| A fire-mist and a planet, |
| A crystal and a cell, |
| A jellyfish and a saurian, |
| And caves where the cavemen dwell; |
| Then a sense of law and beauty, |
| And a face turned from the clod,— |
| Some call it Evolution, |
| And others call it God. |
| |
| A haze in the far horizon, |
| The infinite, tender sky; |
| The ripe, rich tints of the cornfields, |
| And the wild geese sailing high; |
| And all over upland and lowland |
| The charm of the goldenrod,— |
| Some of us call it Nature, |
| And others call it God. |
| |
| Like tides on a crescent sea-beach, |
| When the moon is new and thin, |
| Into our hearts high yearnings |
| Come welling and surging in,— |
| Come from the mystic ocean. |
| Whose rim no foot has trod,— |
| Some of us call it Longing, |
| And others call it God. |
| |
| A picket frozen on duty, |
| A mother starved for her brood, |
| Socrates drinking the hemlock, |
| And Jesus on the rood; |
| The millions who, humble and nameless, |
| The straight, hard pathway trod,— |
| Some call it Consecration, |
| And others call it God. |
| |
| William Herbert Carruth. |
| Come, listen all unto my song; |
| It is no silly fable; |
| 'Tis all about the mighty cord |
| They call the Atlantic Cable. |
| |
| Bold Cyrus Field he said, says he, |
| I have a pretty notion |
| That I can run the telegraph |
| Across the Atlantic Ocean. |
| |
| Then all the people laughed, and said |
| They'd like to see him do it; |
| He might get half-seas over, but |
| He never could go through it; |
| |
| To carry out his foolish plan |
| He never would be able; |
| He might as well go hang himself |
| With his Atlantic Cable. |
| |
| But Cyrus was a valiant man, |
| A fellow of decision; |
| And heeded not their mocking words, |
| Their laughter and derision. |
| |
| Twice did his bravest efforts fail, |
| And yet his mind was stable; |
| He wa'n't the man to break his heart |
| Because he broke his cable. |
| |
| "Once more, my gallant boys!" he cried; |
| "Three times!—you know the fable,— |
| (I'll make it thirty," muttered he, |
| "But I will lay this cable!") |
| |
| Once more they tried—hurrah! hurrah! |
| What means this great commotion? |
| The Lord be praised! the cable's laid |
| Across the Atlantic Ocean. |
| |
| Loud ring the bells,—for, flashing through |
| Six hundred leagues of water, |
| Old Mother England's benison |
| Salutes her eldest daughter. |
| |
| O'er all the land the tidings speed, |
| And soon, in every nation, |
| They'll hear about the cable with |
| Profoundest admiration! |
|
| And may we honor evermore |
| The manly, bold, and stable; |
| And tell our sons, to make them brave, |
| How Cyrus laid the cable. |
| |
| John G. Saxe. |
| Jane Jones keeps talkin' to me all the time, |
| An' says you must make it a rule |
| To study your lessons 'nd work hard 'nd learn, |
| An' never be absent from school. |
| Remember the story of Elihu Burritt, |
| An' how he clum up to the top, |
| Got all the knowledge 'at he ever had |
| Down in a blacksmithing shop? |
| Jane Jones she honestly said it was so! |
| Mebbe he did— |
| I dunno! |
| O' course what's a-keepin' me 'way from the top, |
| Is not never havin' no blacksmithing shop. |
| |
| She said 'at Ben Franklin was awfully poor, |
| But full of ambition an' brains; |
| An' studied philosophy all his hull life, |
| An' see what he got for his pains! |
| He brought electricity out of the sky, |
| With a kite an' a bottle an' key, |
| An' we're owing him more'n any one else |
| For all the bright lights 'at we see. |
| Jane Jones she honestly said it was so! |
| Mebbe he did— |
| I dunno! |
| O' course what's allers been hinderin' me |
| Is not havin' any kite, lightning er key. |
| |
| Jane Jones said Abe Lincoln had no books at all, |
| An' used to split rails when a boy; |
| An' General Grant was a tanner by trade |
| An' lived 'way out in Illinois. |
| So when the great war in the South first broke out |
| He stood on the side o' the right, |
| An' when Lincoln called him to take charge o' things, |
| He won nearly every blamed fight. |
| Jane Jones she honestly said it was so! |
| Mebbe he did— |
| I dunno! |
| Still I ain't to blame, not by a big sight, |
| For I ain't never had any battles to fight. |
| |
| She said 'at Columbus was out at the knees |
| When he first thought up his big scheme, |
| An' told all the Spaniards 'nd Italians, too, |
| An' all of 'em said 'twas a dream. |
| But Queen Isabella jest listened to him, |
| 'Nd pawned all her jewels o' worth, |
| 'Nd bought him the Santa Maria 'nd said, |
| "Go hunt up the rest o' the earth!" |
| Mebbe he did— |
| I dunno! |
| O' course that may be, but then you must allow |
| They ain't no land to discover jest now! |
| |
| Ben King. |