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PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
T^ y
THE UNIVERSITY
OF ILLINOIS
LIBRARY
au.oa
P39I
OOP- "2>
ST. LOU IS
BEAUTIFUL ILLINOIS
RIVER VALLEY SCENIC
ROUTE, STARVED ROCK,
GRAND VIEW DRIVE,
AND PEORIA'S FAMOUS PARKS
Deirdre
Through the world lonely,
I must be wending
Questing with only
Beauty the ending:
If you would speed me
Bravely along
Kindly ohe , feed me
Morsels of song.
'Pilgrimage 1
Book of Verse
Published for
THE PEORIA ALLIED ENGLISH INTERESTS
by
THE MANUAL e/lRTS PRESS
^Peoria, Illinois
Copyright, 1922
The Manual e/lrts ^Press
12<P21
. 'Of
FOREWORD
IN THE fall of 1921 a group of men and women in
Peoria were considering ways and means of stimulating
a wider interest in poetry. This group was known as the
Allied English Interests because it had acted as a committee
in bringing to Peoria several world-famous poets, and be-
cause it was organizing to undertake larger activities in the
field of literature. A member of the group suggested that
one way of stimulating interest in poetry would be to gather
together the best poems that have been written by Peorians,
and publish them as a community undertaking. This sug-
gestion was approved by the group, and Miss Caroline Rice,
head of the English Department of the Peoria High School,
chairman of the group, appointed the undersigned committee
to carry the suggestion into effect.
A list was made of residents and former residents of
Peoria who were known to have written in verse form.
Letters were sent to these, explaining the project and asking
each writer to submit from one to six of his poems for the
consideration of the committee. The newspapers assisted
very cordially, and within a short time about two hundred
contributions were in the hands of the committee. All of
the contributions were read by each member of the com-
mittee, and then a series of committee meetings was held
which resulted in eliminating about half of the contributions
and expressing unanimous approval of many of the remaining
ones.
Meanwhile, Professor John T. Frederick of the Uni-
versity of Iowa, editor and publisher of The Midland, had
accepted an invitation to read the poems picked out by the
committee and make the final selection for the volume. This
6i~t*y-i Oft
/ fJL&&
he did in August, 1922, and his work resulted in the choice
of the sixty-four poems which appear in this volume.
The committee is grateful to all persons who sent con-
tributions to those whose poems were not selected as well
as to those who were more fortunate. Every contribution
helped in carrying forward the committee's work. The com-
mittee is grateful, also, to the several persons who assisted
in an advisory capacity. And each member of the com-
mittee feels personally indebted to Professor Frederick for
the special service he rendered in making the final selection
and writing the introduction to the volume.
The drawings for the decoration of the volume were
made by Miss Leila M. Thompson of Peoria, and the forms
selected were suggested by the modest shingle oak which is
one of the characteristic trees found on the hillsides and in
the river bottoms around Peoria.
The Committee,
HUGH COOPER,
JENNIE M. CONSTANCE,
EMILY F. JOHNSON,
ELIZABETH V. ROBERTS,
CHARLES A. BENNETT,
Chairman.
CONTENTS
PAGE
Foreword ...................................... 3
Introduction .................................... 9
John T. Frederick
Frontispiece rf/fl M Thompson
The New Building ............................... 11
Easter ........................................ 13
Before Man Was ................................ 14
Julia Proctor White
Santa Claus .................................... 15
John J. O'Keefe
Song of the Steam Shovel ......................... 16
The Two Gods .................................. 18
Josephine Bowman Wetzler
Five Sonnets ................................... 20
John Lancaster Spalding
The Army of the Grass ........................... 25
Apple Trees in California ......................... 26
Across the River, Peoria ........................... 27
Elizabeth Worthington Denison
My Last Cigar .................................. 28
But! .......................................... 30
Robert J. Burdette
The Birthplace of Burns .......................... 33
Robert G. Ingersoll
On the Heights ...................... . ........... 34
A Winter Parable ................................ 36
Julia Harriette Johnston
6 CONTENTS
Homesick 39
Ann Callender Bur dick
Hymn 40
A Child's Prayer 41
William Hawley Smith
Robert Burns 42
Only Parted 44
Samuel Patterson Prowse
Selfishness 45
George Helgesen Fitch
Experience 46
Living Lightly 47
William James Leach
A Triad 48
Ellen Galusha Smith
Home 50
At Bedtime 51
Eugene de'Aguero Brown
Jazz 52
Achievement Instinct 54
Perspective 56
Arthur Galusha Smith
Thanksgiving 57
Florence Jeffers Shearer
I Must Go Back 58
/. Merle Stevens
Sunrise on the Prairie 60
The Exultant 61
Katharine Hart
CONTENTS 7
When Baby Writes 62
This Day 63
Claude Holland Gamble
Little Old House 64
Rain 65
W. Kee Maxwell
Youth 66
Julia Kempshall Clark
Unity 68
Haskell Ready Armstrong
My House of Fame 69
Frances Nancy Martin
Life's Circle 70
Doubting Thomas 72
William Alexander Bone
The Mutual Friend 75
Ernest A. Pasquay
Life's Promise 76
Bessie Curran Smith
Westminster Abbey 77
Ella Beseman
Justice 78
Mark Langdon Rowell
Allegory 80
Joseph Rowe Binjord, Jr.
A Romance of the Springtime 81
Liesel Bewsher
Oh, What a Day! 82
Ruth Virginia Gibson
8 CONTENTS
Even as These 83
Philip Leigh Gibson
Shrine 84
Helen Ida Morrow
Friend 86
Harvey Norman Ringel
A Busy Corner 87
Russell Edward McMurray
Melancholy 88
Lawrence Willard Cockrell
Spring 89
Alsace Moine Crosbie
The Cliff 90
Alice Loveridge
Moonrise on a Misty Evening 91
Thelma Lorraine Crosbie
Blossom-Shrine 92
Camille Mahannah
Indian Women 93
From the Desert 94
Friends 95
Dorothy Crowder
Lake Evening 96
Requiem 97
Holland DeWitte Roberts
A Mid-Summer Bonnet 98
Mary Robinson Gibson
###*####
Biographical Notes 99
INTRODUCTION
BY JOHN T. FREDERICK
HE Peoria Book of Verse brings together
into a single volume the poetic expres-
sion of a community from the beginning
of its history up to the present time.
What the people of one city in the
Middle West of America have thought
and felt is here set down, in the most adequate terms
which have been vouchsafed to those people.
Rightly, the volume is varied. It includes the
poetic expression of many different phases of human
experience, interpreted from widely diverging points
of view. The comic will be found side by side with
the tragic. The validity of the homely expression
of humble, everyday experience has been recognized,
as well as the significance of the lofty and the elo-
quent. Writers among the most distinguished of
their time in America, who have made Peoria their
home, appear here with others who have remained
unknown even in their native city outside a narrow
circle. The mature men and women of Peoria to-
day contribute, along with those of a past generation,
9
10 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
and with the younger writers of the city whose highly
promising first work appears here. The sum total
is a collection which Peorians will read with interest
and treasure with pride.
The thing which Peoria is doing in this book,
however, is significant outside the city itself. In past
years American cities have sought primarily for ma-
terial expression of their civic consciousness. Citi-
zens have been content with numbers of population,
with tall buildings, with manufactures and commerce
as symbols and expressions of their enthusiasm and
their faith. But at the present time it is evident that
American cities are ceasing to be content with
achievements measurable wholly in material terms.
The civic pride of American municipalities is begin-
ning to find expression in parks and playgrounds, in
schools and libraries, in orchestras and art galleries :
in the things of the spirit. The present volume serves
to unify one city's aspiration and achievement in one
of the arts, that of poetry. By its publication Peoria
attains a position of leadership among American
cities in the vitally important movement toward com-
munity consciousness in the arts.
Glennie, Alcona County, Michigan.
September first, 1922.
' That shining pinnacle
THE NEW BUILDING*
JULIA PROCTOR WHITE
Of cold steel are its bones, and poured stone its
marrow.
Hard and unyielding substances provide it form ;
Direct and four-square it rises from the earth,
Built to endure, prepared for generations yet to
come,
A stronghold for the commerce of men's minds.
But from its height blossoms a stately flower
A lovely, airy thing, half dome, half tower.
It was born of dreams,
And it shall beget dreams,
It has a magic power.
Who knows how many a child, seeing it rise
On the bright splendor of the winter skies,
Shall sing with it a triumphant song
And find the home to which his thoughts belong;
Or when the delicate gray mist of spring
Spreads a pale shadow over everything,
*Peoria Life Insurance Building.
11
12 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
How many a watcher on the neighboring hill
Shall feel his heart suddenly thrill
And quicken with new fervor
To see that shape of beauty floating free,
Like a frail palace risen from a shadowy sea.
Or who can tell what toiler in the dust and heat
Shall lift his eyes to meet
That shining pinnacle;
And on the instant, free of time and space,
Feel a cool mountain wind upon his face !
It gives forth light
By day as by night.
It is a prophecy of cities new and fair,
Of better, happier times
When strength shall flower in beauty everywhere.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
EASTER
JULIA PROCTOR WHITE
April days have come again;
Days of sun and days of rain,
Days of wind-swept cloudy weather,
Tears and laughter flung together.
