The boundless prairies learned his name,
His words the mountain echoes knew;
The Northern breezes swept his fame
From icy lake to warm bayou.
In toil he lived; in peace he died;
When life's full cycle was complete,
Put off his robes of power and pride,
And laid them at his Master's feet.
His rest is by the storm-swept waves
Whom life's wild tempests roughly tried,
Whose heart was like the streaming caves
Of ocean, throbbing at his side.
Death's cold white hand is like the snow
Laid softly on the furrowed hill,
It hides the broken seams below,
And leaves the summit brighter still.
In vain the envious tongue upbraids;
His name a nation's heart shall keep
Till morning's latest sunlight fades
On the blue tablet of the deep!
Oliver Wendell Holmes.
In 1854 a survey was ordered of the Isthmus of Darien, and Lieutenant Isaac G. Strain was placed in charge of the work. His party was reduced to great extremities in crossing the isthmus, but bore their sufferings with a heroism seldom surpassed.
THE FLAG
AN INCIDENT OF STRAIN'S EXPEDITION
[1854]