThe earth and its fullness are thine alone.\\nYet we hoard and keep what is not our own,\\nAnd say in our hearts. All this is mine.\\nForgive us. Lord, that thy children die-\\nStarve and die in a broad, fair land.\\nPerish daily in reach of our hand.\\nAnd we on the other side pass by.\\nNay, more; so long have our eyes been blind,\\nSo long is our Stewardship forgot.\\nThough the cries are legion we hear them not,\\nNor think that our hand should the death-wound bind*\\nO, master, forgive, that thy name we bear.\\nBut thy garment of pity we do not wear.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "40 RELIGIOUS POEMS\\nMUMMIES.\\nWe re munimies, friend, we re raummies, I say,\\nDeep under Pyramids hidden away,\\nThe sun cannot pierce the stones that rise\\nHeavy and damp above one s eyes,\\nAnd wandering breezes perfumed rare\\nNever can touch one s brow or hair.\\nMummies embalmed with myrrh and spice,\\nAnd bitter aloes of selfishness\\nWound and bound with fold on fold\\nOf creeds and dogmas and doctrines old,\\nIn a coffin of orthodoxy strong\\nSlumbering peacefully, sound and long.\\nThe stones above us are massive and cold.\\nCut from the quarries old, so old,\\nOf the World s Opinions, which first and last,\\nAre found in the heart of the hill of Caste.\\nThe rivers of Mammon flow close beside\\nAnd empty into the gulf of Pride.\\nPerhaps you remember the corn that lay\\nIn the tomb of Pharaoh stored away\\nThink you the germ had started green\\nIn the thousand years since the grain was seen?\\nSeeds in creeds may be good, I know,\\nBut they need the sunligiit before they ll grow.\\nThe sunlight of Love falls warm from the sky\\nAnd life is only obtained thereby.\\nLike Moses rod, where the sunbeams knock.\\nLife s water will flow from the solid rock.\\nAnd the heart where love, shines fall and free\\nA very fountain of youth shall be.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS POEMS 41\\nMummies,! said; nay tranced instead,\\nAnd we may, if we will, arise and shed\\nEach blinding bandage, each fold unroll\\nTill the sunlight falls on the darkened soul;\\nAnd small and slight will the Pyramids be\\nCompared with the height of a soul set free.\\nPATIENCE.\\nOften, when night and its quiet falls around you,\\nWhen, after day s failures, the rest-time has found you,\\nLife s slow-yielding vineyards you scan.\\nLook up to the sky softly over you leaning.\\nAnd draw from its grandeur the clear written meaning\\nOf the Maker who careth for man.\\nPatiently labor all round us is beauty\\nLilies bloom ever where runs the path Duty,\\nLilies with hearts filled with dew.\\nIf your sun seems to set, life s light seems to fail,\\nCometh not with tlie darkness the sweet nightingale?\\nThe starlight soft-fingered and true?\\nLabor for others; thy life He is molding;\\nEver thy times in his hands He is holding;\\nHe giveth the drops as they fall.\\nThen wait, though tlie waiting be never so dreary;\\nOnly to God is thy life rounded clearly\\nHe knoweth the ending of all.\\nFate, born of God s thought, can never miscarry;\\nMan cannot force it to haste or to tarry:\\nBe patient and wait for His will.\\nAh, well for His children who chafe at His leading.\\nWho spurn the cool pastures wherein they are feeding,\\nThat He wiio is love, loveth still.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "42 liELIGIOUS FOE 31 8\\nEEVELATION.\\nA lightning flash in the night,\\nAn instant and then it is o er:\\nWhat a revelation of light\\nWhere nothing was seen before\\nThe dew-wet grass at your feet.\\nThe twigs of the beech tree there,\\nBlossoms and leaves complete\\nEtched in the sapphire air.\\nA lightning flash in the night:\\nSo, sometimes, O heart of mine,\\nThere flashes a wondrous light\\nO er those night-wrapped eyes of thine;\\nAnd they see in that moment^s sight\\nHow sinful and black thou art\\nTo a God as pure as the light\\nAnd thou bowest in shame, O heart.\\nThou seest aghast where hate,\\nMalice and vanity thrive,\\nWhere envy and jealousy mate,\\nAnd evil is kept alive.\\nThou seest a life that bears\\nThe name of the Christ in vain;\\nA mantle of selfishness wears\\nAnd strives for pleasure and gain.\\nA lightning flash in the night:\\nSo, sometimes, out of thy trance,\\nMy soul, thou wakest to sight\\nAnd knoweth thine ignorance.\\nThere flashes a concept dim\\nOf the infinite depths of Space,\\nUnthinkable save to him\\nWho watches their chariot-race.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "RELIGIOUS POEMS 43\\nThou catchest an instant s gleam\\nOf the Universe of God,\\nWhere a million worlds unseen\\nSwing in their circles broad\\nThe awfulness of the years\\nWeighing thee down, O Soul,\\nThou shrinkest with sudden fears,\\nWith dread thou canst not control.\\nANNIVERSARY HYMN.\\n[tune \u00e2\u0080\u0094Portuguese Hymn.]\\nOur hearts rise to Thee, Oh our Father above,\\nIn grateful remembrance of mercy and love,\\nThine hand hath upheld us, thine arm been our stay,\\nThy strength and thy Spirit have guided our way.\\nWe thank Thee, we praise Thee with service and Bong:\\nOur hearts and our voices to Thee do belong.\\nOur prayers would rise ever in loving accord\\nTo Him who hath saved us, through Jesus our Lord.\\nOh, lead us, and help us, and cause us to know\\nThy will and thy wishes as onward we go,\\nThy kingdom to hasten our aim in the fight.\\nThy service our pleasure, thy way our delight.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "[siscellaneous.\\nTHE DYING POET.\\nThe sunset lit the land and sea\\nThe quiet deepened round hina\\nWe would not break by word or touch\\nThe Sabbath-peace that bound him.\\nThe radiance broadened in the West;\\nThe sea was opal-gleaming;\\nThe poet murmured as he lay\\nAs children do in dreaming.\\nAnd softly did the breathed words\\nDrop into sudden rhyming\\nLike bells of long-gone Christmases\\nO er moonlit meadows chiming,\\nIn thought he was a child again,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nHis mother s voice a-calling.\\nAnd on his brow at eventide\\nSoft, sudden kisses falling.\\nThe lengthening shadows eastward fell:\\nThe crimson clouds slow drifted\\nThrough interlacing maple boughs\\nThe dazzling light was sifted.\\nAgain the measured murmurs rose;\\nHis boyhood passed before him\\nAround him were the fields and hills.\\nThe skies of youth shone o er him.\\n44", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 45\\nThe crimson West to purple turned\\nThe words fell low and tender;\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nA maiden s love-lit eyes he saw,\\nHe clasped warm fingers slender.\\nThe sea grew gray. From distant hills\\nThe radiance faded slowly.\\nThe poet s voice to silence died;\\nThe room was hushed and holy.\\nThicker the shades around us fell;\\nHis breath came slow and slower:\\nThe golden gleams upon the West\\nGrew dimmer still and lower.\\nWe bent above the peaceful face,\\nLove s tender smile still wearing.