Everything must bud and blossom,
Everything must wake and sing;
They that can not will not
Have no part in spring.
April, touch the broken-hearted!
Lift them from their heavy sleep;
With tears of joy and solemn laughter
Make them laugh and make them weep.
I am one who needs you, April,
I have heard your call to rise.
Let me feel your mighty rapture,
Let me ride your windy skies.
Flood me with your laughing passion,
Shake me with your ecstacy,
Break the cramping shard that binds me,
Strip my useless grief from me.
Take me, wake me, make me live !
Give me all you have to give.
Let my stifled heart recapture
All the glory of the spring,
Till in one tremendous moment
I shall blossom, I shall sing.
14 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
BEFORE MAN WAS
JULIA PROCTOR WHITE
I have come far, and I am tired.
It is good to lie close to the earth,
In the warm sunshine.
I do not wish to be disturbed;
But something calls me.
It calls me when I am running;
When I sleep, it wakens me.
What calls?
When I look for it, it is gone.
Nothing could call from within me !
Fruits and nuts, earth, even the quick water
I can touch;
I hold them in my hands.
What do I want that I can not touch?
What calls ?
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 15
SANTA CLAUS
JOHN J. O'KEEFE
He is the spirit of the mist and snow,
Who sails through the star-lit air,
And carries the song of the mistletoe
To sweethearts everywhere.
He is the breath of a million pines,
That glitter in candle-light;
He is the glow of the lamp that shines
For the poor on Christmas night.
He is the magical artisan
Who fashions a dream from truth,
The boy that lives in the heart of a man,
The soul of eternal youth.
He is the laughter that leads each band
Of carolers joyously;
He is the spirit that guides your hand
When you give sweet charity.
Oh, you fancy him a fat old squire
Lugging a bundle of toys,
But he is the spirit of heart's desire
And the soul of a thousand joys.
You'll never find him up in the skies,
Nor up the chimney flue,
For he is the spirit of love that lies
Deep down in the heart of you!
16 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
SONG OF THE STEAM SHOVEL
JOSEPHINE BOWMAN WETZLER
I tear at the heart of the sleeping earth,
I wake the hills with my noisy mirth,
Through me the dreams of the world have birth.
I throb with a power beyond the ken
Of the pigmy strength of your pigmy men,
Sweating in factory, office, and pen.
Grunting and swinging, I lay my path ;
The soft earth sinks 'neath the weight of my wrath;
The far hills shake to the rock of my laugh.
Your streams I change to the course you please ;
I gut your mountains ; I join your seas ;
The smoke of my breath is on every breeze.
High through the hiss of my mighty steams,
Clear through the discordant grunts and screams,
Harmony swells, the music of dreams.
Music of boilers, tested and strong,
Iron arms riveted, steady and long,
Steaming and dreaming, I sing my song;
Hear me, ye idlers, hark to my song !
I sing of the men who cut your trails,
Who span your rivers and lay your rails,
The man who tries and the man who fails.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 17
I sing of the glory of work well done^
A night's rest earned at the set of sun,
A brave thing dared and a good fight won.
So I sing my song to the men who build,
Till the last ditch is dug and the last cut filled,
Till my fires are dead and my voice is stilled,
Till they scrap me for junk and I'm thrown away;
But I've sung my song and I've had my day,
And the work of my dreams and my toil will stay!
18 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
THE TWO GODS
JOSEPHINE BOWMAN WETZLER
Sometimes I pray to a little God
Who makes His home within
The narrow walls of my own heart,
So filled with selfish sin.
And to this God I send such prayers
As, "Help my man get work,"
And "Help us send the boys through school,'
"Let none our duty shirk,"
"Help Johnnie get his tonsils out,
And, God, sir, I'd be glad
If you would bless the garden truck
Put in this spring by Dad."
But to the other God, my prayers
Must stronger be and higher;
He could not hear the whispered words
Of selfish heart's desire.
This other God is not just mine;
He rules a larger sphere,
And to the voices of all worlds
He bends a list'ning ear.
"Oh, God of law and love," I pray,
Infinite of time and space,
Hide not from this, Thy foolish world,
The glory of Thy face.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 19
"Send faith as Thou doth send the rain,
To ease a fevered earth,
That man may bear the wracking pain
Of spiritual rebirth."
Sometimes I wonder if my prayers
The mighty and the small,
Don't reach the self-same ear at last
And one God hears them all.
20 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
FIVE SONNETS
JOHN LANCASTER SPALDING
I
Free men alone are they who do the right,
For liberty obedience is to law;
And they who from this service sweet withdraw
Are made the slaves of a stern tyrant's might.
To serve within our place and in God's sight,
To keep our lives unstained and without flaw,
To walk in humbleness and holy awe
Is to be clothed with freedom as with light.
The truth, the blessed Saviour said, makes free,
And they who do the right, the truth shall know,
And only they are sons of liberty.
No laws of men the heavenly gift bestow;
The soul is freedom's fort by God's decree,
Which naught but our own deeds can overthrow.
From The Poets Praise
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS. 1887
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 21
II
As one who looks on boundless waste of snow,
When all the world is white, and through the sky
The drifting flakes in blinding currents fly,
Up-caught by winds that eddy to and fro,
And piled in drifts that ever higher grow,
Until all things far as can reach the eye
In one great winding-sheet deep buried lie,
Sees with glad heart, afar his hearth fire glow,
Conscious of the warm love that nestles there;
So human souls, looking on wintry space,
And chilled by fickle blasts of time, turn where,
Through all the dark and doubt and woe, God's face
Appears eternal, patient, and all fair,
Though in the gloom, His form they dimly trace.
From God and the Soul
THE GRAFTON PRESS
22 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
III
Oh, woman, shut within the narrow bound
Of household duties and of petty cares,
The slave of little thoughts and small affairs,
Who in thy treadmill walkest daily round,
To thee the poet comes with blessing crowned,
And builds for thy sore feet the golden stairs
Which upward lead away from all despairs
To the pure heaven where God and love are found.
Oh, love him well; like thee he sorrow knows
And wrongs, to gentle hearts most hard to bear;
Like thee he yearns for worlds where love o'erflows
And works for men who reck not of his care;
Like thee, upborne by love, he onward goes,
Singing his tender thought to some sweet air.
From The Poet's Praise
23
It may be none will read the rhymes I write;
Much better verse has had no better fate,
And truest poetry has oft to wait
The poet's death ere it may claim its right.
I need not gold and find enough delight
In quiet walks where sings a muse sedate;
My task at least is harmless, if not great;
I am content without a proselyte.
Yet in these songs there may be found a note
Which to some dolorous heart will solace bring,
A tone with which high hope will blend and float,
A line to which some memory will cling.
And therefore to their fate I them devote,
Like seed sown in the shifting winds of spring.
From God and the Soul
24 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
V
When shall the poet come, whose thrilling song
Shall sound like voice of God on earth again,
And lift all hearts from selfish joy and pain
To that pure region where all souls belong;
To faith and hope and love, with purpose strong
To do the right, nor seek a richer gain;
To serve, be helpful, just, and so to reign,
Since they are more than kings who war on wrong?
The world is listening now if it may hear
That science, love, religion, all agree,
And with one voice proclaim that God is near;
That what true men have hoped for yet shall be,
That ways we walk in shall grow broad and clear,
Until the struggle cease and all are free.
From The Poefs Praise
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 25
THE ARMY OF THE GRASS
ELIZABETH WORTHINGTON DENISON
The slender lances pierce the mould
With not a hint of sound;
The eager scouts run here and there
On royal business bound.
Then, in a night, the hosts appear,
With emerald banners furled,
And silently proclaim their right
To occupy the world.
26 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
APPLE TREES IN CALIFORNIA
ELIZABETH WORTHINGTON DENISON
They stand amid the blossoming orange trees,
With deep Italian skies and balmy air,
With light and warmth and color everywhere,
And opulent soil enriched through centuries.
All nature woos and smiles and fain wound bless.
Shall not the sweetness of her magic stir
Their calmer, northern blood to worship her,
Requiting with swift bloom her tenderness?
Nay, look upon their leafless, silent boughs
Clad in a patient loyalty sublime.
No passionate call their tranquil blood can rouse;
'Tis winter yet in their far distant clime.
Give me the gift that their dumb life endows.
Give me the faith to trust my own springtime.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 27
ACROSS THE RIVER, PEORIA
ELIZABETH WORTHINGTON DENISON
A dull and grimy street
Where heavy foot-falls beat
Day after weary day
With naught of glad or gay,
Save in the blue above,
To show that life is Love,
A monotone unblest,
A problem still unguessed.
But as I plod along,
One with the toiling throng,
I cross a thoroughfare
And see before me there
Beyond the far street line*
A vision fair and fine
Of river, wood, and sky,
The heart to satisfy.
So, as the spirit fares
Through sordid woes and cares,
Its birthright all unknown,
Its harvest yet unsown,
A vision fine and fair
As of diviner air,
Gleams on the inner sight
Out of the realm of light.
*It is characteristic of the down-town district of Peoria that
many of the streets seem to end in the broad river, beyond which
are the wooded bluffs of Tazewell County.
28 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
MY FIRST CIGAR
ROBERT J. BURDETTE
'Twas just behind the woodshed,
One glorious summer day,
Far o'er the hills the sinking sun
Pursued his westward way;
And in my safe seclusion
Removed from all the jar
And din of earth's confusion,
I smoked my first cigar.
