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MRS. MARGARET A. CROWL:

BORN: CANADA, SEPT. 14, 1849. This lady was married in 1869 to Amos T. Crowl, and now resides at Merriam Park, Minn. Her poems have appeared in the Piu

SNOWFLAKES. Oh! ye tiny little snowflakes

Falling softly to the ground, Covering valley, hill and bamlet,

Yet not making any sound; Ye remind me of the dewdrops

Falling in the silent night; Watering this great earth-garden

Ere the dawning of the light. Likewise sands of Time are falling

Through his hour-glass sure and slow, Leaving not a trace of footprints

Of our pilgrimage below.
All are mighty! yet how gentle!

We can here a lesson find;
In the paths of love and duty,

Gently work with willing mind.
Work! until Life's sands have fallen

Through the hour-glass, the last time; And our hearts has ceased its beating,

And the bell tolls its last chime. Work until the gentle dewdrops

Water flowers above our dust;
And the Autuinn winds are sighing

A low requiem over us.
Then may gently-falling snowflakes

Wrap us in their snowy sheen;
And our sleep be calm and peaceful
Till the .. Morning" dawn serene.

TWENTIETH ANNIVERSARY. In a quiet village

Down among the hills, Two hearts were united

To bear life's joys and ills. It was in the Autumn,

And was cold enough to snow, But we needed not the weather,

For 'twas twenty years ago.
Then this happy couple

Settled down in life;
Wili was a loving husband,

And Jean a faithful wife.
They worked from early morning

Until the sun was low,
For people had so much to do

Some twenty years ago.
Their cup of joy has oft been full,

And sometimes running o'er;
They've also drank at sorrow's fount

"Ti}l hearts were tired and sore; But we're told with every gloomy cloud

Some silvery linings go;
And they'll be happy as they were

Just twenty years ago.
And as the years fly swiftly by,

May they more trustful be;
Knowing a Heavenly Father's love,

Can all their troubles see.

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NETTIE. Just a score of happy summers

Have passed over your dear head; And you've brought us naught but blessing

With the years that now have fled.
May the hand of time touch lightly,

As the seasons come and go,
Your dear brow; and may no sorrow

O'er your life its shadow throw.
May the coming years be freighted

With a love steadfast and true,
Health, and friends, and every blessing,

Without number, come to you.
And when calls the voice of duty,

May you thoughts of self lay down; Knowing we must bear Life's crosses

If we'd wear the victor's crown. May you hear that welcome plaudit, When old age to you has come: Come ye blessed of my Father, Welcome to your heavenly home."

LOCAL AND NATIONAL POETS OF AMERICA.

167

SAMUEL PHELPS LELAND. That might hunger's keen pang release;

The many shall not bow to the tyrannous few, BORN: HUNTSBURG, O., MARCH 4, 1839.

But all men be treated as men! [ing sue-AFTER being admitted to the bar in LaGrange when the poor for their lives shall not kneelcounty, Ind., Mr. Leland moved to Chicago in

0, when is that time? tell me when! 1863, and thence to Aurora, Illinois. About

Yes, there is a land where the weary can rest, this time he published a book of poems,

A home for the grief-laden heart; (pressed, which passed through two editions. In 1867

A time when true manhood shall not be ophe went to Charles City, Iowa, where he prac

Nor groan under poverty's smart; (come,
A clime where no grief and no sorrow can

Where riches all shall alike share!
To reach it, with Christ we must enter the

tomb;
With Him we must pass it,---'tis there.

POSTHUMOUS APPRECIATION.
There grew a plant, the legends tell,

While many years went by;
It held all fragrance, as a spell,

And mirrored earth and sky:
It garnered all the sweets of air,

From every wind that blew,
And in its life held treasured rare

Worth, more than wise men knew.
One day rough feet, with cruel tread

Had crushed it to the ground,
Lo! when 'twas crushed it fragrance shed,

And filled the air around.
Men marveled that to plant not fair

Such fragrance had been given;
Nor dreamed, till crushed, it was so rare

And held incense of Heaven.

GEORGE RUDDELL.