\\nFar in the sky the drifting clouds\\nDay s last, faint gleam were bearing.\\nWe knew on other, fairer lands\\nThe sunrise light was breaking.\\nTo life and love the jjoet s soul\\nBeyond the sun was waking.\\nJUNE.\\nTo the lyre, O Apollo! June cometh again;\\nSound her praises abroad to the children of men.\\nBegal June Straight from Heaven her pathway she takes.\\nO er the earth s pulsing heart her sweet censer she shakes.\\nO beauty, awaken O perfume arise\\nO birds, sound your choral beneath the far skies!\\nLife is fair, O Queen June, with thy sceptre awave;\\nEarth has turned to a bridal instead of a grave.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "46 MISCELLANEOUS\\nO ye barriers finite, the angel-bands throng\\nSo close to thy portals we catch their far song,\\nAnd the air is a- tremble with ecstacy deep,\\nFor the spirit of love has awakened from sleep.\\nThe flower-bells are ringing their anthems of praise,\\nThe leaves of the forest their glad chorus raise\\nAll nature has marshaled her forces in tune.\\nTo the Giver of beauty, the Giver of June.\\nLift your eyes, O humanity, see and rejoice;\\nLet your gladness thrill out from your hearts through your\\nvoice;\\nLet the psean of thankfulness heavenward roll\\nFrom the midst of His love, praise the Lord, O my soul!\\nCOBWEBS.\\nOver and over within my mind.\\nBack from a childliood golden,\\nA picture comes of a volume worn,\\nCoverless, dog-eartd, battered and torn.\\nSacred mongst juvenile treasurers borne,\\nMother Goose Melodies olden.\\nFolly of follies, we think, and smile,\\nRecalling its childish fancies;\\nAnd yet, perchance, it is better far\\nThan many weightier volumes are;\\nNo harmful teachings its pages mar.\\nNo evil its charm enhances.\\nOne pictured tale I remember well,\\nAs o er them memory lingers,\\nAbout the old woman who flew so high\\nTo sweep the cobwebs out of the sky.\\nWith pointed cap and her hair awry.\\nAnd a worn old broom in her fingers.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 47\\nChildish and foolish the little rhyme:\\nYet often the thought arises\\nThat under the folly there still may be\\nA lesson lying for you and me,\\nFor deepest truths we may sometimes see\\nUnder most strange disguises.\\nHow many a grave reformer now.\\nIn this, the age of reformers.\\nWith vigorous broom and i^iercing eye\\nIs trying to cleanse the whole wide sky\\nOf dusty webs that he claims to spy\\nIn all of its distant corners\\nAnd are we not prone, in a narrower way\\nTo think our efforts are needed\\nTo sweep some particular spot of blue.\\nWhere we fancy the light does not shine through\\nWith all the power it were equal to\\nIf only its course were heeded?\\nAh, let us come down to our own small lives,\\nDown to our own heart s chambers,\\nUse our brooms on the cobwebs here.\\nThen when the walls are swept and clear\\nWe^ll have better right to interfere\\nWith the cobwebs blinding our neighbors.\\nBut I think ere our task is done we ll say.\\nIf we give our honest opinions.\\nThat life is too short and our strength too small.\\nTo leave us any leisure at all\\nFor sweeping down cobwebs large or small\\nOutside of our own dominions.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "4 8 MIS ELL A Js -E US\\nDEAD\u00e2\u0080\u0094 AGED 26.\\nTHE END IS VISION.\\nAnd so the problem s solved, solved easily,\\nAs other problems are, by the Master s touch.\\nHow simple the equation in the light\\nOf this solution, so abstruse before.\\nThe blame, the strife, the hurt, the scanty praise,\\nToo scanty far for the love-yearning heart\\nThe clipping wings to bring to earthly use\\nA creature not of earth\u00e2\u0080\u0094 how vain is all\\nIn view of this, the problem perfected\\nAnd death, not life, the unknown quantity.\\nWhat use, he always said, -this mone3^-strifey\\nThis searcii for knowledge, wisdom of the world?\\nWhat use indeed, with Heaven ahead, not earth\\nBack-gazing o er the life we blamed so much\\nFor lacking earthly purpose, how the words\\nOf one another youth come, Wist ye not,\\nTo chiding Mother, I must be about\\nMy Father s business? Ah, Mary blamed, and yet\\nShe had the angels message. We had none.\\nAnd, after all, the blame grew out of love\\nWith her and us. Blind-folded human love.\\nWe d be no wiser for more messages.\\nSome lives there are whose work on earth is more\\nTo be than do. Eternity shows fruit.\\nAnd now the flowers, the perfume,\u00e2\u0080\u0094 heavy, rich,\\nThe music, eulogy, love-prompted\u00e2\u0080\u0094 all.\\nI wonder how^ they look these things to a soul\\nThree days in Heaven. All the grief, remorse,\\nThe agony to eyes now opened clear\\nTo the largeness of God s plan. Each reason plain\\nFor every step so erstwhile purposeless.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 49\\nThe straightriess of His leadings\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Ah, my friend,\\nThat s where we fail, that s where the blindness comes:\\nHis plan\u00e2\u0080\u0094 His leadings, we would wrest away\\nAs petulant children from the father- hand\\nAnd live our lives and guide our children s lives\\nBy our own small wisdom s measure,\u00e2\u0080\u0094 plan for earth,\\nWhile He plans for Eternity and Heaven.\\nLife s bitterness and pain\u00e2\u0080\u0094how small twould grow\\nIf but His children knew the guiding hand\\nFor all alike, and heard the voice ^Lo! I\\nAm with you always, even to the End.\\nTHE CROWN-BIRD.\\nBack in the days of fable\\nWhen this old earth was young,\\nWhen nature throbbed with music\\nAnd every thought was sung;\\nWhen Clotho s shining distaff\\nSpun out the threads of life,\\nAnd Jove from high Olympus\\nLooked down on peace or strife\\nThere flew, o er beauteous Hellas,\\nSo saith the fable old\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nA wondrous bird, broad-breasted\\nWith pinions strong and bold.\\nAnd whom those pinions shadowed,\\nFrom ether circling down,\\nHigh-born were he or lowly.\\nHis head should wear a crown.\\nMayhap some humble shepherd\\nIn Thracian meadows wide\\nHis loitering flock drives homeward\\nAs nears the eventide;", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "50 MISCELLANEOUS\\nIf o er his eyes up-gazing\\nThe bh d s dark shadow falls,\\nHe sees his peaceful pastures\\nChange into royal halls.\\nOr if some youthful Mother\\nHer sleeping babe should place\\nWhere wandering breezes whisper\\nAnd blossoms touch his face,\\nAnd o er his head unheeding\\nShould soar the shadowing wings,\\nThen for the tiny sleeper\\nAwaited robes of kings.\\nEarth s sordid aims have silenced\\nThe music of her youth\\nEyes have grown blind to beauty,\\nEars have grown dull to truth;\\nPerchance, could we but see it,\\nStill does the crown-bird soar,\\nAnd shadow brows crown-fated\\nAs said the Greeks of yore.\\nTHE OLD GARRET ROOM.\\nOf the perfumes of Araby poets may sing.