It was my first cigar!
It was the worst cigar!
Raw, green, and dank, hide-bound and rank,
It was my first cigar!
Ah, bright the boyish fancies
Wrapped in the smoke-wreaths blue;
My eyes grew dim, my head was light,
The woodshed round me flew !
Dark night closed in around me
Black night without a star
Grim death methought had found me
And spoiled my first cigar.
It was my first cigar!
A six-for-five cigar!
No viler torch the air could scorch
It was my first cigar!
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 29
All pallid was my beaded brow,
The reeling night was late;
My startled mother cried in fear,
"My child, what have you ate?"
I heard my father's smothered laugh,
It seemed so strange and far;
I knew he knew I knew he knew
I'd smoked my first cigar!
It was my first cigar!
A give-away cigar!
I could not die I knew not why
It was my first cigar!
Since then I've stood in reckless ways,
I've dared what men can dare,
I've mocked at danger, walked with death,
I've laughed at pain and care;
I do not dread what may befall
'Neath my malignant star,
No frowning fate again can make
Me smoke my first cigar.
I've smoked my first cigar!
My first and worst cigar!
Fate has no terrors for the man
Who's smoked his first cigar!
From Smiles Yoked with Sighs
Copyright, 1900. Used by special
permission of the publishers,
THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY.
30 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
BUT!
ROBERT J. BURDETTE
(Dedicated to Capricornicus, the great butter!)
THE MUSICIAN
Her white hands over the white keys strayed,
But her soul was above the stars;
And the far-off look in her eyes betrayed
The fire in the wayward bars.
Then her spirit found birth in a burst of song,
For Music held her hands,
And the full-born harmony flowed along
Like the cadence of angel bands!
And the listening multitudes thronged to hear,
And, weeping, they went away,
A-fire and a-tremble, with love and fear
To dream, and to do, and to pray.
But! The lodgers upstairs and across the street
Prayed heaven that the howl might cease;
And they rent their garments and tore their hair,
And yelled, "POLICE! POLICE!"
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 31
THE ARTIST
Long, with head bowed down,
He gazed at the embers' glow
Till the midnight paused o'er the slumbering town,
And the waning moon hung low.
Then his dark eyes flashed with a genius rare;
To the easel he sprang with a bound.
And he wrought by the glimmering firelight there
While the shadows gathered around.
And all night long,
Till the pale, pale dawn
Looked in at his casement dim,
He painted "The Song of the Dying Swan,"
And the song she sang to him,
And the wondering throngs of awe-struck men,
Knelt down to the dream he had wrought;
For he painted the Soul of the Where and the When
The Never, the Which, and the Ought!
But! When it was dry, he took it down
And bore it far from thence;
And sold it for gold in a distant town,
For two dollars and fifteen cents.
32 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
THE POET
He could not sleep,
For the stars were calling,
The spaces of blue burned white for him;
The echoes of night around him falling
Came up through the ether clear and dim.
It were profane to light a taper!
Low on the breast of the night he leaned!
He found in the dark some ink and paper,
And then, with his eyes from the starlight screened,
He wrote with a pen that went swiftly flying,
Over the pages that flew away,
The songs of Light that the night was singing
The joyous songs of the coming day,
Words that should be for aye and forever,
Thoughts that should stand while time should last
Dreams of tomorrow, yesterday, never,
Words which would sun and the moon outlast.
But! He carted them down next day to the sanctum,
"Read, then," he cried, "what the Muse declares!"
Straight to the door the editor yanked 'em
And fired him down two flights of stairs.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 33
THE BIRTHPLACE OF BURNS*
ROBERT G. INGERSOLL
Though Scotland boasts a thousand names,
Of patriot, king, and peer,
The noblest, grandest of them all
Was loved and cradled here.
Here lived the gentle peasant-prince,
The loving Cotter-King,
Compared with whom the grandest lord
Is but a titled thing.
'Tis but a cot roofed in with straw,
A hovel made of clay,
One door shuts out the snow and storm
One window greets the day.
And yet I stand within this room
And hold all thrones in scorn,
For here, beneath this lowly thatch
Love's sweetest bard was born.
Within this hallowed hut I feel
Like one who clasps a shrine,
When the glad lips at last have touched
The something deemed divine.
And here the world, through all the years,
As long as day returns,
The tribute of its love and tears
Will pay to Robert Burns.
Aug. 19, 1878.
*From the author's manuscript copy of this poem which has
hung for many years in the librarian's office in the Peoria Public
Library.
34 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
ON THE HEIGHTS*
JULIA HARRIETTS JOHNSTON
The beautiful bending river,
The billows of changing green,
The light where the sunbeams quiver,
The shadows that lie between
Are seen from the heights above them,
Where lieth a charmed repose,
And one can but look and love them
From dawn till the daytime's close.
The fields in the sunlight golden,
Respond to the smiling sky;
The tale is a story olden:
The harvester's joy is nigh.
The gold of the sheaf and stubble
Lies brilliant against the green;
The stress of the toil and trouble
Is gone from the happy scene.
The heights overlook the beauty;
Refreshment and rest are here;
But some one toiled at his duty,
And yonder the fruits appear.
The peace of the heights will rest thee
With a look beyond and below;
But the call of the field will test thee,
And ultimate fruit will show.
Prospect Heights, Peoria.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 35
So hark, for a season's quiet,
To the syllables, soft and sweet,
Where the whispering breezes riot,
And the birds for their chorus meet.
In the hush of the heights unbroken,
Recover thy strength, and then,
When the ringing word is spoken,
Hie down to the fields again.
From Bright Threads
THOMAS Y. CROWELL & Co. 1897
36 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
A WINTER PARABLE*
JULIA HARRIETTS JOHNSTON
How still it is! Did ever shout
Of summer friends ring blithely out?
The echoes of the long ago
Are muffled in the fallen snow;
The hills, through many a day and night
Have kept their fleecy garments white;
The gorge between is heaped and piled
With drifts fantastic, wind-beguiled.
The narrow footway, lost or strayed,
Reveals one track where he essayed
Our venturous guide but yesterday
To pass along the untrodden way.
And yet the pathway, as of old,
Leads on through wonders manifold,
Until the rocky cave we win,
And walls familiar shut us in.
But never in the bloom of May,
Nor ever in midsummer day,
Amid the wealth of living green,
Was sight so fair by mortal seen.
O miracle of ice and frost,
This columned splendor, light-embossed!
All common words of praise are lost!
The drops that in the summer fall
And lose themselves in channels small
Have felt the Frost-King's icy spell
*Refers to Rocky Glen, near Peoria, in winter.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 37
And turned to jewels as they fell.
Ah, plashing drops, to purpose spilt,
What crystal marvels ye have built:
Two pillars, of such measurement
We may not guess their full extent,
With flutings fine and traceries rare
And frostings all beyond compare.
But hark to the murmur of water!
That musical murmur we know.
Where is it? Where is it?
There is it? There is it?
Yes; it is tinkling and rippling and sprinkling,
Making soft laughter below,
Melodious laughter below.
The spring from above never ceases to flow;
A way it will find,
Through the shaft or behind,
Rippling in laughter below,
And slipping past the crystal bolts,
Right onward doth it go,
Down deep beneath the snow.
Talk not of silence while brooklets are singing,
All softly, down under the snow.
Grieve not because the sight and tone,
By man unheard, unseen, unknown,
Are beautiful to God alone.
But now another sweet surprise
Lies hidden under snowy guise.
38 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
The bank where ferns are wont to grow
Is swept of drifted depths of snow,
And lo ! some green things growing there
A summer look of beauty wear.
The winter parable is old,
And yet may often be retold:
Some pleasant growths resist the cold,
And often that which seems to chill,
Protects and serves and blesses still.
Yet mark the roots must lie below.
Go where the ferns are wont to grow,
If you would find them 'neath the snow.
But winter twilight comes apace;
And evening shadows interlace
The leafless branches, lifted high
Like pleading arms against the sky.
Our zigzag track we soon retrace,
Albeit with uncertain grace.
The entrance to the gorge we reach,
And homeward go too glad for speech;
While silent stars behold again
The marble beauty of the glen,
And through the silence and the snow
The living waters softly flow.
From Bright Threads
THOMAS Y. CROWELL & Co. 1897
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 39
HOMESICK
ANN CALLENDER BURDICK
My heart and brain are city-tired to-night:
The endless rush and roar, the life that seems
To be not life, but, to a mortal spent,
Discordant echoes of a restless dream!
Oh, shadows of the past that walk with me,
To-night I have turned coward for your sake,
Praying that when the morning's sun shall rise,
The dream will pass, and I shall be awake.
Again to know the silence of the hills,
The mighty, wordless anthem of the sea,
The song of birds, the fragrance of the earth,
And all that life was really meant to be.
From Thoughts in Verse
40 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
HYMN
WILLIAM HAWLEY SMITH
Great God, how infinite thou art,
How infinite are we;
We are of thee a living part,
Thy children like to thee.
Eternal progress marks the way
Thy Spirit ever moves;
No dead form or finality
Thy living will approves.
Forever forward is the law
Of life in God and man;
There is no limit, bound, or flaw
In life's unmeasured plan.
