Poems Teachers Ask For Volume I Part 19

Jane Jones

Jane Jones keeps talkin' to me all the time, An' says you must make it a rule To study your lessons 'nd work hard 'nd learn, An' never be absent from school.

Remember the story of Elihu Burritt, An' how he clum up to the top, Got all the knowledge 'at he ever had Down in a blacksmithing shop?

Jane Jones she honestly said it was so!

Mebbe he did-- I dunno!

O' course what's a-keepin' me 'way from the top, Is not never havin' no blacksmithing shop.

She said 'at Ben Franklin was awfully poor, But full of ambition an' brains; An' studied philosophy all his hull life, An' see what he got for his pains!

He brought electricity out of the sky, With a kite an' a bottle an' key, An' we're owing him more'n any one else For all the bright lights 'at we see.

Jane Jones she honestly said it was so!

Mebbe he did-- I dunno!

O' course what's allers been hinderin' me Is not havin' any kite, lightning er key.

Jane Jones said Abe Lincoln had no books at all, An' used to split rails when a boy; An' General Grant was a tanner by trade An' lived 'way out in Illinois.

So when the great war in the South first broke out He stood on the side o' the right, An' when Lincoln called him to take charge o' things, He won nearly every blamed fight.

Jane Jones she honestly said it was so!

Mebbe he did-- I dunno!

Still I ain't to blame, not by a big sight, For I ain't never had any battles to fight.

She said 'at Columbus was out at the knees When he first thought up his big scheme, An' told all the Spaniards 'nd Italians, too, An' all of 'em said 'twas a dream.

But Queen Isabella jest listened to him, 'Nd p.a.w.ned all her jewels o' worth, 'Nd bought him the Santa Maria 'nd said, "Go hunt up the rest o' the earth!"

Mebbe he did-- I dunno!

O' course that may be, but then you must allow They ain't no land to discover jest now!

_Ben King._

The Leap of Roushan Beg

Mounted on Kyrat strong and fleet, His chestnut steed with four white feet, Roushan Beg, called Kurroglou, Son of the road and bandit chief, Seeking refuge and relief, Up the mountain pathway flew.

Such was Kyrat's wondrous speed, Never yet could any steed Reach the dust-cloud in his course.

More than maiden, more than wife, More than gold and next to life Roushan the Robber loved his horse.

In the land that lies beyond Erzeroum and Trebizond, Garden-girt his fortress stood; Plundered khan, or caravan Journeying north from Koordistan, Gave him wealth and wine and food.

Seven hundred and fourscore Men at arms his livery wore, Did his bidding night and day, Now, through regions all unknown, He was wandering, lost, alone, Seeking without guide his way.

Suddenly the pathway ends, Sheer the precipice descends, Loud the torrent roars unseen; Thirty feet from side to side Yawns the chasm; on air must ride He who crosses this ravine,

Following close in his pursuit, At the precipice's foot Reyhan the Arab of Orfah Halted with his hundred men, Shouting upward from the glen, "La Illah illa Allah!"

Gently Roushan Beg caressed Kyrat's forehead, neck, and breast, Kissed him upon both his eyes; Sang to him in his wild way, As upon the topmost spray Sings a bird before it flies.

"O my Kyrat, O my steed, Round and slender as a reed, Carry me this peril through!

Satin housings shall be thine, Shoes of gold, O Kyrat mine, O thou soul of Kurroglou!

"Soft thy skin as silken skein, Soft as woman's hair thy mane, Tender are thine eyes and true; All thy hoofs like ivory s.h.i.+ne, Polished bright; O life of mine, Leap, and rescue Kurroglou!"

Kyrat, then, the strong and fleet, Drew together his four white feet, Paused a moment on the verge, Measured with his eye the s.p.a.ce, And into the air's embrace Leaped, as leaps the ocean surge.

As the ocean surge o'er sand Bears a swimmer safe to land, Kyrat safe his rider bore; Rattling down the deep abyss, Fragments of the precipice Rolled like pebbles on a sh.o.r.e.

Roushan's ta.s.seled cap of red Trembled not upon his head, Careless sat he and upright; Neither hand nor bridle shook, Nor his head he turned to look, As he galloped out of sight.

Flash of harness in the air, Seen a moment like the glare Of a sword drawn from its sheath; Thus the phantom horseman pa.s.sed, And the shadow that he cast Leaped the cataract underneath.

Reyhan the Arab held his breath While this vision of life and death Pa.s.sed above him. "Allahu!"

Cried he. "In all Koordistan Lives there not so brave a man As this Robber Kurroglou!"

_Henry W. Longfellow._

Old Ironsides

Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!

Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar;-- The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more!

Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood, And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee;-- The harpies of the sh.o.r.e shall pluck The eagle of the sea!

Oh, better that her shattered hulk Should sink beneath the wave!

Her thunders shook the mighty deep, And there should be her grave; Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the G.o.d of storms, The lightning and the gale!

_Oliver Wendell Holmes._

A Psalm of Life

Tell me not, in mournful numbers, "Life is but an empty dream!"

For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal; "Dust thou art, to dust returnest,"

Was not spoken of the soul.