Chapter 37.
The Young Men's Pledge.—Brigham Young's One Hundredeth Birthday—Mary's Birthday.—Some Things that I Remember.
THE YOUNG MEN'S PLEDGE.
Joseph Smith and John M. Horner.
Two boys were hoeing corn one day,
Beneath a July sun.
And as they worked, in friendly chat
Their youthful fancies run."I'll be a farmer," the younger said,
"And study nature's laws—
If there is growth of tree or plant
I'll know the primal cause."Thus John, the younger of the two,
With a bright, progressive mind,
Explained to Joseph what he'd do
When he became a man.I watched and listened with interest now,
To the elder boy's reply;
For his was a fine, intellectual brow,
And a keen, prophetic eye."I'll be a man of God," he said—
"A student of truths divine:
I'll soar from earth to realms above
Where endless treasures shine."I'll study the lives of noble men;
I'll search the Scriptures too,
And I will know, if mortal can,
If Hebrew books are true."I'll know if Moses talked with God,
Upon the Mount Sinai;
The paths the ancient prophets trod—
I'll tread before I die."And each one, happy with the thoughts
That stirred their youthful breasts,
Silently finished the task in hand,
Then sought their home and rest.As years rolled on, we watched those boys,
And history proves to you,
Throughout their lives they kept their vows,
With motives pure and true.The farmer became a wonderful man
In agricultural skill;
And boundless wealth came from the soil
In obedience to his will.His name and fame went round the world,
And kings bestowed their praise.
He is today a shining mark
Of God's mysterious ways."The other one, would that my pen
Could a truthful picture give,
Of the prayerful, trustful, God-like life
That noble boy did live.How every word of that first pledge
To the letter was fulfilled;
How his bright mind grasped light and truth,
Until the Seer was killed.How God the Father, and Christ the Son,
Talked face to face with him;
How Peter, James and John—anointed ones,
Were sent by EloheimTo lay their lands on Joseph's head,
The priesthood to restore;
How Moses and Elias came with keys
They held in days of yore.Moroni, the Nephite Prophet, came
In robes of spotless white,
Talked with the boy of hidden things,
From eve till morning light.We talk of teachers learned and wise,
Of pupils, apt and bright;
But never by man was mortal taught
As Joseph was that night!History of nations, long since dead,
Were revealed to him so plain
That he in language strong and clear,
Could make them live again.He learned the solar system's laws,
And measured Kolob's time—
That God, of matter formed the worlds
That now in splendor shine.That man, now mortal, is Jehovah's child—
A birthright, endless and grand,
The crown of glory, in heaven, is this:
To be an exalted man.These were the paths the young man trod—
That was the glorious aim,
To pierce the skies, commune with God,
Eternal life to gain.
BRIGHAM YOUNG'S ONE HUNDREDTH BIRTHDAY.
Our multitude of little ones,
Dear precious souls, so bright and gay—
So full of life and harmless fun,
In neat attire, together come
And shout aloud, "'Tis first of June,
And we have come to sing a tune
In memory of the natal day
Of Israel's chieftain, Brigham Young.""Teacher," they cry, with faces all aglow
With life and joy, "we wish to know
More of the life, the acts, the worth
Of that great man who came to earth
One hundred years ago.""Well, children, I have heard my father say
That Brigham came upon a 'blusterous day.'
The June sun rose so bright and clear,
But soon a change came o'er the atmosphere.
Dark clouds went scurrying through the sky—
And shrieking gusts and moaning sigh
Gave warning of a coming storm
That filled the people with alarm—
The elements ceased not their war
Until the day had gone afar
Toward the setting of the sun.
But e'er old Sol his race had run,
A wondrous change again had come;
And all was bright, serene and calm
When Brigham Young was born—
At night within that humble home,
Rest and peace to all had come.'Twas the foreshadow of that great man's life—
At baptism commenced the bitter strife;
The sneer and scoff of sectarian hate
Increased to town, to county, and to state.
Armed and legalized mobs were soon in line
Against the God-sent prophet of modern times;
And gifted men, once active in the cause,
Turned traitor to the kingdom and its laws;
But Brigham's knees ne'er trembled in that hour,
Defending Joseph with all his might and power.
First at Far West, the storm in fury raged,
And Zion's leaders in chains were caged;
For six long months they wore the galling chains;
In dismal dungeons their weary limbs had lain.
And Clark's militia mob despoiled the Saints,
Till e'en the strongest faith seemed faint;
Then Brigham showed the temper of his soul—
Leader born, and warrior bold.