Great God, how infinite thou art,
How infinite are we;
Help us each day to do our part
To make ourselves like thee.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 41
A CHILD'S PRAYER
WILLIAM HAWLEY SMITH
When it gets dark, the birds and flowers,
Shut up their eyes and say goodnight;
And God, Who loves them, counts the hours
And keeps them safe till it gets light!
Dear Father! Count the hours to-night,
When I'm asleep and cannot see;
And, in the morning, may the light
Shine for the birds, the flowers, and me !
42 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
ROBERT BURNS
SAMUEL PATTERSON PROWSE
Auld Scotia hails him wi' acclaim
The king o'er ilka rhymer.
'Mang a' the bards o' daithless fame
What ither sings diviner?
He toils, yet trills; frae couthie breast
The cantie notes are springing,
Like lav' rocks rising in the east
That soaring, still keeps singing.
Wi' fascinating power he sings
Life's common joys and sorrows,
And frae earth's laigh and limpit things
Apt illustration borrows.
We aften think o' Duncan Gray,
O' shaws whar birds are singing,
O' simmer blink on flow'ry brae
Whar heather bells are ringing;
O' roguish glint in Peggy's ee,
O' lad what lo'ed the lasses,
O' rigs o' barley on the lee,
And sunrise owre the passes.
We see John Anderson again,
And straik Meg's gowden tresses;
His Highland Mary's smile we ken,
We think o' Jean's caresses.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 43
We wanner by the banks o' Cree
Wi' maid o' Ecclefechan,
And when we lilt, "They shall be free,"
Our Scottisch hearts are pechin'.
His verses live a' unimpaired
By change o' time or fashion;
They speak the tongue by a' men shared,
Inspired by human passion.
The secret o' his power we ken
The same through a' the ages
'Tis only he who loves a' men
That love o' men engages.
44 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
ONLY PARTED
SAMUEL PATTERSON PROWSE
Earth has her mysteries
With which eternal shadows ever blend,
And life is mantled in a solemn guise
That mortals cannot rend.
Could we have vision clear
As one of old, touched by the prophet's hand,
How closely would this world of ours appear
Linked to the Spirit Land!
Who has not felt the rush
Of an unseen and gently soothing power
That steals o'er heavy hearts with solemn hush
In sorrow's trying hour?
There come at such a time
Glad words that sinless angels fain would hear,
And oft they bring a longing for that clime
Where love has cast out fear.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 45
SELFISHNESS
GEORGE HELGESEN FITCH
I did a heartless thing to-day;
The memory rankless still.
'Twas Charlie Jones who barred my way
And asked with nervous thrill
If I would help a fellow-man
By poverty set wild
And let him join the circus clan
By lending him a child.
I am inclined to charity.
Jones nearly got his prize,
And then each child I seemed to see
Gazing with starry eyes
At lions, elephants, and bears,
A shouting wondering elf
"No sir," I growled, "I'll not go shares.
I'll take them all myself."
46 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
EXPERIENCE
WILLIAM JAMES LEACH
To do my work and be myself,
Serenely day by day;
To hold my peace until I know
The word I ought to say;
To learn to give of what I have
For those who may have need;
To lift my life until it find
Expression in a deed;
To live content, yet eagerly
Press on to better things;
To hold, through all my days, the joy
With which glad childhood rings;
To stand alone when others may
Not choose to stand with me;
To give to every fellow-man
This same large liberty;
To see my cherished plans go wrong
And yet not lose my hope;
To walk sometimes in darkness
But never have to grope;
To feel my faith in God and man
Grow brighter day by day;
To learn to live and love and serve;
Most earnestly I pray.
From Poems and War Letters
THE MANUAL ARTS PRESS, 1922
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 47
LIVING LIGHTLY
WILLIAM JAMES LEACH
My Father, may my hold on life
Be strong and sure and light.
When I should stand, then may I have
The grace and grit to fight.
But when I lose, may I have sense
To get me straight away,
Thankful that I may have a chance
To fight another day.
In such a changing world may I
Not bind myself too fast,
Even to what most precious seems,
For things here do not last.
My friends may I hold dear, and yet
Let me not lean on them.
Who knows the hour I may reach out
In vain to touch the hem
Of that one's garment who stood near
So long, to be my strength?
And I shall stand at last alone.
Each life has its own length.
May I, if this whole day be mine,
Work hard till it is past; -
Be ready to let go and smile,
If this should be my last.
From Poems and War Letters
THE MANUAL ARTS PRESS, 1922
48 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
A TRIAD
ELLEN GALUSHA SMITH
Yesterday: Coffin of our hopes and cradle of our
fears,
A vale of sad regrets for all the good we might
have done,
A time to look upon with stinted smiles and plenteous
tears,
A land of shadows, save where lit by Love's re-
flected sun.
And yet, we linger with a fond regret along the way
That leads us on, and sigh to leave the tomb of
Yesterday.
To-day : A living spark that gleams between two end-
less nights,
A grain of sand that slips between what was and
is to be,
A breath, full freighted with the odors of our sweet
delights,
Or heavy laden with the dews that rise from Sor-
row's sea,
A battle ground, where good and ill wage never end-
ing strife.
Oh, great To-day ! thou art, we are we know no
more of life.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 49
To-morrow: Sweet deluder of our ever troubled
race;
To-morrow I shall be healthier, wealthier, wiser;
So, to-day's poverty and pain I bear with better
grace.
Oh, a thousand times as mean as the most sordid
miser
Is the grim cynic who would cheat us, in our present
sorrow,
Of the bright hues of Hope, whose bow of promise
spans To-morrow!
50 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
HOME
EUGENE DE'AGUERO BROWN
Stands at the end of a quiet street,
Right where the town and the country meet,-
Our little house, with its nice brown face,
Lending a welcoming air and grace.
Strong in its trimming of milky white,
Breaking the sky-line by day or night,
Pleasantly smiling, it seems to say:
"Here is a house that has come to stay."
Just 'round the corner the countryside
Spreads out its arms till they're open wide,
Bidding you walk in the clear, fresh air
Out to the country of Don' t-Know- Where,
Out to the quiet of timbered dales,
Filled full of legends and fairly tales.
Home! And the echo rings loud and clear.
Oh, when I'm tired, just leave me here.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 51
AT BEDTIME
EUGENE DE'AGUERO BROWN
At bedtime, when the world is still
And good-nights all around are said,
Our children straggle up the hill
That leads them to their fluffy bed.
And sometimes I just straggle too,
And run a race to get undressed,
Or listen while they all go through
The little prayers they love the best.
And sometimes when the light's turned out,
I'll tickle them with funny rhymes,
Or funny things I've heard about,
Or little jokes, and then sometimes
I get in bed with them and play.
It makes them laugh, and kick, and squeal,
And, thinking back along the way,
I know exactly how they feel.
And by and by their eyes, seems like,
Get heavy. Now their Mother's there,
And kisses ev'ry little tyke,
And tucks them in with tender care.
And then we stand there, spell-bound, and
At last we gently slip away,
As eyelids, set with slumber sand,
Have gone to rest until the day.
52 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
JAZZ
ARTHUR GALUSHA SMITH
In the marble lobby of the great hotel they stood,
Laughing, jesting,
Waiting for the bronze doors to open
To slide aside for them
That they might whisk aloft to sound-drenched
floors above,
And pay obeisance with their splendid, lithe, young
bodies
To the modern god
Of Jazz!
Youth was theirs, and beauty of a sort,
For they had so bestowed upon themselves
The fullest functionings of razor, tweezers, searing
needle, lotion, powder, cream, and tint,
That art had fairly well supplied
What modern beauty's standard needs,
In any certain case,
Deem fit and fashionable!
Wealth was surely theirs,
For suits, silks, furs, feathers, jewels, perfumes,
All called out that money was their slave.
Wit, too, was theirs,
For one said to his friends
The while his polished shoe caressed the slavered,
brazen urn
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 53
That stood there on its littered rubber mat
"The drinking glasses may be short up there.
"Had we not better take this with us as we go?"
Oh, vanished sturdy prairie pioneers !
The wealth that gushed out from your toiling hands,
The dear-bought wisdom of your rugged minds
Have fruited now in children's children
Sickening jesters
Worshipers of Jazz !
America ! America !
Like Rome of old we die
If on our topmost branches there
We burgeon largely
Into painted, sterile fruits
Like these!
Of Jazz!
54 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
ACHIEVEMENT INSTINCT
ARTHUR GALUSHA SMITH
Along the highway of the states,
From east to west
I saw white painted, huge,
On flattish roofs of barns,
Stark numerals faced upward
Toward the sky.
I thrilled!
These were the sign posts,
Reading from above,
To guide the airmen
In their prairie flight.
The night came down
With fog and rain.
Gone was every huge and staring guide.
Yet on and on through all that night
Wild geese clove the inky black,
And with their age-old cries
(That prickle through man's blood)
Called each to each:
"All's well ! We travel south
To our appointed place."
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 55
With eyes fast closed
I looked far back
Down aeons, vague with vanished years,
And there an ape-man, naked
Crouched within a tropic cave,
Dull reason dimly showing
Upon his fearful face.
But even then, in that remote abyss of time
That hairy savage heard the wild geese call
Just as they call today.
