(Reprinted by request from the Automobile of June 1901. The owner of the picturesque and historic old windmill at Lawrence, Kas., declared a purpose of tearing it down. Prof. Carruth tried to raise money by subscription for the preservation of the old land mark, and this poem was written accordingly. Sufficient money was not raised to purchase the property, but the owner has refrained from demolishing it.) |
Through all the generations Have the children of K.U. Looked up to see the windmill's form Athwart the vaulted blue. The worms of forty years have gnawed Its weather-beaten crest; The storms of forty years have beat Against its dauntless breast. But storm, nor wind, nor hail, nor rain Its structure could subdue, For truth beheld its timbers hewn, And true men built it true. Survivor of a worthy age, Its day has long since passed; It mocks our weakness and our shame -- Let's hew it down at last. This is the cherished age of gain, The mill can grind no more; Heap up the fagots, bring the torch, And let the bonfire roar! What tho' we love its battered form, And yet shall love it still; What tho' we plighted love within The shadow of the mill. What tho' a few memories draw And bind it to my heart, We cannot cash these memories; Old friend, we'll have to part. But I had hoped that when you passed I might not need to know; That strangers' feet might tread the hill And strangers see you go. But no, the doom is spoken now, And O! it grieves me sore That I must linger where you stood And never see you more. |
-- C.L. Edson |
[the preceding]...was recently found in my grandmother's (Josephine Parrish)
notebook, which she kept for her English literature class at KU in the
spring of 1904.
|
Frank Job
Healdsburg, CA Monday, May 19, 1997 |