\\nOf tropic isles spicy and warm,\\nBut the breath of the Orient can not compare\\nWith the old Garret Room on the farm.\\nWhere the rafters sloped down to the swallow-swept eaves,\\nAnd the wasp masons never knew harm,\\nAnd the architect-spiders built palaces vast,\\nIn the old garret room on the farm.\\nWhere the bunches of catnip were hung by a string,\\nWith spearmint and peppermint near.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 51\\nAnd the sage swung aloft in a spicy repose\\nTill the thanksgiving turkey appear.\\nThe burdock and yellow dock bided their time,\\nBy their side did the dandelion swing;\\nFor they knew that a sure resurrection would come\\nWhen the bitters were made in the Spring.\\nThe tansy and carraway mingled their scents\\nWith the hops and the withered sweet-flag,\\nAnd the red-clover blooms a drear prison had found\\nIn a dusty and dark paper bag.\\nThere a coverless coffee-pot stood on a ledge.\\nAnd, deep in its gloomy recesses,\\nWere packets of seeds of a goodly old age\\nSweet Williams and string-beans and lettuce.\\nAye, poets may sing of the vales of the East,\\nOf rose-gardens spicy and sweet,\\nBut never a vale or a garden, I know.\\nWith the old garret room can compete.\\nThe old garret room with its dust and its gloom,\\nIts atmosphere heavy and warm,\\nIts age-blackened rafters hung thickly with herbs\\nThe old garret room on the farm.\\nIRELAND.\\nOh Ireland, thou child of Utopian birth.\\nHow camest thou here in this wearisome earth\\nSo far out of step in humanity s strife.\\nSo illy equipped for the struggle of life.\\nWhat pleasure hast tliou in this world s bitter wine,\\nWhose faults are all virtues, whose virtues divine?\\nThe one spot art thou in this dreary world wide,\\nWhere the serpent, the symbol of sin, can not hide.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "52 MISCELLAXEOUS\\nThe muses, of whom but faint glimpses we catch,\\nTake up their abode beneath thy humble thatch.\\nAnd song springs as free from the lips and the hearts.\\nAs thy shamrock in Spring from the green hillside starts.,\\nMirth and gladness are tliine though the heart break the\\nwhile,\\nFor smiles gleam through tears in the Emerald Isle\\nBut, Erin, thy leaven the world s bread doth need.\\nAnd bereft of thy lightness twere heavy indeed.\\nOur bravest in battle as sons thou canst claim\\nThey fill the front ranks in the long roll of Fame\\nTheir speech falleth golden from Eloquence height\\nAs the star-flames of Venus pierce down through the night.\\nIs there need of their bounty, their all they bestow.\\nThough the morrow yield harvest of hunger and woe\\nNor can billows of pain or of poverty part\\nThe smile from the lip, or the song from the heart.\\nOVEH ON THE CROSS-ROAD.\\nOver on the cross-road,\\nYears and years ago,\\nLay a land enchanted.\\nNone of us might know;\\nWhen the old red scliool-house\\nStood upon the hill.\\nJust beyond the graveyard,\\nEver cool and still.\\nOver on the cross-road\\nBlack-berries grew wild.\\nNodding through the rail fence,\\nWhen I was a child.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 53\\nIn the stony pastures\\nGrew the mullein white\\nBrowsed the sheep in day-time,\\nPiped the quail at night.\\nOver on the cross-road\\nStretching far away,\\nLost at last to vision\\nIn the woodland gray\\nSometimes came a peddler,\\nBending neath his load;\\nOr a dusty beggar,\\nLoitering up the road.\\nWhen the twilight settled,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nStars came out above,\\nSomewhere down the cross-road\\nGrieved the mourning dove.\\nThen the ghostly wild-fire\\nGleamed and died away,\\nAnd the bare-foot urchins\\nShivered at their play.\\nTime brings disenchantment,\\nBut we think of thee\\nO, thou country cross-road\\nWrapped in mystery\\nAs life s many cross-roads\\nThrough the years appear.\\nAll their glamor losing,\\nAs we draw more near.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "54 MISCELLANEO US\\nA DEAD HOPE.\\nThrough the sunshine and shadow adown the still street,\\nO er arched by the elm boughs which sigh as they meet\\nA flutter of crape from a cottage door tells\\nThat within those home-walls grief unspeakable dwells.\\nWe know that a loved one lies robed for the grave,\\nAnd heart touches heart as the sad emblems wave\\nFor bereavement makes brotherhood all the world o er,\\nAnd humanity bows to the crape on the door.\\nBut ah, when a pure hope is born in the heart,\\nGrowing daily to be of its life-force a part.\\nLending strength to each prayer, to each smile giving grace,\\nMaking sweeter the voice and more gentle the face,\\nAnd then swiftly by Fate s cruel never is crushed,\\nThough life s sunshine seems faded, its melody hushed.\\nIts gladness and sweetness forever seem o er,\\nAh, sad heart, the world sees no crape on thy door.\\nBut think you the home whence the dear one has fled\\nCan lose the effulgence the spirit has shed?\\nThough time to eternity pass, nevermore\\nCan the world be again as it has been before.\\nSo no heart can e er measure the difference wrought\\nFor life and for death by each dream, hope or thought.\\nThough thy hope never blossom or fair dream endure,\\nYet know, O sad heart, that fruition is sure.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 55\\n*THE TALISMAN.\\nWho has not read since childhood s earliest time,\\nIn witching prose or still more witching rhyme,\\nThe tales that swarm, like bees o er summer flowers,\\nAround the old Alhambra s courts and towers?\\nEach carven fountain, silent now so long.\\nStill has its legend of enchantment strong,\\nAnd each old gateway, dungeon, vaulted hall.\\nEach nook and corner where the moon-beams fall\\nIs haunted by some story weird and old\\nOf the long- vanished Moorish masters told.\\nEnchantment holds in strange and mighty reign\\nThe sun-kissed hills and vineyards of old Spain,\\nAnd all the sleepy land from east to west\\nBeneath some magic spell is said to rest.\\nOf these wild tales one haunts my mind to-night.\\nAs your familiar faces greet my sight,\\nAnd, if you will, I would once more recall\\nThe ancient legend, known, I think, to all.\\n^Tis this When day s last lingering gleam is gone.\\nAnd settles down the eve of good St. John,\\nThen he who holds the magic charm may hear\\nA low deep murmur rising far and near,\\nAnd clank of armor and the steed s glad neigh.\\nAll sounding vague and dim and far away\\nAnd then, from mountain cavern, quiet dell.\\nAnd ruined castle, neath enchantment s spell,\\nA spectral steed and rider greet the gaze\\nWith all the trappings of the olden days.\\nFrom all the land they haste, and e er there falls\\nThe hour of midnight on Granada s walls\\nBoabdil s glittering army waits again\\nAs oft of old upon Granada s plain,\\nJ Read before Alumni Association of Elyria High School.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "56 MISCELLAXEO US\\nFor one short hour to fill th Alhambra s courts\\nWith all the ancient greetings, feasts and sports.