56 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
PERSPECTIVE
ARTHUR GALUSHA SMITH
The near thing
That's the dear thing
Is so hard for us to see.
While the far thing,
Like some star thing,
Lures with its mystery.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 57
THANKSGIVING
FLORENCE JEFFERS SHEARER
That Thou to me hast granted life,
And placed me here, right here, and now,
To toil and strive, to sing and dream
A unit needed in Thy scheme
I give Thee thanks.
That I may clasp the hand and gaze
Into the eyes of trusted friend,
And in their mirrored depths I see
A tender love and loyalty,
I give Thee thanks.
That in the petals of the rose,
And in the song of trilling bird,
And in the forest creatures play,
I see Thy joyous radiancy,
I give Thee thanks.
That when the sunlight thrills my soul,
And gleams afar o'er hut and dome,
And when clouds shift in murky air,
I feel Thy presence everywhere,
I give Thee thanks.
That when my steps are faltering,
And indecision hides my path;
When doubts and fears obscure my sight,
Thy guidance leads me to the light,
I give Thee thanks.
58 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
I MUST GO BACK
J. MERLE STEVENS
I must go back and find again
The little home I used to know;
I must go back and live once more
Those happy days of long ago.
I must go back!
Adown the unforgotten way
I'll find my childhood home once more,
The weeping willow by the well,
And mother standing at the door.
The trundle-bed where once I slept
I'll kneel again beside it there,
And as my mother taught me then,
I'll say again my evening prayer.
The sweetheart of the long ago
I must go back and find her, too,
With golden hair and sunny smile,
And eyes that like the skies were blue.
The old romance, the youthful dreams,
Have gone too far, too far away,
I must go back to them again,
Some where along the backward way.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 59
I must go back and find again
The childhood hope that knew no fears ;
I must not lose, in manhood's ways,
The God and faith of childhood's years.
Ah, me ! the days that used to be !
How far, how far they seem away!
I seek them through the mist of years
It is so far to yesterday!
I must go back !
60 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
SUNRISE ON THE PRAIRIE
KATHARINE HART
The thick grey clouds lie piled in masses high;
The south wind softly sweeps the silent plain;
The pale stars wane;
Afar the lightning comes and goes again;
All nature sleeps, tho' waking time is nigh.
Alone a tiny insect lifts its voice ;
Is answered back repeats its questioning notes.
Then upward floats
From myriad infinitesimal throats
The gladsome song "The Night is gone ! Rejoice !"
Down in the east, among the tints of grey,
Appears a long, low line of golden light.
In glory bright
The sun sends forth strong beams of radiant might,
And clears the pathway for the coming day!
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 61
THE EXULTANT
KATHARINE HART
Comes the Exultant,
Speeding on buoyant feet through ether rare,
His face uplifted to the burning stars,
His heart enfolding all the universe,
And Life and Love within his outstretched hands.
With dauntless mien he fronts the ardent sun,
Triumphant, fearless in its pulsing light;
The joy of joy expands his radiant form,
And peans ecstatic swell his raptured soul.
Lo ! The Exultant !
62 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
WHEN BABY WRITES
CLAUDE HOLLAND GAMBLE
When baby writes,
He puts a piece of pencil in his hand
And gets a sheet of paper, large or small,
And then he makes some letters that are grand,
Although you cannot read the things at all
When baby writes.
When baby writes,
He makes a square and then a curving line;
Perhaps he makes a cross across the sheet,
And every daddy says his writing's fine
When baby writes.
When baby writes,
He doesn't use the language that you know ;
He's got a little language all his own:
A cross means love, a dot's a kiss just so;
To dads and mas and babies they are known
When baby writes.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 63
THIS DAY
(Armistice Day, 1921)
CLAUDE HOLLAND GAMBLE
Three years ago the big guns worked then halted;
Three years ago the rifles spoke then stilled;
Three years ago the Right was high exalted;
The war was ended as our Nation willed;
Three years ago we pledged our faith and station;
Three years ago we owed our men a debt;
Three years ago we promised God and Nation
Our best. God help, lest, foolish, we forget !
64 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
LITTLE OLD HOUSE
W. KEE MAXWELL
Little old house with the big front yard,
Where the phlox and asters grow,
Where the sentinel maples stand on guard
In a silent, soldierly row,
Whithersoever my steps may roam,
Little old house, you are home, sweet home !
Rollicking kids, on your friendly floor,
How we romped the years away!
Little old house, by your low front door
There was crepe on a springtime day.
Sobbing and laughter, smiles and tears,
These you shared in the long-gone years.
Time is a tide that is never still;
Ever it sweeps us on
Further and further from Youth until
Life, ere we know, is gone.
Little old house, how the years have flown
Since you knew and sheltered me as your own !
Little old house, there is luxury
In my modern domicile ;
An architect earned himself a fee
To fashion its grace and style.
But oh, were it marble with gilded dome,
Little old house, you are home, sweet home !
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 65
RAIN
W. KEE MAXWELL
Rain a little, rain a lot,
Rain all day, it matters not.
Though the lanes like freshets run,
Love is love in rain or sun.
Drizzle, drizzle, drab and gray,
Through the weary, dreary day
Never matter; rain and sun
Are the same when love is done.
66 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
YOUTH
JULIA KEMPSHALL CLARK
I am Youth.
I drink from the fountains of life,
I ride on the sunbeams at dawn,
I dance while you mourn,
And I am unafraid.
You, in advance, step aside!
You can not impede my approach.
I must conquer I always conquer.
Obstacles do not appall me,
Heap them high as you will,
For I know that the world is mine,
All that there is is mine.
A few years and all power, wisdom, knowledge, are
in my grasp,
For I am the Future's statesman, scholar, scientist,
merchant, soldier, ruler.
You can not deny me ; you can not even delay me ;
No power so mighty that I may not o'ercome it.
Mine is the stride of the conqueror;
In my heart is the strength of the victor.
Love is mine; love mighty, compelling,
Love creative, consuming.
Life and love are mine ; none can deny me.
Onward I come. Step aside ! Step aside !
I am the feminine of Youth.
I dance and I dress, I sing and I laugh,
For aeons are futile without me.
PEOR1A BOOK OF VERSE 67
In my arms, weak though they seem,
Shall be cradled the might of the future.
From my pains and my anguish
Spring Earth's power and glory.
No nation so strong it can set me aside ;
Thrones, kingdoms, republics are naught without me.
The world lies in my untried grasp.
Life, love, joy, pain, ye are mine all are mine.
******
I am the masculine of Youth.
The world waits for me welcomes me.
I can take what I reach none denies me.
All power is mine, I feel it astirring;
Age, manhood and womanhood are naught be-
side me.
Love calls, resistless, puissant.
From my loins spring the hordes of the nations;
Legions await only my summons.
Life's vista's aglow with resplendence;
The game is a glad one, I shrink not, I fear not,
For I am the victor, predestined through time.
On life's pinions I come. Step aside ! Step aside !
68 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
UNITY
(A Memorial Day Poem)
HASKELL READY ARMSTRONG
One flag above, one land beneath;
One nation proud, its arms in sheath.
One thought, one sorrow; gone are they
Whose deeds we honor here today.
One flag above, one land beneath;
One nation proud, its arms in sheath.
One heart, one head bowed down to pray
For those we honor here today.
Two flags had they, two lands they knew;
Two armies brave their trusts kept true.
Two were they then one now are they
Whose lives we honor here today.
One flag o'erhead, one earth beneath;
Let nations all their arms ensheath;
Let kingdom quarrels give place to love ;
Stop war, O Infinite Power above !
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 69
MY HOUSE OF FAME
FRANCES NANCY MARTIN
Long years ago when Life and Thought were young,
I planned a wondrous House of Fame
Therein to dwell in gratified content
As all sang praises to my name.
But Time sped swiftly by me year by year
With Duty calling me by name,
And, when the necessary tasks were done,
No time was left to build for Fame.
And now with ripened years, I ask, oh, Life,
Not laurel wreath, not plaudits loud,
But give me strength to lend a helping hand
To those in grief and sorrow bowed.
I ask for health to do some needed work,
For friends whom I may trust and love,
For vision clear to see beyond Life's clouds
To greater usefulness Above.
70 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
LIFE'S CIRCLE
WILLIAM ALEXANDER BONE
We live in circles just as big
And broad as we are great;
Inside, a paradise of love;
Outside, the fires of hate.
We draw a ring around a chosen
Clique or special clan;
Inside, we label caste; outside,
We give to common man.
And thus our love may circle self,
Without a single friend,
Or reach around the world, and
Like the circle never end.
I limit mine by just how much of
Life I strive to live;
I measure it by just how much of
Love I try to give.
Your circle may not circle me,
Nor hold a love for two ;
Yet, I can draw a circle big enough
To encircle you.
Your love may turn me down as if
Your circle thought me sin;
And yet, my love can circle out and
Take your circle in.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 71
Your circle may be hate, and you
May shut and bar the doors;
And yet, love's circle never ends;
'Twill always circle yours.
There is no boundary line to God's
Infinite sphere of love;
It covers all the earth and reaches
To the stars above
Like Him, who came to save the world,
To raise it from its fall,
His circle was so big and broad His
Love encircled all.
72 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
DOUBTING THOMAS
WILLIAM ALEXANDER BONE
Ben Franklin says, "I'll take a kite an' key
An' shock the world with electricity.
