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About The Hesperian / (Lincoln, Neb.) 1885-1899 | View Entire Issue (March 3, 1896)
12 THE HESPERIAN Blxby's Retrat. If you would be chock full of the divine afflatus, read ''Driftwood," "Songs of Summer," and "Dust from Chariot Wheels." w If I could make my jaws vibrate, Like those of Jonas Lien, I'd rent myself to a woman's 'club For a patent talk machine. I sit an hour and think and swear And madly rave and tear my hair, And laugh and cry and chew andsmdke To igrind out one insipid joke. At; REVOIR. It makes my wild poetic heart Leap like a startled deer To think my poet friend would start East and forsake me here. 'Tis sad I know, but you must go Where more luxuriant pastures grow. I've read youv poems, held spell-bound, I've read them o'er and o'er again; HJut I confess I haven't found The underlying heavenly strain. 'Tis not because it is not there, I just can't get it through my hair. The "Songs of Summer" we don't read, And Gortner writes on heaven above. Our TBixby's wit has gone to seed, You only sing sweet strains of love. I 'fear that Reed Dunroy and I Alone must grind the spring supply. No more your chirographic red Will ornament my daily themes, iBlythe hours with thee, so quickly sped, Have passed in hieroglyphic dreams. Forgive, forget; I'm not surprised At themes in diamond dye baptized. So as you go, a fond farewell, A, parting kiss, a briny tear. OKI can ,you not remain a spell, Say, 'finish out -the present year? Weill muss yon lrom these western istates As Bureiascholars'callyou aworthycdlleague. w When this big land of mine shall wade In altruistic summers, There'll be no cut-throat gold bugs then, There'll be no bully frat men then Likewise no Coxey bummers. There'll be no barbs to fight 'em, And all the wrongs between the two No poor sore-head to right 'em. Then men of brains shall loan them out Or trade them for the labor At par no difference in price Of his thick headed neighbor, Like Goldsmith now I hear that time Come dc ,vn the future ringing The mountains shall break loose and 'hills Shall Avelcome it with singing. From "Songs of My Country," about to be pub lished by R. S. Baker. Dose girruls dose girruls dey poddered mine ipate Last veek ven dey garried dot Union slate, Dey galled me von side mit a vink of der eye Undtdold me derblan ouff der brogram, so sly Dey vould sing some undt blay some undt axed me py shings, Vould I vix oup dose gurtains undt some oder dings ? Vy, sure I vould done 't ven dey gone undt'ddlU me 'Dose dings vot dry dold no von else, don't ,you see? I vixed oup dose gurtains sehr gudt in der hall Yhile Searson undt Howard undt Mac shuct peat all, Dey garried dose shairs oup undt goaxed me undt plowed Undt dried vor doo got me doo dell vot 1 knowed Apout dot pig brogram dose girruls vas doo igif, 'But I dont vould do it so sure as dey hf. Undt ven ve hedt gotten dose gurtains undt shairs All vixed oup undt backed oup dose long vlights ouf stairs, 1 vas villin' doo pet all der shink in mine sheans Dot I vould pe shosen doo manage dose screens. You pet 1 velt vine ven I gotte dot pig note! Undt I dont puts no proses in dot von I rote! Toot ven dot sveet girll dot vas me doo go mit Says dot ve must gall vor von Shon Henry Smit I vas madter as plixen undt vonder'd vy she Vould took any oder galout long mit me. Ve gept goin east dill ve stopped out ouf iprea't At 'von dousand eight honder undt frozen 'doo deat." d eate ouf dot goffee undt trinks veeny-worst lUndill Idiriks sure as Shon ShonesI vouldipurst. From "The Union Girls" and other .poemslby John Peter Cameron.