Born: U'TICA, IND., APRIL 1, 1868. REMOVING to Paola, Kansas, at an early age

George was there educated, and later attended SAMUEL PHELPS LELAND,

the Baker university at Baldwin City, passing ticed law until 1880; thence he went to Europe

examination in that institution two years for a year. Entering the lecture field in 1881,

later. About this time George commenced he still continues to follow that profession. teaching school, which avocation he has since Mr. Leland is in comfortable circumstances,

followed. happy and content with his wife and a host of friends, residing in Charles City in summer

LIFE IS A RIVER. and in Chicago in the winter months.

We can fight a lively battle
WHERE?

To the end if we are true;
They tell of a land where pain is unknown,

We can make our firearms rattle

And the enemy pursue.
Where sorrow and grief have no name;
Where Eden flowers, when once they have

If our cause is what it should be
blown,

And we do what we think right, Bud, blossom eternal, the same; [burn,

We shall live a life as happy Where no wild discontent in madness can

As the noonday sun is bright. To pierce the proud heart to despair

Can't we fight the ever tempter Where anguish on earth felt can never re With a will and all our might, turn

For the joys the Savior's offer, 0, where is that land? tell me where!

For the peace and truth and light? They tell of a time in the distant To Come We have but to push sin backward, An age born of Wisdom and Peace --

And our will then to control; When the poor shall not beg of the rich man And we'ell find our path clear'd homeward the crumb,

There with Christ our Savior stroll

168

LOCAL AND NATIONAL POETS OF AMERICA.

WILL J. WEAVER. BORN: MILL HALL, PA., DEC. 24, 1856. At eighteen years of age Will taught school in the winter months, attending the normal school during the summer; he subsequently graduated at the state normal school in 1880. While attending the normal school Mr. Weaver was chosen editor of the Normal Gazette, which position he filled for several terms, his writings at that time appearing under the

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If not quite all broke up; but still

I reason thus, and ponder,
If pigs in clover" baffle skill,

Lord! what does this, I wonder.
I start with .. Pee," then • Ef” and

.. Vee,” And travel on to - Eshon;" I tangle . Ray"with Dee" and .. Gay,"

Regardless of discretion.
I strive to get the word-signs fixed,

But something seems to blur them, And all the .. hooks" and “curves" get

mixed, Whene'er I try to .. Ster" them. An. Iss" with - Tee” makes it a .Stee,"

It seems most like a fable, “ Yeh-lay' with .. Bee" is .. You-will-be,”

And .. Bee" with El-book" " Able." An - Em" means - me," my," .. him"

and may," While

with * Shon" means • motion,” ... Pee" stands for hope," Pee-el" for

play." And Dee-Vee-Shon".. Devotion." A sign that's halved adds T” or D,"

And lengthened . t-b-r-ther". So Ef,” which commonly means far," Stretched out full length means

farther." - Em” widened adds a P"or..B," As Emb" with

Embody," .. Tee" shortened with the vowel "e"

Transforms it into . Toddy." • Experience" we find in Sprens,"

- Kend-Shon" for - Condescension," Along with many other blends

Too numerous to mention.
At night, in troubled dreams I see,

This science so fantastic,
So that my rest is constantly,

Confused and rhinoplastic.
And shall I ever reach the goal?

Will hoping make me stronger? While crying from my inmost soul,

How long, oh! how much longer!

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WILL J. WEAVER. nom de plume of Edgar A. Po-etic. At the annual meeting of the Alumni association in 1880 he was chosen poet for the meeting of 1881, which brought out his poem of Our Alma Mater. Mr. Weaver's productions have appeared from time to time in numerous publications, and have received favorable mention. He is at present engaged in teaching school in his native county.

PERPLEXITY.
TO MY FELLOW SHORTHAND STUDENTS.
Phonography's a lovely art,

Yet when I try to learn it,
I twist and squirm, for in a trice

I'm all mixed up; and "dern it"
Whene 'er I try to study hard,

And fix in memory clearly, [my guard, These - hooks” and “crooks" once off I'm vexed, so that I'm nearly --

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LOCAL AND NATIONAL POETS OF AMERICA.

169

O'twere sin to doubt Thy goodness

After all the proofs of years.

JOHN HILL LUTHER, D. D.