Nobody's done it that I know,"
But Doubtin' Thomas says, "Go slow!
Old man, your bonnet's full o' bees-^-
No 'lectric shocks in kites an' keys."
But then there was. Old Benny sailed his kites
Till all the world has got electric lights.
Then Eli Whitney says, "Guess I'll start in
An' figger out some sort o' cotton gin.
Nobody's done it that I know,"
But Doubtin' Thomas says, "Go slow!
My boy, the world has got enough
Won't anybody drink the stuff."
But then, "he got there, Eli" with his gin
An' this old world begun to weave an' spin.
Then Cy McCormick vowed, "I'll bring to pass
A time when man can ride an' mow the grass.
Nobody's done it that I know,"
But Doubtin' Thomas says, "Won't mow!
No man will ever see the day
He'll beat a scythe fer cuttin' hay."
But then he did. The old McCormick's mowed
Most all the timothy that's ever growed.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
But old Bob Fulton had a funny dream
About a boat he'd build to run by steam.
"Nobody's built one that I know,"
But Doubtin' Thomas says, "Won't go !
The idee trav'lin' anywhere
By power o' steam it's all hot air !"
You bet it was. I've been takin' notes
An' find the sea is full o' steamin' boats.
Then Sam'l Morse swore that he could fire
Intelligence right through a coil o' wire.
"Nobody's done it that I know,"
But Doubtin' Thomas says, "Won't go !
The idee of a simple sound
A foller'n coils o' wire around!"
But then it did. Old Sammy turned the trick.
An' now the telegraph goes click-ity-click.
An' now Marconi up an' says, "I jing!
I have no use fer wires ner anything.
Nobody needs them that I know,"
But Doubtin' Thomas says, "No show
Fer him ! Jest watch him rave an' tear
That feller's talkin' through the air."
You bet he wus. He choked old Tommy's laugh
An' gave the world a wireless telegraph.
74 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
An' there's them flyin' Wrights, Ohio dudes,
Both up an' said they'd conquer altitudes.
"Nobody's done it that we know,"
But Doubtin' Thomas says, "Don't crow!
Can't see no wings ner tail in sight,
An' don't believe them boys be Wright."
But then they was. Sailed altitudes so high
Blame Yankee dudes put near run out o' sky.
Then old Prof. Roentgen says, "With my X-ray
I'll see what's in a man as plain as day.
"Nobody's done it that I know,"
But Doubtin' Thomas says, "Not so !
There ain't no livin' man kin see
A tarnel thing inside o' me !"
Guess he was right. Prof, turned his X-ray on
But couldn't find a thing Tom's brains was gone.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 75
THE MUTUAL FRIEND
(To a Soldier in France)
ERNEST A. PASQUAY
The daylight fades;
Soft evening shadows fall;
Night spreads her sable wings,
And solitude pervades.
Flooding the sky
With limpid golden light,
The smiling moon breaks forth,
And fleeing clouds float by.
My searching glance
Through vaulted sky beholds
The Star, which greeted you
Somewhere in France.
76 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
LIFE'S PROMISE
BESSIE CURRAN SMITH
Sunset comes with wondrous glow,
Just before the twilight gray,
Bringing with its mellow light
Promise of another day.
Autumn comes with richest tints,
Warmly touching everything,
Bringing with its lavish wealth
Promise of another spring.
So the change which we call death-
For the soul is Nature's rest
Bringing with its mystic power
Promise of victorious quest.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 77
WESTMINSTER ABBEY
ELLA BESEMAN
Great pile, thou speak' st a language of thine own!
Thy chapels, towers, monuments, and spires,
Thy carvings, tombs, ana every stone on stone
Breathe of the souls once filled with heavenly fires.
What builders brought their noblest gifts to thee !
What artists wrought through countless weary hours !
What kings before thine altars bent the knee !
What honored dead came here when earth's fair
bowers
No longer held them with a magic spell !
In truth, thou glorious temple of the Lord,
Thou art the home of earth's great thoughts as well;
In thee, ideals, hopes, honors, dreams are stored.
Thou sayest to the world's admiring eyes,
"The soul lives on, 'tis but the clay that dies."
78 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
JUSTICE
MARK LANGDON ROWELL
The rulers of earth are new,
But the laws of the earth are old,
And will compass the range of the seasons of change
Till the fullness of time is told.
Ye can build in what manner ye will,
But your fabric will fall to the flaw.
Ye may think to do wrong by the right of the strong,
But ye cannot evade the law.
Ye may hold up its wisdom to scorn;
Ye may mock at the might of its breath,
But its truth will outlive any slur ye can give,
For "the wages of sin is death."
The nations have governed the earth
In the might of their power and pride,
Whom the wrath of the world to destruction hath
hurled
For the law that they cast aside.
The kings of the earth have built
On the dust where their fathers slept,
And have mustered their braves on the turf-sodded
graves
Where the wars of their sires have swept.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 79
The fabric of earth is old,
And the dust on its altars is deep.
Will ye boastingly sing of the wisdom ye bring
Nor remember the law ye keep?
For the law shall forever endure,
And your children shall bow to its rod
In obedience meet till they climb to the feet
Of its maker, and judge, and God.
80 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
ALLEGORY
JOSEPH ROWE BINFORD, JR.
At close of day when dusk is nigh,
A glory road shines in the sky
And flames and flashes far on high
When dusk is come.
The dead are dead, and in their stead
Is naught to mark that they have bled,
Save many a poppy's brilliant red,
At evening time.
A half majestic, earthly throng,
The hosts of battle march along,
Supernal voices raised in song,
In praise of Him.
On, on they go. The light is dim;
On, on beyond the earth's gold rim,
The hosts of battle follow Him,
Through sunset's glow.
The glory road leads to the west;
The dead are marching to their rest,
And Christ enfolds them in His breast,
At close of day.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 81
A ROMANCE OF THE SPRINGTIME
LIESEL BEWSHER
As softly as a flitting moth,
Spring came, dancing, in the night
And left behind her as a gift
My little pear tree decked in white.
A burst of bloom on every twig,
She holds her head with dainty pride,
Waiting for the errant wind,
Who comes to claim her for his bride.
82 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
OH, WHAT A DAY!
RUTH VIRGINIA GIBSON
Gray day, gray skies,
Winds that whistle and screech;
Black waves, green waves,
Sweeping over the beach.
Calling wildly,
Birds fly swiftly away;
Far, near, all drear,
Oh, what a day ! What a day !
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 83
What does the young corn know
But to exist and grow?
Its glad, green arms stretched mutely up to God;
Firmly implanted in the clean, moist earth
Which gave it birth,
It lives a life of thankfulness, each row
Loving its root-run clod.
What does the peach tree know
But to exist and grow?
For April's beauty fades in autumn time;
Yet in each homely branch there breathes and lives
The glow it gives when blossoms blow.
It is His gift unseeing man is slow
To follow the sublime.
84 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
SHRINE
HELEN IDA MORROW
A candle was shaped for a shrine by a child,
New to the ways of worshipers.
She molded the wax in her hands, and smiled
At the prayer she would pray,
At the chant she would say,
At the flowers she would lay
On the altar.
A god wandering past said, "Fire you have none;
Let me blow on your candle and give it a flame ;
You must have fire though your gods be of stone."
So he gave her a fire
That trembled higher,
And smiled at the wistfulness of her desire
Lest it falter.
She saw the slow smile as it dreamed on his face,
Ere he stepped to the throne by the shrine she had
hewn.
His shrine and his flowers,
His sun and his showers,
Even the days and the hours
His.
She stumbled, half-sleeping, toward the shrine,
And her candle she put at his feet.
"The candle and shrine and chant are thine,
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 85
The candle I made;
The chant I prayed;
You lit the flame on the candle," she said.
Did he hear? Did he see? Ah, who knows?
Was she woman or child?
I believe he arose, half-startled to see
Such a gypsy there,
Scarlet leaves in her hair
Was it Eden and angel and sword to dare?
"I have candles enough on my shrines," said he;
"Keep that warm in your heart for me."
.And smiled.
86 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSL
FRIEND
HARVEY NORMAN RINGEL
You take me from the shadowy lanQ
And show to me the glorious sun.
Which tries to hide itself in vain
Among the clouds so silvery spun.
Lovely pictures, too, you paint
Of the future yet to be,
And then the hosts of heavenly saints
Lend all their earthly aid to thee.
And when to you I tell my heart,
You seem to live my sorrow, too
As if it were a secret part
Of the heart God gave to yoi
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
A BUSY CORNER
RUSSELL EDWARD McMuRRAY
A bustling crowd, a noisy street, >
A street car's clang and shuffling feet,
Policeman's whistle, newsies' cries,
A muddled noise that seldom dies,
The autos' horns, the motors' hum,
And street cars clattering as they come,
All jumble till one noise is heard,
And this is summed up in one word
Confusion.
87
88 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
MELANCHOLY
LAWRENCE WILLARD COCKRELL
Violets demure and butter-cups sweet,
Bright new leaves and grasses springing,
Breezes warm, their promise bringing,
Came my mournful face to greet
I did not see.
