[A song of the Oregon Trail. Dedicated to Ezra Meeker, Pioneer.]
A song for the men who blazed the way! With hearts that would not quail; They made brave quest of the wild Northwest, They cut the Oregon trail.
Back of them beckoned their kith and kin And all that they held their own; Front of them spread the wilderness dread, And ever the vast unknown.
But ever they kept their forward course! And never they thought to lag, For over them flew the Red, White and Blue And the dream of a star for the flag!
A cheer for the men who cut the trail! With souls as firm as steel And fiery as wrath they hewed the path For the coming Commonweal.
And close on the heels of the pioneers The eager throng closed in And followed the road to a far abode. An Empire new to win.
And so they wrought at the end of the trail, As ever must brave men do, Till out of the dark there gleamed a spark, And the dream of the star came true.
A toast to the men who made the road! And a health to the men who dwell In the great new land by the heroes planned, Who have builded it wide and well!
The temple stands where the pine tree stood, And dim is the ancient trail, But many and wide are the roads that guide And staunch are the ships that sail!
For the land is a grand and goodly land, And its fruitful fields are tilled By the sons who see on the flag of the free The dream of the star fulfilled!
[21] "Pioneer Reminiscences of Puget Sound," 600 pages, $3.00. Address Ezra Meeker, 1201 38th Ave. N., Seattle, Wash.
The ox is passing; in fact, has passed. Like the old-time spinning-wheel and the hand loom, that are only to be seen as mementos of the past, or the quaint old cobbler's bench with its hand-made lasts and shoe pegs, or the heavy iron bubbling mush pots on the crane in the chimney corner; like the fast vanishing of the old-time men and women of sixty years or more ago—all are passing, to be laid aside for the new ways, and the new actors on the scenes of life. While these ways and these scenes and these actors have had their day, yet their experiences and the lesson taught are not lost to the world, although at times almost forgotten.
The difference between a civilized and an untutored people lies in the application of these experiences; while the one builds upon the foundations of the past, which engenders hope and ambition for the future, the other has no past, nor aspirations for the future. As reverence for the past dies out in the breasts of a generation, so likewise patriotism wanes. In the measure that the love of the history of the past dies, so likewise do the higher aspirations for the future. To keep the flame of patriotism alive we must keep the memory of the past vividly in mind.