\\nFor ere the morning s faintest gleams appear\\nEach one must vanish for another year.\\nAh, friends, e en thus we meet again to-night.\\nAnd thus w^ill vanish ere the morrow s light,\\nBound by a spell almost as strong and deep\\nAs that neath which the Moslem warriors sleep.\\nThe spell of daily duty, life s demands\\nAnd toil s enchantment over brain and hands,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nWe still can break, one night of all the year,\\nThe spell that binds us, and commingle here.\\nBut come we all? Ah, friends, we grieve to-night\\nFor the dear faces vanished from our sight,\\nFor broken ranks and voices hushed to men.\\nBound by a mightier power than aught we ken.\\nAh, would some talisman could break the spell\\nThat holds so fast the ones we love so well,\\nAnd grant, while moments of a night were told.\\nThat we might meet and greet them as of old.\\nBut only memory s talismanic hand\\nHath power to bring them from the silent land\\nAnd memory, though it bless indeed our years,\\nWalks never far from the dim halls of tears.\\nLet pass the legend, for another thought,\\nA weightier one, the same wierd tales have brought.\\nNot only through the pleasant vales of Spain\\nDoth strong enchantment hold a mighty reign.\\nThe whole wide world for ages Jay in sleep\\nBeneath a spell more potent and more deep.\\nAnd to this land and age is given to break\\nThe magic charm and bid the nations wake.\\nThe spell? Ah, friends, dark ignorance alone,\\nThe mother of all wrongs the world hath known,\\nAll superstition, cruelty and crime\\nWhich men have suffered since the birth of time.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 57\\nI challenge you to trace one hideous thing\\nWhich from that source of evil did not spring,\\nAnd ours the talisman to cast away\\nThe dark enchantment and admit the day.\\nNor ours alone, how many a kindred band\\nThe talisman holds out with eager hand!\\nNor these alone\u00e2\u0080\u0094 to every school-house known\\nAcross the land as if in broadcast sown.\\nAnd slowly, slowly, for the world is wide,\\nThe yielding fetters wi 1 be cast aside\\nAnd purity and truth and right shall reign\\nWhen knowledge breaks each binding bar and chain.\\nFor where truth reigns, reigns God, and by His will\\nThe leaven of the truth the world shall fill.\\nAh, wondrous age, and still more wondrous land,\\nW^here lowest, highest, side by s de may stand\\nWhere marble court and legislative hall\\nAn equal welcome give to each and all\\nWhere birth and worth an honest balance turn,\\nAnd gold is his who hath the power to earn\\nWhere naught may keep the lowliest from a throne.\\nAnd kings alone by kingly deeds are known.\\nAye, humble schoolroom, wheresoeVr thou art.\\nBy country roadside or the city s heart,\\nThine is the power, the talisman is thine\\nThe darkness yields before thy magic sign\\nThe sunrise brightens o er the land and sea.\\nAnd ignorance lays down its arms to thee.\\nBut, O my friend, though fair tlie dawn appear,\\nThink not, I pray, that more than dawn is here.\\nThe noon-time still is far, aye far away,\\nThe glorious fullness of the light of day:\\nNor will it come till, all night s banner s furled,\\nHe comes, indeed, who lighteth all the world.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "58 MISCELLAIfEOUS\\nTHE BUTTERNUT BOUGH.\\nThe butternut bough swayed over the stream;\\nThe stream was shallow and clear,\\nDarted the minnows within without\\nThe dragon-fly s glittering spear.\\nThe butternut bough, so brown and strong,\\nSo graceful, willowy, lithe, and long.\\nDrooped down so low, by the water s flow,\\nWe could leap and clasp it, and to and fro.\\nRoyally swinging, the bough would go.\\nThe butternut bough, as if nature knew\\nWhat the farm-house children would like to do-\\nNature and childhood are comrades true\\nFashioned a seat as smooth and neat\\nAs ever saddle for lady meet;\\nCunningly curving, safe and wide.\\nWaiting the children to mount and ride;\\nWith leafy branches for bridle and rein.\\nOver mountain, valley, and plain\\nGalloped the charger with might and main.\\nSometimes the bough was a ship, you know.\\nWas there not water flowing below?\\nRigging and mast and spar up there.\\nOver our heads, in the summer air;\\nAnd, best uf all, if a storm should wake.\\nAn anchor that never was known to break.\\nOver the sea afar sailed we.\\nShips of the king, or pirates free.\\nStrange and wonderful things to see.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 69\\nThe butternut bough swayed over the stream,\\nAh me, it was long ago,\\nBut whether a royal carriage of state,\\nOr a fiery steed or a vessel great,\\nWherever we choose to go,\\nOver the hill where mother and home.\\nAs I wish tliey w^ere ever for those who roam,\\nOver mountain or vale or ocean-foam,\\nAs of old on the butternut bough.\\nCHILDHOOD S BIRTHRIGHT.\\nIf our land could give to its children.\\nIn the first glad years of life,\\nA home in the beautiful country.\\nAfar from the city s strife,\\nAway from the noise and turmoil.\\nThe never-ceasing tread.\\nThe heartless struggle for riches,\\nThe hopeless struggle for bread,\\nHow would the ranks be strengthened\\nOf the Nation s brave and strong;\\nHow would its records lessen\\nOf poverty, crime and wrong\\nFor what can the city offer\\nIn place of forest and field?\\nWhat can its noisy pavements\\nOr crowded factories yield?\\nFor happiness cannot linger\\nWhere grinding poverty lives.\\nAnd the grandest home of the wealthy\\nBut gilded bitterness gives.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "60 MIS .ELLANEO US\\nGod surely meant for the children\\nThe strength of the mighty hills.\\nThe richness of treasure unfailing\\nWhich nature s store-house fills.\\nO care-free days of my childhood;\\nWhile memory holds its sway,\\nMy heart will yield thee its homage\\nWherever my footsteps stray.\\nPictures of early mornings\\nThrong back from the long-ago,\\nWhen the eastern sl^y was flaming\\nAnd the dew-wet grass aglow.\\nWhen up from the farthest corner\\nOf the old south pasture w^ide\\nWe merrily roused the cattle\\nEach with a steaming side.\\nThen mounting the slow farm horses\\nFrom the old fence top-most rail,\\nWe drove the cows to the barnyard,\\nWhere waited each wide-mouthed pail.\\nMemories ot old, old orchards,\\nLow-branching and gnarled and dim,\\nOf mossy northern hillsides,\\nOf brooks where the minnows swim,\\nOf Autumn with untold treasures-\\nFrost grapes luscious and sweet,\\nMushrooms, and nuts half hidden\\nIn the gorgeous leaves at your feet.\\nThen let not our fair country\\nBe plowed by the alien s hand.\\nBe proud of your farms and homesteads,\\nBe proud of your fruitful land.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 61\\nKnow that the cities lure you\\nTo false and empty joys,\\nAnd thank the Lord if the country\\nCan shelter your ghis and boys.\\nGOLD.