Daffodils gayly dancing after
Winds have gently kissed their heads,
Daisies, smiling from their beds,
Speak of joy, of love, of laughter
But not to me.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 89
SPRING
ALSACE MOINE CROSBIE
Spring calls from over the hills;
She has come.
In the woods her soft voice rises;
She has come.
In my garden
So recently covered with snow,
Wee flowers in delicate robes arise
And peep from under their sheltering green.
In the warm, brown earth,
Grey, ugly bulbs expand and burst,
And, pushing their pale shoots upward,
Break forth from their winter home
And appear in my garden.
90 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
THE CLIFF
ALICE LOVERIDGE
It was God's resting place in this great universe.
At high noon
Could be heard the soft twitterings
Of the birds,
The peaceful rustle of the leaves,
And the ever-restful wash, wash of the waters.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 91
MOONRISE ON A MISTY EVENING
t
THELMA LORRAINE CROSBIE
A great orange lantern
Rising,
Hanging,
Glowing in a blue-grey sky.
Soft, pale-yellow mist
Veiling,
Enfolding,
Caressing the gleaming ball.
92 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
BLOSSOM-SHRINE
CAMILLE MAHANNAH
Crazy Jim walks past my door
Every day at a quarter to four;
I wonder what in the world he sees
As he gazes up at my apple trees.
Just now when they are in blossoms dressed
And robins and orioles have found a nest,
And on every cluster's delicate pink
Pauses a homing bee to drink,
Old Jim stretches forth his arms so wide
As if to gather that beauty inside.
Perhaps up in the branches there,
Smiles down a dryad wondrous fair,
For Jim's bent hat with its battered straw
Is doffed in reverential awe,
And his dim eyes glow with a holy light
As if Diana greeted his sight.
Crazy Jim walks past my door
Every day at a quarter to four;
I wonder what in the world he sees
As he gazes up at my apple trees.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 93
INDIAN WOMEN
DOROTHY CROWDER
From the native village come the Indian women,
Bringing their basket^ to sell to the townspeople;
Three of them are coming slowly up the street,
Each bearing a basket on her head and a child in
her arms;
Their gaudy pink and red skirts drag on the dusty
ground,
And around their heads are rusty, mournful black
scarfs.
They are tired, and sit on a curbstone, resting and
nursing their babies,
Shielding them with their scarfs from the glances
of passers-by;
A customer approaches; they haggle over prices,
But finally the basket is sold, and they go on their
way, stolidly,
Talking among themselves in strange, guttural tones.
94 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
FROM THE DESERT
DOROTHY CROWDER
On the corner stands a lone cactus;
Its fellows are far away in the desert.
It, too, was once of the desert,
But a town sprang up around it, destroying its
kindred.
It bristles now in its armor, defying man to touch it,
And turns its proud gaze to the mountains,
Defiant, alone.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 95
FRIENDS
FROM AN ARIZONA EASEL
DOROTHY CROWDER
i
I have some rugged mountain friends.
I could watch forever their restless shadows and
colors;
Sometimes they are bleak, forbidding,
Their peaks looking coldly toward the sky.
Sometimes they withdraw and shroud themselves
with a veil of mist,
Later emerging, their heads covered with snow.
But I love them most at sunset,
When they are aflame with gorgeous color
Then they are friendly, and seem to wish me well.
96 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
LAKE EVENING
HOLLAND DEWITTE ROBERTS
Little waves are lapping all along the shore,
Whispering together, tapping at the door;
In and out the moonbeams patter golden bright,
Weaving webs of shadow from the woof of night.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 97
REQUIEM
HOLLAND DEWITTE ROBERTS
Last night I dreamed of flowers,
Great bunches of pinks and roses,
And you among them, shaking them in showers
Over me as I lay sleeping in the sun.
Now I wander like a lonely ghost,
Feeling the emptiness of dreams
When they are done.
98 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
A MID-SUMMER BONNET
MARY ROBINSON GIBSON
Oh, what a love of a mid-summer bonnet !
See the adorable fripperies on it!
Misty with lace and with crepe de chine shirring,
Feelings of longing in maiden hearts stirring.
See the deep pink in the rose petals glowing,
Just a wee bit underneath the brim showing.
Light as a fancy of fairy creation,
Wearing it causes a thrill of elation.
"Isn't it dear?" echo girl voices gladly,
Searching each purse for the price of it, madly.
"Isn't it dear?" asks the one who will wear it;
"Terribly dear!" yes, her father will swear it.
Just for some lace with a few roses on it
Ah, but it's such an adorable bonnet!
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES
AUTHORS REPRESENTED IN THIS BOOK
HASKEL READY ARMSTRONG.
Born in Salt Lake City, Utah, in 1891. Lived in Peoria
since 1901. Eight years in newspaper work in news and
editorial departments. Manager of a life insurance agency in
1922. Founder and first president of Lions Club of Peoria.
ELLA BESEMAN.
Born in Dresden in 1861. Lived in Peoria since 1862.
Teacher and principal of a public school. President of
Peoria Teachers' Club, 1906-1907. President of School
Mistresses Club of Illinois, 1907-1908.
LIESEL BEWSHER.
Born in Peoria, 1894. Kindergarten teacher, Peoria.
JOSEPH ROWE BINFORD, JR.
Born in Bolton, Texas, 1896. In Peoria since 1910. Student.
WILLIAM ALEXANDER BONE (BILL BONE)
Born in Petersburg, 111., 1869. Lived in Peoria since
1912. Lecturer and entertainer. Author of 'Tiuixt Twilight
and Dafwn (poems) and House of Man (prose and poety a
lecture). In lyceum and Chautauqua work for eighteen years.
EUGENE DE' AGUERO BROWN (GENE BROWN)
Born in Elmwood, 111., 1875. In Peoria since 1876. Busi-
ness, real estate sub-divisions. Author of Thanksgiving and
Other Rhymes, Life Pictures and Other Thoughts, Rhymes
'Round Home, and Little Brown Book. Has been president
of Aircraft Club, Auto Trails Association, Good Roads Asso-
ciation, and Illinois Valley Protective Association.
99
100 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
ROBERT J. BURDETTE
Born in Greensboro, Pa., 1844; died in Pasadena, Calif.,
1914. Removed to Peoria in boyhood. Newspaper writer in
Peoria. Later, editor of Burlington, la., Hanukeye, on which he
made his reputation as a humorist. Afterwards on Brooklyn
Eagle. Began lecturing in 1876. Became licensed minister
of the Baptist Church in 1887. Ordained and became pastor
of Temple Baptist Church, Los Angeles, Calif., in 1903 ; made
pastor emeritus, 1909. Author of Hawkeyetems, Rise and Fall
of the Moustache, Sumach Garden, Life of William Penn,
Sons of Asaph, Smiles Yoked with Sighs, Chimes from a
Jester's Bells, Drums of the 47th, and others.
ANN CALENDAR BURDICK (MRS. CHARLES S.)
Born in Peoria, 1875; died, 1914. Author of Thoughts
in Verse. Contributor to several magazines of national
circulation.
JULIA KEMPSHALL CLARK (MRS. ANDREW G.)
Born in Rochester, N. Y., in the 40's. In Peoria since
1900. Author of Out of the Ruts. Contributor to religious
and other magazines and newspapers. Traveller, art student,
and club lecturer. Founder of Inter-Church League, Peoria,
and president for ten years. Founder of As You Like it
Club, Peoria.
LAWRENCE WILLARD COCKRELL.
Born in Harper, Kansas, 1900. In Peoria since 1917. Stu-
dent in Peoria High School and assistant in Peoria Public
Library.
ALSACE MIONE CROSBIE.
Born at Grand Rapids, Mich., 1905. In Peoria since 1914.
Student in theological course, Tufts College, Mass.
THELMA LORRAINE CROSBIE.
Born in Joliet, 111., 1903. In Peoria since 1914. Student,
Peoria High School. Winner of Rice Memorial essay prize on
"City Improvements" in 1920 and Woman's Relief Corps
essay prize on "Patriotism" in 1917.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 101
DOROTHY CROWDER.
Born in Peoria, 1898. Teacher of English, Peoria High
School, 1919-21. Doctor's assistant, 1922. Wrote senior class
play at Bradley Polytechnic Institute, 1917.
ELIZABETH WORTHINGTON DENISON.
Born at Woodstock, Vt., 1836; died, 1920. Resident of
Peoria at different periods from 1856 to 1896. Teacher in
public schools. Principal of Pettingill Seminary, Peoria.
Author of a book, Lucy's Way Out of the Dark, also poems,
essays, and short stories. Charter member of Peoria Women's
Club and of the Memorial Day Association.
GEORGE HELGESEN FITCH.
Born at Galva, 111., 1877; died 1915. Lived in Peoria,
1905-1915. Editor, Peoria Transcript, 1905-1913. Author of
At Good Old Siiuash, Homeburg Memories, These United
States, My Demon Motor Boat, and stories published in The
Saturday Evening Post, Collier's, American Magazine, and
others. Member of Illinois General Assembly, 1913-1915.
Was President of American Press Humorists' Association.
CLAUDE HOLLAND GAMBLE (Cm GAMBLE)
Born at Woodhull, 111., 1886. In Peoria since 1915. Editor
of Galva News, 1909-1915. Successively reporter, managing
editor, and editor The Peoria Journal, 1915-1922. Since July
1922, editorial writer, Peoria Evening Star. Contributor to
Judge. Member of American Press Humorists' Association.
