The poetical works of Edwin Oscar Gale . E BY STROKE Motto of the Oak Park High School Class of by stroke, the legends run:In golden rhyme the oars they bind:The High School class of Ninety-oneLifes open gates before them ! girls and boys of lofty aims,Who stroke by stroke have made your way,With laurel leaves wed wreathe your while we grasp your hands to-dayWe trust the motto of your classMay be through life your battle cry;And man and dame, now youth and wear the crown of victory. Twas stroke by stroke of heavy oar, With face the while towards happy h
The poetical works of Edwin Oscar Gale . E BY STROKE Motto of the Oak Park High School Class of by stroke, the legends run:In golden rhyme the oars they bind:The High School class of Ninety-oneLifes open gates before them ! girls and boys of lofty aims,Who stroke by stroke have made your way,With laurel leaves wed wreathe your while we grasp your hands to-dayWe trust the motto of your classMay be through life your battle cry;And man and dame, now youth and wear the crown of victory. Twas stroke by stroke of heavy oar, With face the while towards happy homes, You pulled for learnings distant shore Through dreary wastes of musty tomes. Though far at times the journey seemed. And but the outline of the coast Of that fair land of which you dreamed Is all you see as yet, at most. Still years in earnest study spent. Your steady pulling at the oar. Your mind in one direction bent Has schooled you and prepared you for Still greater toil you must go through If you would profit by the past, 238. 3 V p -~zn ? If you the shore youre coming to Would yet possess, would gain at last. Your labor is not ended yet. Though near the shore, far inland lies The gem on which your heart is set. You yet must toil to win the prize. Lifes earnest journey just begins When backs are turned on school house door, And he alone in lifes race wins Who stroke by stroke pulls at the oar. Where long had Hoosacs rocks defied The skill of man to penetrate, Now iron horse doth smoothly glide As coachman drives through open gate— And commerce draws its iron thread Through eye where titans granite hurled. Twas stroke by stroke, then straight ahead The pulse beat of the business world Was felt beneath the rocky dome Where sun and stars shed not a ray, But Vulcan in his smoky home Nights fetters fastened on the day. With stroke by stroke the pioneer Assailed the forests of the east. Long sang his keen ax, loud and clear, Ere came his children to the feast In round up
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookidpoeticalwork, bookyear1906