BORN: WARREN, K. 1., JUNE 21, 1824. Tais gentleman was the president of the Baylor Female College of Belton, Texas, which position he has held since 1879. Mr. Luther has had a great deal of experience as a preacher, teacher and editor. In 1885 he published a

Thou knowest all, O Teacher,

Better than my lips can tell,
How the world allures and mocks me,

And what foes within me dwell –
Knowest all; yet in my weakness

Comes the message, All is well.

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Thou Knowest all, O Teacher;

Knowest when my weary feet
Shall reach the pearly gates on high;

When loved ones gone before shall greet
The chastened spirit, longing most

Thee, Oh my Prince, my Love, to meet.

Then I can wait, and waiting, watch,

And as I watch toil while I may;
For well I know He waits for me –

Nay, often meets me in the way,
Foreshadowing, as he passes by,

The glories of the latter day.

NOW – TAEN.
I know not what may come, ere life

Runs to its close –
Defeat or triumph, 'mid the strife,

That brings repose.

Fresh burdens may await the heart,

Now faint and worn;
And honors, deemed mine own, depart,

By others borne.

JOHN HILL LUTHER, D. D.

A gentle hand is holding mine

By day - by night; little volume of his productions entitled My And paths, untrod before, now shine Verses, and since that time in another neat With glorious light. volume has appeared Souvenir Verses. Dr. Luther is small in stature, with a keen, bright Oh soul, thy lot is princely now, eye, and dark hair sprinkled with silver gray. And ever more He is a most entertaining and scholarly gen To toil, to wait, and then to know tleman, and is beloved and respected wherev Him gone before er he is known.

To watch and listen till He come,

To bear me where
THOU KNOW EST.

The loved ones are, my Heaven, my home, Thou knowest all, O Teacher,

My Eden fair.
My future as well as my past;
The clouds may be drifting toward me,

I only ask to share while here
The shadows gathering fast,

The toil divine; But with thee there is no danger:

To crushed and wounded ones to bear Sunshine must come at last.

The oil and wine; Thou knowest all. O Teacher,

Then 'neath the cross to lay me down
How in weariness and fears

To take sweet rest;
I have sought Thee, found The, heard Thee And wake to wear the promised crown,
Utter words that dried my tears,

Forever blest.

HELEN MAUD MERRILL.

BORN: BANGOR, ME., May 5, 1865. DURING the last decade Helen Maud Merrill has contributed numerous poems to the St. Nicholas, Portland Transcript, and other

Why should I care for those who gaze

On me with old, indifferent eye, Since oft there comes a loving throng

Who never once have passed me by. And yet, this human heart of mine

For human sympathy oft yearns; Yet that in which deception lurks

My whole soul rises up and spurns. For peace and truth and love are mine,

And wheresoe'er these powers are known I walk serene, content to know

That I am never all alone. But human eye a limit has

Which may not penetrate the heart; And so I clasp my faith more close,

And patiently I walk apart.
For well I know there'll come a time

When I'll no longer walk alone,
For in the home that is to be

My heart shall know and claim its own.

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THE ANGEL WIFE. Death's mystery is hers at last.

Through mystic portals she has passed Into the limitless unknown --

The journey each must take alone. What was the secret dying brought?

How was that icy stillness wrought? What were the visions, floating far,

That greeted her from the .. gates ajar?" For with that heavenly smile of peace,

When her pure spirit found release, Bright angels in the azure dome

Were sent to guide her safely home. Now to my waiting ear there seems

A voice to come, as in my dreams; These are the words I seem to hear

From the beautiful soul that hovers near: * Life in the spirit world is sweet,

But needs you, dear, to be complete; Grieve not for that frail form of clay

Which mother earth enfolds to-day; · Nor think that I am gone from you

To a far-off heaven, beyond the blue; Thought cannot bind this world, so fair,

It's many mansions' are ev'rywhere. .. And do not think, because your sight

Is wrapped in earth's gray mist of night, That I forget my promise, dear,

To come again your heart to cheer. - With soul to soul, and mind to mind,

A closer union we shall find; But lives on earth are lived alone,

But here we know as we are known! These are the words that come to me

From the beautiful soul I cannot see, As I sit in the twilight shades alone,

To catch the sound of a seraph's tone.

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