\\nWhen far from the harbor of sun-kissed Spain\\nThe mariners sailed o er the unknown main,\\nTheir quest was a land of wealth untold\\nAnd their dreams were all of the shining gold.\\nRich indeed was the new-found land,\\nIts forests boundless, its rivers grand,\\nFree and wonderful, wide and wild.\\nBeauty lavish and undefiled.\\nThey came, and toiled, and suffered, and died.\\nSeeking and ever unsatisfied.\\nReward abundant their labor brought.\\nBut never the one reward they sought.\\nCities arose as the time went by,\\nChurch-spires pointed the way to the sky;\\nCornfields rustled and hearth-fires gleamed.\\nBut they found not the gold of which they dreamed.\\nAnd ever as up from the ocean wide,\\nFarther and farther creeps the tide.\\nSo over the broad land day by day,\\nA nation was making its onward way.\\nMiglity rivers were curbed and spanned.\\nPrairies yielded their harvests grand,\\nDreary deserts their secrets told.\\nHills were stripped of their forests old.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "62 MIS UJELL A NE US\\nAnd at length, when the years had come and fled\\nTill the tale of the whole wide land was read,\\nWhere the sun dips into the ocean vast,\\nThey found the wonderful gold at last.\\nThere are torrents to cross on the path of life\\nThere are mountains and deserts witli danger rife,\\nHast thou placed, O Fatlier, to draw us o er,\\nThe gold of life on the farther shore?\\nTHE SONG OF YOUTH.\\nYouth s meadows are green beneath our feet,\\nBound us the summer air floats sweet.\\nGlimpses of hills afar to the right\\nThrough the bending tree-tops reach our sight:\\nAnd the butterflies lazily floating by\\nAre not more free than you and I.\\nWhat do we care though the sages say\\nThat summer-time cannot last alway?\\nAre we not standing amid youth s flowers,\\nWith the heritage of the ages ours?\\nMen have been sowing tlirough years gone by;\\nWe are tlie reapers you and I.\\nPoets and artists for fame have sought;\\nWe are the future for which they wrought;\\nRich is the fruitage that waits our hand;\\nLife and love at our bidding stand\\nThe treasures of earth in our pathway lie,\\nWe will enjoy them you and I.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 63\\nPate is a myth and youth is strong;\\nLife is worth living, if short or long;\\nSceptre and crown we may take at will\\nThrones are waiting for us to fill.\\nX/et us arise ere our days pass by,\\nHeirs of Humanity you and I.\\nOHIO ALL THE YEAR.\\nI ve thought the matter over\\nAn nigh as I kin see,\\nI don t know of another place\\nI d any ruther be.\\nThe story- writers slight us.\\nThe poets pass us by,\\nBut right here in Ohio\\nI d choose to live an die.\\nIt s just as old as Egypt,\\nAn a hundred times as good;\\nLake Erie s bin here longer\\nThan the Pyramids hev stood.\\nAn if it s brains thet s wanted,\\nI guess twould Stan a show,\\nAlongside any other place\\nNo matter whar you go.\\nOhio in the spring time.\\nWhen the apple orchards blow,\\nAn the cherry trees resemble\\nA good-sized drift o snow.\\nOhio in the summer,\\nWith a thousand wheat-fields white,\\nWhen the reapers buzz by daytime.\\nAn the Katydids by night", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "64 MISCELLANEO US\\nOhio in the autumn,\\nWith the robin s good-bye song\\nThanksgivin time an Christmas\\nA comin right along;\\nOhio in the winter,\\nWith the cross-roads drifted high-\\nJust listen to the music\\nOf the sleigli-bells jinglin by.\\nWith the apples an the cider,\\nIn the even in by the blaze,\\nWhen a neighbor calls to talk about\\nThe Senate s cur us ways\\nYes, lookin at it all aroun\\nI m willin fer to say\\nI ll take, fer solid comfort,\\nOhio any day.\\nTHE BROOK WHERE WE USED TO FISH.\\nThough many the miles that lie between\\nThis page and that well-remembered scene.\\nAnd many the years that intervene,\\nYet still I can never forget, I ween,\\nThe brook where we used to firh.\\nThe trees arched over it, green and high,\\nVeiling the blue of the summer sky.\\nAnd dropping flickering shades to lie\\nOver the minnows swift and shy\\nIn the brook where we used to fish.\\nThe banks were tunneled with muskrat holes\\nMysterious places to probe with poles\\nThe stones were green with the cool moss folds,,\\nAnd lichens grew on the great tree-boles\\nBy the brook where we used to fish.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 65\\nBlack-snakes coiled on the sunk logs near,\\nSnapping- turtles and crabs were here;\\nBut never a thought had we of fear\\nTheir citizenship was proved and clear\\nBy the brook where we used to fish.\\nWe sat on the grassy bank in a row,\\nBarefoot urchins with heads of tow,\\nWatching the corks float to and fro.\\nAnd the sunfish glistening down below\\nIn the brook where we used to fish.\\nSometimes we followed its winding way\\nPast the butternut trees and the willows gray.\\nClear to the little white bridge that lay\\nAt the edge of the strange land stretching away\\nFrom the brook where we used to fish.\\nMany a lesson, good or ill.\\nMany a task for heart and will\\nStrive the hastening years to fill.\\nBut a scene that memory holdeth still\\nIs the brook where we used to fish.\\nOUT OF PRISON.\\nSolomon, cynic, seer and sage.\\nWisest of mortals in any age.\\nWrote when the years had dimmed his eyes:\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nBetter a child who is poor and wise;\\nSeeking guidance from each and all,\\nThan he who is born in a palace hall.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "66 3fI8CELLANE0US\\nFor the child from prison cometh to reign,\\nSlowly but surely his throne to gain\\nBorn to the purple, born to hear\\n^Vive le Roi! with conscious ear,\\nBorn the scepter of power to sway\\nEach in his own appointed way.\\nBorn to the purple\u00e2\u0080\u0094 yes, but stay\\nThe royal garment is far away\\nFar away, while before his eyes\\nThe prison walls of poverty rise.\\nAh, many the prince those walls restrain,\\nBut out of prison he cometh to reign.\\nHard is the struggle those walls to scale,\\nBut the scepter waiteth, he must not fail.\\nWeary the climbing, and few can see\\nIn the humble climber the king to be.\\nSo many the toilers, the crown so far,\\nWhat careth the world who its princes are?\\nBetter a child who is poor and wise\\nThan the haughtiest form in kingly guise\\nFor the monarch no counsel will heed or hear;\\nThe child is waiting with list ning ear.\\nBorn to the purple, indeed, but none\\nThe crown may wear till the crown is worn\\nFew the kings in this land of ours\\nBut have looked through poverty s prison bars.\\nToil-marked the hands which the scepter bear,\\nWeary the brows which the crowns do wear.\\nThe poor and wise have the world to gain\\nAnd out of prison he cometh to reign.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 67\\nIN THE LIBRARY.