He rallied the scattering sheep, led them to pastures new,
Till Joseph came, and founded fair Nauvoo.'Twas in those years of toil and strife, and sin,
That Joseph learned to trust in him,
And pointed the path the Saints should tread
When Joseph and Hyrum would be dead.
At last the storm in fury broke
At Carthage jail, with cruel stroke,
Joseph and Hyrum both were slain—
The Church had lost its head again.Then Brigham's lion heart was seen—
With master mind he spanned the stream,
And led the bleeding Saints to Utah's inland sea,
And planted them in liberty,
In valleys sheltered by lofty snow-capped domes,
Where God has smiled upon their homes.And then he brought the poor from every land
And made a strong united band;
Taught them how to till the soil,
Taught them peace—to cease turmoil;
Taught them to give a helping hand
To every soul throughout their land.
He taught our children to be kind
And pure, and truthful, and refined.
And God so blessed the work thus done,
That millions loved the name of Brigham Young.
MARY'S BIRTHDAY.
Mary Y. Roberts—dear May,
This is a warm, beautiful winter day,
And your mother says it's your birthday;
That forty years ago, precisely at dinner time,
Your earthly life began to shine,
Such a tiny, faint little glimmer—
A mere dot, a spark dropped from above.
From the mystic, boundless ocean of love,
The mother, and Giver of all creation;
We were waiting, looking, and praying for you;
We wanted you, yet we hardly knew
How to prepare properly for your reception.
But your mother did the best she could,
And with Aunt Marinda's help so clever,
And with your grandpa, kind and good,
They nursed the little feeble flame
To life; helped it gain courage to remain,
And it became a source of joy forever.What ups and downs have passed since then!
Who knew the future, where, how, and when
The lightning's flash from out the storm
Would crush to earth some loved one's form—
Or tear loved branches from the tree,
And shroud the home in misery?
For pain and death come to the earth
Unheralded. Not so with birth.
Death comes; we have no power to stay the blow.
It strikes; the dearest ones are first to go,
No matter how firm the heart-strings cling;
'Tis like a bird upon the wing—
Soon 'scapes the reach of our weak hands,
And takes its flight to other lands
While we, held by an unseen power,
Are crushed by the sorrows of the hour;
We droop, and like the bird we've caged,
Against our prison bars we wage
A restless warfare, seeking in vain,
Freedom from life that gives us pain.
But freedom's boon will never come,
Until we learn, "Thy will be done,"
And every quiver of the soul
By patient guard has learned control;
And prove another law divine,
That every act reaps of its kind,
And all who sow in purity and love,
Reap a rich harvest from above.You, dear child, born forty years ago,
Have drunk your cup of grief and woe.
This is the arch of the span of life;
It marks the zenith of earthly strife.
For forty years you've climbed and climbed—
It is enough. Hereon the path shall wind
'Mid shaded groves of field and flowers,
Bringing bright days, and pleasant hours;
No storm shall rise to cross your path again,
But what the cold shall turn to summer rain,
And every cloud, by children's love dispelled,
Will whisper peace, and, mother, all is well.These are the words a father's lips declare;
From this time on your life shall taste, and share
The peace and love, the joy and bliss
That crowns a life of righteousness.
SOME THINGS THAT I REMEMBER
I am seventy-seven years old today—
My step is light, but my hair is gray.
The ear and eye are not so bright,
Showing a failing in hearing and sight.
And I cannot run as once I could,
When legs and lungs were strong and good.
My breath goes short as I climb the hill,
Showing that strength is not equal to will;
For hope and will, blessed gifts of God,
Are strong in my heart like an iron rod;
Leading my feet in their earthly strife,
Pointing my soul to a higher life.What a flood of sorrow, what an ocean of joy
Has crossed my path, as man and boy!
O, could I tell the changes I've seen,
'Twould equal in romance Alladin's dream.
It would quicken our pulse with a warm desire
To review the deeds of our noble sires;
For progress and growth in the realms of thought,
Are often with pain and sorrow bought;
And the richest gifts that crown our lives,
Come as a reward for a heart's sacrifice.
I remember when seven summers had fled,
Of kneeling beside a sick mother's bed;
With her motherly hand on my curly head,
She told me that Joseph and Hyrum were dead.
