So I found the hoary legend written on an ancient slate—
That one Ezry Jenks prospecting, when he reached this blooming spot,
Thus uplifted to his pardner: “Glory! Moses, let us squat!”
Thus rebounded Moses Adams: “Glory was the foremost word
Which in the untrammelled silence of this wilderness was heard,
And I arnswer, dimly feelin’ like a prophet, grand and slow,
‘Glory kinder sounds like Money—up to glory let her go!’ ”
And this casual conversation in the year of Sixty-eight,
As if by an inspiration he recorded on a slate,
Which ’twas said in later ages—six weeks after—used to hang