\\nOver the green-robed hills away\\nTo the ebb tide sand fields stretching gray,\\nOver the opal tinted spray\\nHide and seek mongst the rocks at play,\\nOver the ocean prairies,\\nAway, away and still away,\\nTime and distance \u00e2\u0080\u0094naught are they;\\nBring tomorrow what it may.\\nAll the eartli is mine today.\\nMine the wings of fairies.\\nKings and queens in rich array\\nAt my bidding, go or stay.\\nCastle- towers and gardens gay,\\nForests where shy deer stray;\\nAll the Orient s treasures,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nGilded mosques where Moslems pray.\\nCities by the Persian Bay,\\nWhere the vales enchanted lay\\nWho hath power to say me nay?\\nMine the wide world s pleasure.\\nWHEN SHADOWS FALL.\\nWhen shadows fall and birds chirp low.\\nWhen homeward weary toilers go.\\nWhen beetles wheel and daisies close.\\nWhen play-worn children seek repose,\\nThen let sweet thoughts arise in all,\\nWhen shadows fall, when shadows fall.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "68 MISCHLLANEOUS\\nWhen shadows fall, and clear and far,\\nShines in the sky the evening star,\\nThen be all bitterness forgot,\\nAll blinding hatred flourish not,\\nPeace on the heart s high throne install\\nWhen shadows fall, when shadows fall.\\nWhen shadows fall and work doth cease,\\nBid worldly cares thy soul release\\nLet charity and love arise\\nAs darkness softly veils the skies\\nThen sweet shall be life s vesper call,\\nWhen shadows fall, when shadows fall.\\n*^TILL DEATH US JOIN.\\nA grave-yard lies in the city s heart,\\nHigh-walled and aged and gray,\\nA place from the city s noise apart,\\nClosed book of a by-gone day.\\nThick lies the graves with their sunken stones,\\nAnd the hand of Time\u00e2\u0080\u0094 ah me\\nHas almost hidden the legends quaint\\nWith its mossy tracery.\\nOne grave is close by a dying elm,\\nAnd the traveler there may see\\nTo Samuel, aged twenty-four,\\nDied eighteen thirty- three.\\nAnd away, ah! far away to-night\\nWhere the fire-light fades and glows\\nA woman sit^: On her thin hair white\\nMore than eighty winters snows.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "MISCELLAJSTEOUS 69\\nAnd ever the name in her busy thoughts,\\nThe name that she whispers low,\\nIs Samuel, love of her girlhood days.\\nThe husband of long ago.\\nVanished the present, and hers once more\\nThe past with its hopes and fears.\\nThe brave boy husband again is hers.\\nThough dust for these sixty years.\\nAnother has called her wife since then:\\nThe heads of her sons are gray;\\nBut not of them is her thought or speech\\nAs fadeth her life s long day.\\nHer name again is the name he gave;\\nHis ring on her worn hand gleams.\\nOf him are ever the tales she tells,\\nOf him are her happy dreams.\\nOn, Samuel, aged twenty-four.\\nBoy-husband, lover and friend,\\nNo grave over thee has victory,\\nLove knoweth no bound or end.\\nTo her thy hair is as brown to-night\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nAs tender thy voice and low\\nAs when you loved her, your fair girl-bride,\\nFull seventy years ago", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "70 MISCELLANEOUS\\nASLEEP.\\nLow mid the downy pillows\\nBrown cniis and rings of gold\\nThe baby s dimpled fingers\\nThe Mother s gently fold.\\nSoft cheek Against soft cheek resting\\nWhile evening shadows creep,\\nWhite lids the brown eyes veiling,\\nMother and babe, asleep.\\nHe bent to watch them, smiling.\\nTears gleaming through the smile.\\nAnd words of prayer, unbidden,\\nRose silently the while.\\nStill mid the snowy blossoms\\nBrown curls and rings of gold\\nThe baby s waxen fingers\\nAgain the Mother s fold.\\nNo bloom the cold cheeks tinting\\nNo breathings soft and deep\\nBrown eyes no more to open\\nMother and babe,\u00e2\u0080\u0094 asleep.\\nHe stood beside them silent.\\nNo moan, no tear, no prayer,\\nJoy drains the heart s deep fountains,\\nGrief finds but dark despair.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 71\\nTHE PASSING OF DAWN.\\nAcross the prairie breaks the dim, sweet morn;\\nWith low, glad rustle wakes the serried corn;\\nThe tiny, timid things housed underground\\nDawn s subtile perfume brings to list the sound,\\nAnd all the air with rapture throbs and swells\\nThe soul-heard music of Dawn s tliousand bells.\\nThe floating rose-leaves in the Eastern sky\\nAre born in sheaves by opal waves on high,\\nWhile in the West the ashes of the night\\nBeyond our quest are swept by fingers white.\\nDawn s feet afar the mountain-tops have trod;\\nOh hearts of men, awake,\u00e2\u0080\u0094 to work and God.\\nSONG.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 DO THEY WHISPER.\\nBlossoms and buds of the springtime.\\nRinging your dainty-sweet bells,\\nWhat are the fairy-land stories\\nYour dim-chiming melody tells?\\nWhat do the soft breezes wliisper?\\nWhat do the butterflies say\\nWhat do the dew-jewels murmur\\nAs into the shadows you sway?\\nDo they whisper, We love you, we love you,^^\\nThrough all of the long happy day?", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "72 MISCELLANEOUS\\nAMBITION.\\nHe who Pegasus would conquer, long and\\nlonely must he ride\\nToil and weariness await him who\\nwould climb Parnassus side.\\nIn the valley is contentment, pleasant\\nrest and loving friend\\nOn the heights are cold and hunger,\\npain and longing without end.\\nWhat if glory bathe the summit, tis but\\nsunliglit on the snow,\\nDreary wind that ceases never, warmth\\nand verdure lie below.\\nRETROSPECTION.\\nAcross the lapse of years which seem\\nLike the frail fabric of a dream.\\nThe full, fair yesterdays of youth\\nGaze at me with their eyes of truth,\\nAnd say, with voice that clearer grows\\nAs wax and wane life s suns and snows:\\nOh toiler, dreamer, weary-eyed.\\nDrop your thorn-woven robes of pride.\\nSo cold, so harsh, so dearly bought;\\nYour crowns with glistening tears inwrought\\nWe are the real; all that you grasp\\nDoth fade and vanish from your clasp.\\nEarth s gifts are all alike in this\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nPossession brings not happiness\\nPleasure and bitterness are one\\nAmbition s task is never done.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "3fI8CELLANE0U8 73\\nAnd, like the rainbow s pot of gold,\\nSuccess ye seek but never hold.\\nWe are the real; your childhood years,\\nUndimmed by time, unstained by tears;\\nWhat know we of the pride of birth?\\nWhat know we of the rank of earth?\\nDeceit or vanity or pain.\\nThe fight for bread, the lust of gain?\\nCome back to us the keys we hold\\nWhich open gates to streets of gold.\\nThough twice a thousand years have fled\\nEe-echo still the words He said\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nTo breathe the air of Heaven mild\\nYou must be as a little child.\\nBeckoning youth I would the way\\nWere shorter and the sky less gray.\\n1 would the path, so hard to climb.\\nCould be retraced to thy dear time\\nI would the scars on heart and brain\\nSome kind hand could erase again.