How deeply we loved the patriarch and seer
Was shown by the thousands who wept at their bier;
The Saints at Nauvoo were crushed by the blow—
'Twas my first comprehension of national woe,
For Israel that day lost a heavenly treasure,
A shepherd who fed them with wisdom unmeasured.I remember full well the Prophet's sweet smile
As he patted my head, I a weak, sickly child,
And said to my father, "Fear not, Brother Young,
For a long life awaits this dear little son.
He will grow up to manhood, the priesthood he'll hold,
And carry the gospel to nations untold."
Those kind words of promise illumined my soul;
The light is still with me, although I am old.The next I remember was the ice-flowing tide
Of the great Mississippi, its flood a mile wide,
The shout of the boatmen, the splash of their oars,
As they pushed the huge scow from the river's east shore.
They were giants in stature, and fearless and bold,
They shrunk not in danger, nor shivered in cold
There was tall Thomas Grover, and brave Warren Snow,
And three other heroes whose names I don't know.
With skill and endurance they stemmed the wild tide,
And landed their freight on the Iowa side.
Say, what was the freight that faced ice, wind, and snow?
'Twas the Saints who were fleeing from homes in Nauvoo.I remember the camp fires that blazed high in the woods,
While one side was freezing, one scorched where we stood;
And the anguish of childbirth, when the mother's strength failed,
Was drowned by the fury of the tempest and hail.
'Twas a cruel, bitter struggle with cold and with rain:
The route of our journey was marked with our slain;
With zeal, faith, and courage, ne'er excelled by man,
The journey to Utah our fathers began.
I walked with the children, and helped drive the sheep,
Hatless and shoeless, with sore bleeding feet.The wonderful journey was ended at last—
Forgotten in pleasures, were the cold wintry blasts;
For the sunshine of Utah brought strength, peace, and health,
With a promise, if faithful, of the blessings of wealth;
The words of the Prophet in part were fulfilled;
Israel had fled to the mountains, an empire to build.Sixteen summers had passed, and I had grown tall—
Five feet, lacking two inches, as I leaned 'gainst the wall;
And I weighed ninety-six pounds, on Father Neff's scales
In the old grist mill, overlooking our vales.At the annual conference, in eighteen fifty-four,
I was called on a mission, new fields to explore,
With twenty companions, young men bright and clean,
With them Joseph F. Smith, a boy of fifteen,
Manly, studious and faithful, keys to a life and career
That has crowned him as President, Prophet and Seer.
One night, sleeping with him on the isle of Maui(ee),
At President Hammond's, 'neath a banana tree,
I was wakened from slumber by Joseph's sharp cry—
A centipede stung him, in the core of the eye.
The venomous reptile struck the tenderest part;
The poison soon spread from the brain to the heart.
How fearfully he suffered the rest of the night!
It was feared, through our ignorance, he might lose his sight.
Then the power of the priesthood came to our aid,
By anointing and prayer the pain was allayed.My mission is ended, four years have slipped by—
Without purse or scrip, repentance I've cried;
The will of the Father I've tried hard to do,
And by doing, I know the gospel is true.
Again, I have seen the dark clouds of strife
Hang over our people, and threaten the lives
Of Brigham, and Heber, and John Taylor, too,
And all the brave spirits that to Joseph were true;
But there's more union in Zion today
Than was found in Nauvoo when they drove us away.
We are nerved for the battle, and first on the program
Is to burn up our homes, leave a desolate land—
Leave it barren and foodless, as when we first came;
Not a tree, nor a shelter will we leave on the plain.
Our wives and our children to the mountains must hie,
Then we'll fight for our rights, for we fear not to die.
The people responded with a hearty amen,
For the spirit of freedom burned bright in our glens;
Then wagons and horses, men and women, with carts,
Form in squads and battalions; for Sonora they start;
For three hundred miles, from Logan to Cedar,
A moving, human stream, without captain or leader,
For the light of the prophets was shining so bright
That the humblest pedestrian could see its bright light.
But He, who moves in curious ways, his wonders to perform,
Accepted the offered sacrifice, and calmed the rising storm.Today, Zion's cities are the wonder of the world,
And a temple of beauty stands where our banner is unfurled;
And on the waste, where, as a boy, I herded cows and sheep,
Now twice a year, the Saints of God in solemn conference meet.
And many strangers yearly come our temple to behold,
And go away, and often say, "The half has not been told."These are the scenes that many years have brought into my view,
And I testify, with soberness, the words I speak are true;
And to my wives and children dear, who cluster round my hearth,
I say, with tears of happiness, I'm glad I had a birth.