MARY ROBINSON GIBSON.
Born in Peoria, 1870. Teacher in public schools, 1859-1901.
Soprano soloist in Peoria churches, 1892-1901. Secretary, West
End Literary Club. Author of verses published in local news-
papers.
PHILIP LEIGH GIBSON.
Born in Peoria, 1902. Newspaper reporter, and then assist-
ant publicity manager for the Illinois Traction System. Con-
tributor to local newspapers and several magazines. Chair-
man of Publicity Committee, Peoria Advertising and Selling
Club.
102 PEORIA BOOK OF VEKSE
RUTH VIRGINIA GIBSON.
Born in Peoria, 1904. In Circulation Department, Peoria
Journal-Transcript. Literary editor of The Manual during
part of high school course.
KATHARINE HART.
Born in New York City, 1854. Resident of Peoria since
1879. Music teacher. Writer of Children's stories, poems
and miscellaneous magazine articles. Founder of Amateur
Musical Club. Director of Student Department of Amateur
Musical Club for eleven years.
ROBERT GREEN INGERSOLL.
Born in Dresden, N. Y., 1833; died at Dobb's Ferry, N. Y.,
1899. Spent childhood in Wisconsin, and after 1843 in Illi-
nois. Practiced law in Shawneetown, 111. Removed to Peoria
in 1860. Colonel of Illinois cavalry in 1862. Appointed
attorney general of Illinois in 1866. Attained national fame
as an orator in a nominating speech in favor of James G.
Elaine in 1876. Famous as a lecturer and writer against the
Christian religion. Author of Gods, Ghosts, Some Mistakes
of Moses, Prose Poems, etc.
JULIA HARRIETTE JOHNSTON.
Born in Salineville, Ohio, 1849; died in Peoria, 1919.
Resident in Peoria, 1859-1919. Writer of religious books,
notes on Sunday School lessons and hymns. Author of School
of the Master, Bright Threads, Life of Adoniram Judson,
Who Was It?, Fifty Missionary Heroes, Our Spanish and
Indian Neighbors, and Benedictions of the Bible. For twenty
years president of the Woman's Presbyterial Society of Peoria
Presbytery. Vice-President Presbyterian Board of Missions of
the Northwest.
WILLIAM JAMES LEACH (REVEREND)
Born in Callingwood, Ontario, Canada, 1875 ; died in
Peoria, 1922. Lived in and near Peoria, 1899-1922. Minister
and student; later, minister and newspaper writer. First
student in Bradley Polytechnic Institute to win prize in an
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 103
oratorical contest at University of Chicago. Served in Fifth
Illinois Infantry during Spanish-American War. During
the World War served with the Y. M. C. A. at Camp Pike
and then six months in France with the Second Division,
U. S. A. Pastor of Methodist churches in Morton, Pekin,
Averyville, and El Paso, 111. Author of Poems and War
Letters.
CAMILLE MAHANNAH.
Born in Peoria, 1897. Teacher of English in Manual Train-
ing High School. Author of a number of short stories and
poems. President of Bradley Polytechnic Institute English
Club, 1921-22. Winner of Bradley Institute short story con-
test, 1917 and 1918.
FRANCES NANCY MARTIN.
Born in Peoria, 1868. Musician and writer, especially of
children's stories.
W. KEE MAXWELL.
Born at Bardolph, 111., 1879. Lived in Peoria for six years.
Editor of Peoria Transcript and The Peoria Journal. Left
Peoria to become editor of The Akron Times, Akron, Ohio.
Writer of stories for magazines of which his best known
are The Yellow Peril in The American Magazine and The
Baseball Mascot in Collier's. An officer in the American
Press Humorists' Association.
RUSSELL EDWARD McMuRRY.
Born in Peoria, 1905. Student in Peoria High School.
Writer of verses for local newspapers. Circulation manager
of the High School Opinion, 1921-22.
HELEN IDA MORROW.
Born in Eureka, 111., 1899. Lived in Peoria one year,
writing for local newspapers. Returned to Eureka College.
Her poem "Rain at Night," published in a book, American
Verse. Miss Morrow made the original suggestion that led
to the very successful Festival of Poetry held at Eureka in
1921. She was secretary of the Festival Association.
104 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
JOHN J. O'KEEFE.
Born in Ireland, 1855. Lived in Peoria since 1872. Has
been an engineer and fireman, and later a special night watch-
man for certain homes on Moss Ave. His poems have been
published in newspapers in New York, Chicago, and San
Francisco, as well as Peoria.
ERNEST A. PASQUAY.
Born in Brooklyn N. Y., 1861. Lived in Peoria since 1876.
Engaged in the wholesale grocery business.
SAMUEL PATTERSON PROWSE.
Born in Greenock, Scotland, 1856; died in Peoria, 1921.
Resident of Peoria since 1894. Telegraph editor, Peoria Eve-
ning Star; then Collector of U. S. Customs in Peoria; and
finally, for several years, librarian, Peoria Public Library.
A popular speaker and local writer.
HARVEY NORMAN RINGEL.
Born in Peoria, 1903. Student, Peoria High School.
HOLLAND DEWITTE ROBERTS.
Born in Springfield, Nebraska, 1895. In Peoria 1899-1916.
While in Peoria, a student in Bradley Polytechnic Institute.
Later, student at University of Chicago, then in the Army, and
now principal of the high school at Arlington Heights, Illinois.
Contributor of stories to several magazines. Literary editor
of Les Soldats, an A. E. F. magazine in Dijon, France, dur-
ing the World War.
MARK LANGDON ROWELL.
Born in Winona, Minn., 1890. In Peoria, 1913-1916, as
a student and assistant instructor in Bradley Polytechnic In-
stitute. Winner of George Fitch Memorial Medal for poetry,
1916. Teacher, and mechanical and electrical engineer since
leaving Peoria.
FLORENCE JEFFERS SHEARER (MRS.)
Born in Henderson, N. Y., 1861. In Peoria since 1920.
Contributor of verses to newspapers.
PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE 105
ARTHUR GALUSHA SMITH (DR.)
Born in Morris, Illinois, 1871. In Peoria since 1881.
Dentist. Secretary of Illinois Dental Society and editor of
its Bulletin. When member of School Board, helped start
dental clinic in public schools. Writer on both scientific and
literary subjects. Reader, singer, actor. One of the moving
spirits in organizing the Peoria Players.
BESSIE CURRAN SMITH (MRS. ARTHUR G.)
Born in Delavan, 111., 1877. In Peoria since 1897. Mu-
sician. Has been secretary of Peoria Players and of the
Amateur Musical Club. Member of Board of Directors of
Women's Club, and of the State Art Extension Committee.
ELLEN GALUSHA SMITH (MRS. WILLIAM HAWLEY)
Born in Lisbon, 111., 1849; died in 1922. In Peoria from
1881 to 1922. Painter. For many years an officer in the
Peoria Art League. Charter member of Peoria Women's
Club. Writer of essays on philosophical and theosophical
subjects.
WILLIAM HAWLEY SMITH.
Born in Sunderland, Massachusetts, 1845 ; died in 1922.
In Peoria, 1881-1922. Newspaper editor and publisher, manu-
facturer, author, lecturer, sociologist, and always a teacher.
Author of Promoters, Walks and Talks, and Children by
Chance or by Choice; also two notable books on education :
Evolution of Dodd and All the Children of All the People.
One of the foremost platform speakers of his time. Traveled
with Bill Nye one season, 1891-1893.
JOHN LANCASTER SPALDING (MOST REVEREND)
Born in Lebanon, Ky., 1840; died in Peoria in 1916.
Chancellor of Diocese of Louisville, 1871. Consecrated Bishop
of Peoria in 1877. Created titular Archbishop in 1909.
Author of Essays on Religion and Art, Essays and Reviews,
The Religious Mission of the Irish People, Education and the
Higher Life, Things of the Mind, Thoughts and Theories of
Life and Education, Opportunity and Other Essays, Religion,
106 PEORIA BOOK OF VERSE
Agnosticism and Education, Socialism and Labor and Other
Arguments, America and Other Poems, The Poet's Praise,
Songs, chiefly from the German, and Life of Archbishop
Spalding.
J. MERLE STEVENS (REVEREND)
Born in Mount Vernon, Iowa, 1868. In Peoria since 1907.
Pastor of Union Congregational Church. Lecturer on the
Chautauqua platform. Writer of poems for magazines. Au-
thor of Shakespeare as a Religious Teacher. President of
Allied English Interests of Peoria, 1922.
JOSEPHINE BOWMAN WETZLER (MRS. T. E.)
Born in Peoria, 1895. Contributor to local newspapers and
other periodicals.
JULIA PROCTOR WHITE (MRS. CHARLES F.)
Born in Peoria, 1875. Resident of Peoria, 1875-1891 and
since 1900. Always active in the interests of art and better
community life. Musician and composer; play actor and
writer of plays for children; director of the Recreational
Art Studio of Peoria; one of the founders of the Peoria
Players and of the Peoria Society of Allied Arts. Has been
president of the Peoria Women's Club, an officer in the Free
Kindergarten Association, and was one of the founders of the
Women's Civic Federation.
UNIVERSITY OF IULINOI9-URBANA
30112041724276