\\nBrush off the dust of toil and sin,\\nAnd let the light of childhood in.\\nAnd Thou, Our Father, high above\\nOur blindest wanderings, in Thy love\\nO lead us, though we cannot see,\\nTo childhood^s purity, and Thee.\\nWITH MEMORY S EYES,\\nAh, sing not of Italian skies.\\nOf English moors and meadows.\\nOf torrents dark whose gleam and spark\\nLeap down mid Alpine shadows;", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "74 MISCELLANEOUS\\nFor, wander wheresoe er you will,\\nThe heart of each turns gladly still\\nTo unsung grove and unsought rill\\nThat knew your childhood s hours.\\nNo brighter skies have ever shone\\nThan those your childhood days have known.\\nAnd never bloomed in any zone\\nAught fairer buds and flowers.\\nThen scorn not your familiar fields,\\nDream not of castles olden,\\nFor comes the day when you shall say\\nThe scenes of youth are golden.\\nDAWN.\\nDun smoke upcurling to a roseate sky\\nFrom gray-walled cots with eastern windows flaming,\\nA frost touched land A rose-gray symphony\\nThe new-born day with tender touch proclaiming.\\nSINCE THOU ART AWAY.\\nSince thou art away\\nAll our joys go astray.\\nAnd fadeth each blossom and vine.\\nThe trees sigh in grief\\nAnd low droppeth each leaf\\nAnd the stars have forgotten to shine.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "MISCJELLAJSrUOUS 75\\nSince thou art away\\nThe soft Moon will not stay,\\nAnd fled is her radiance divine.\\nThe sea weepeth soft,\\nAnd the birds grieve aloft.\\nAnd the stars have forgotten to shine.\\nSince thou art away\\nWhen the sweet breezes play\\nThe name that they whisper is thine\\nAnd the night and the day\\nSad and slow pass away\\nAnd the stars have forgotten to shine.\\nA PORTENT.\\nO er Southern seas that Autumn night\\nUncounted stars shed shimmering light\\nAnd blue depths mirrored back the sight\\nA thousand years the same.\\nFor never sea or sky had known\\nThe echoes of a human tone\\nOr stars on human form had shone\\nWith radiant tropic flame.\\nBut Fate upon the page of Time\\nThat night had marked with touch sublime\\nTo shape each future age and clime\\nAnd perish nevermore.\\nFor ships with tapering spar and mast\\nBlack shadows on the waters cast\\nAnd broke the ripples as they passed\\nTo seek an unknown shore.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "re MISCELLANEOUS\\nThroup:h weary months the sun s last ray\\nHad tinged their prows at close of day\\nAnd still their course unchanging lay\\nWestward turned every eye.\\nAnd now on one high deck there stands\\nA man whose tireless vision scans\\nFor fleeting outlines of fair lands\\nThe circle of the sky.\\nColumbus Worthy of the name\\nChrist-bearer, Christopher, he came\\nSeeking not merely wealth or fame\\nBut lead by purpose high\\nAnd now as draws the moment near\\nTo prove his wondrous vision clear\\nWhat Fate-fraught signal shall appear\\nTo greet the Leader s eye?\\nListen, Oh Country of the Free,\\nListen, Oh lands beyond the sea,\\nListen, Oh Nations yet to be\\nWhat met the Master s sight?\\nA prophesy it was indeed,\\nA message for the world to read,\\nA lesson for all Time to heed,\\nThe shining of a light.\\nAnd thou, hast thou fulfilled, Oh Land,\\nThy destiny God-willed and grand,\\nA light within the world to stand?\\nThou hast, fair land of mine.\\nA light to freedom for all men,\\nFor heart and hand, for voice and pen;\\nA light to show to mortal ken\\nMan s liberty divine.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 77\\nA light to home and womanhood,\\nTo greatest growth and highest good.\\nEquality and brotherhood\\nFor each and all the same.\\nOh Land, of all the ages heir.\\nSend out thy radiance broad and fair\\nThat all within the earth may share\\nThy truth-revealing flame.\\nRefrain.\\nSWALLOWS.\\nTo-day the swallows flying\\nThrough Summer air overhead\\nBring visions to my fancy\\nFrom years forever fled.\\nI see a low-browed homestead,\\nNeath drooping Maple leaves.\\nAnd near it stands an old red barn\\nWith swallows round the eaves.\\nOh swallows, swallows, swallows.\\nYe bear my heart away\\nTo other climes and other scenes.\\nNow flown for many a day.\\nThe shadows all are lengthening\\nFrom out the flaming West\\nAnd circling, circling downward\\nThe swallows seek their nest\\nA Mother s voice is calling,\\nThe cattle homeward go.\\nAnd hidden neath the old barn eaves\\nThe swallows twitter low.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "78 MISCELLANEOUS\\nRefrain,\\nOh swallows, swallows, swallows,\\nYe bear my heart away\\nTo other climes and other scenes.\\nNow flown for many a day.\\nNELLIE.\\nNellie stands at the molding-board\\nTouched by the warm sunlight\\nHer sleeves to her dainty elbows rolled\\nHer arms all dimpled and white.\\nShe hums a tune as she works away,\\n^Douglas tender and true\\nOh Nellie, my thoughts with the flour you sift,\\nAnd every thought is of you.\\nNellie stands at the moulding-board,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nDreamy her downcast face\\nHer pink-tipped fingers in and out\\nGlance with a witching grace\\nNod and quiver the tiny curls\\nCrowning her girlish head,\\nOh Nellie, Nellie, you knead my heart\\nIn with your loaves of bread.\\nNellie, there in your cotton gown\\nSimple and fresh and neat,\\nFlour on your fingers fit for gems\\nEarnest your eyes and sweet.\\nShaping your snowy loaves with care,\\nNe er was a fairer sight:\\nMy heart will be light as the bread you knead\\nIf you ll tell me yes to-night.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 79\\nA VISION.\\nA dream of Death and a dream of Bliss\\nA dream of the Life that circles this,\\nA dream of the endless day.\\nA dream of barriers cast aside,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nOf gates to Infinity opened wide,\\nOf Mortality passed away.\\nWe had left the bondage of work and tears\\nOf darkness and sorrow, of failure and fears,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nAnd stood where Eternity s dawning clears\\nFrom the midnight of time at last.\\nWe knew as a day a thousand years\\nAnd a thousand days had passed.\\nIn the lap of the Universe lay impearled\\nThe atom we erst had called the World,\\nIts part in the Infinite done.\\nThe scroll of the Lord to our siglit unrolled\\nAnd we traced through its workings fold by fold\\nThe plan of the Mighty One.\\nWe saw, as we deem the angels do.\\nThe near and distant, the false and true.\\nWith God-born, limitless sight;\\nAnd the great life-principle shut in our soul\\nFelt the fetters away from its memory roll\\nAnd it wakened again to light.\\nWe knew the cycles ere Time had birth,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nEre the voice of the Lord brought forth tlie Earth,\\nAs yesterdays after sleep.\\nAnd the ages of men before us rolled.\\nThe Nations of earth in graves long cold.\\nThrough centuries buried deep.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "80 MISCELLANEOUS\\nAnd wherever mortals lived and died,\\nWalking among them side by side,\\nBrothers in toil and pain,\\nWhere those whom the Lord had drawn apart\\nNearer the pulse of the mighty heart\\nFreer from earthly stain.\\nThey saw, the Finite piercing through,\\nThings fairer than their brothers knew.\\nHeights nearer to the sun;\\nAnd heard, above Earth s myriad cries.\\nFaint echoings from beyond the skies\\nAnd dreamed of victories won.\\nThey caught, from earth and sea and air,\\nGod s beauty, spreading everywhere.\\nAnd prisoned it in song;\\nAnd bound in columi.ed beatings deep\\nThe strains that through the ages sweep\\nWith pulsings solemn, strong.\\nThey felt the crown of kingship weigh\\nTheir weary brows whereon it lay\\nYet joyfully they sang.\\nEarths bitterness and pain and woe\\nFull deeply did their spirits know,\\nAnd in their music s changing flow\\nThe tones of sorrow rang.\\nThey let the ties of Heaven bind\\nTheir hearts to hearts of all mankind\\nIn mighty brotherhood.\\nAnd lived to point each fettered soul\\nOn toward the God-appointed goal\\nOf the Eternal Good.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "MISCELLANEOUS 81\\nThen to our minds in vision rose\\nThe laurel-circled brows of those\\nWhom we in life had known.\\nWe called them Poets. Manifold\\nIn latter days and days of old\\nThey sang in varied tone.\\nThe voice that told the wondrous fall\\nOf angel throngs from Heaven s wall,\\nWith solemn rhythm deep.\\nAnd his who trod with bended head,\\nBy Rome s supremest singer led\\nWhere Pluto s shadows sweep.\\nAnd that one whom the Master sent\\nA Poet and a Mother blent\\nWhose heart of womanhood was rent\\nBy toiling children s moan.\\nShe who could look for brother s sake,\\nBeyond her pain-spent life and make\\nA nation s grief her own.\\nAnd all who sang, in simpler lays.\\nTheir songs of life and love and praise,\\nOf labor and of rest.\\nWho gladdened weary heart and brain,\\nOr lightened life s abiding jjain.\\nWhile earth their footsteps pressed.\\nAnd we, e f n there, in rev rence bent\\nTo those rare souls which Heaven sent\\nTo bless the earth with song.\\nWho gave to man their best of life.\\nWho showed the victory after strife,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nThe crowning of the strong.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "82 3II8CELLAXE0US\\nTHE WHITE MAN S PRIVILEGE.\\nTake up the White Man s burden;\\nTwo lands the strains repeat,\\nThey echo through our musings,\\nAnd on our heart strings beat.\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2Take up the White Man s burden;\\nOur greatest poet sings;\\nAnd yet, amid the music,\\nA note of discord rings.\\nTake up the White Man s burden;\\nOh God, is this our thought?\\nCan this be all the lesson\\nOur liberty has taught?\\nNay, looking o er the oceans.\\nWe face the waiting world.\\nAnd give them back their answer.\\nLike Sinai s thunder s hurled.\\nWe take the White Man s privilege,\\nAs heirs come to their own\\nAs kings take up the sceptre.\\nAnd seek the waiting throne.\\nWe take the White Man s privilege\\nWith courage and with prayer.\\nPut childish things behind us,\\nAnd ask for strength to dare.\\nWe take the White Man s privilege.\\nThe legacy of work\\nThe Son of God bequeathed us.\\nWhich none who serve may shirk.\\nHe bore the self-same burden.\\nUp Calvary s fearful side\\nFor thankless ones He suffered\\nFor those who jeered, He died.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "MLSCELLAJ^EOUS 83\\nWe take the White Man s privilege,\\nThe un-taught ones to teach\\nThe wild and sullen peoples,\\nTo seek for and to reach.\\nWe give our best and noblest,\\nOur best is none too good\\nWe seek not thanks or payment,\\nBut only brotherhood.\\nWe take the White Man s privilege;\\nWith saints and martyr s share,\\nTo raise the ones who perish\\nTo give our toil and care.\\nTo turn the dark world slowly\\nBut surely toward the light;\\nThe sunbeams of God s message.\\nTo flash across its night.\\nWhat though they weigh and judge us\\nWhat though they spurn our care,\\nAnd smite the hand that lifts them.\\nAnd mock the pleading prayer?\\nThere rises to our vision,\\nA cross\u00e2\u0080\u0094 a rock hewn tomb.\\nAn Angel guarded doorway,\\nA voice that pierced the gloom.\\nWe take the White Man s privilege;\\nOur God who sits on high,\\nHas opened wide the pathway.\\nWe can but do or die.\\nNo more to stand safe-shielded.\\nWhile others lead the fray;\\nOur hour has struck. We answer\\nWe come, Oh Earth, to-day.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "84 MISCELLAXEO US\\nTHE HEIGHT AND THE VALLEY.\\nA child at play in the grass and clover\\nFinds a pebble the rain washed clear,\\nA feather droj^ped when the doves flew over\\nOr the blue of a robin-eg-g s glistening sphere.\\nAh, mother, bearing to thee her treasure,\\nSoft hair flying and eyes agleam.\\nShe cannot know in her childish pleasure\\nHow small to thee does the treasure seem.\\nShe lays it away with her dimpled fingers\\nSafe with the things she holds most dear,\\nAnd the little box where the treasure lingers.\\nAdds to its prizes year by year;\\nA curl of gold from her girl-friend s tresses;\\nThe girl whom the angels found so soon\\nPieces cut from her dainty dresses\\nWhen her life was bright as the days of June.\\nFlowers that he brought, her first boy-lover.\\nCareless of eye and fair of face\\nAnd flowers again, with the touch of another\\nLending their beauty deeper grace.\\nAh, naught on earth or the heaven above her\\nSeemed to the maid so fair, so dear.\\nAs the joyous face of her girlhood s lover,\\nAs the ringing voice so free and clear.\\nPass the years and a woman, kneeling\\nThick in her hair the threads of snow\\nGazes into a box revealing\\nFaded relics of long ago.", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "MISCELLAXEO US 85\\nSmiles she sad at the sometime treasures.\\nFlowers of the lover and child s delight,\\nHarvest of longings, hopes and pleasures\\nWorthless alike to the wider sight.\\nO Father, Father, who ehangest never.\\nIs it all so small that we long for here?\\nIs naught on earth worth the striving after\\nWhen the strife is past and the vision clear?\\nEarth s honors, gold and fame and learning\\nWhich our hands so often raise on high.\\nAre our prizes small to Thy discerning\\nAs the childish prize to the older ej^e?\\nTHE END-", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "NOV 161899\\nDeacJdIfied using the Bookkeeper process.\\nNeutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide\\nTreatment Date: Sept. 2009\\nPreservationTechnologies\\nA WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION\\n111 Thomson Park Drive\\nCranberry Township, PA 16066\\n(724)779-2111", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4571", "width": "3126", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4721", "width": "3403", "jp2-path": "songsoflakesothe00horn_0104.jp2"}}