266 PUBLIC PARKS OF IOWA 



from our rivers and thus conserve the health of the people, if they would 

 retain the confidence and respect of an enlightened community. 



Let there be no cessation in our work until the water in these rivers is 

 as pure as when it left the clouds from whence it came; until these 

 denuded hills are reforested with trees of economic value and given 

 as much care as an annual farm crop; until our shallow lakes are 

 dredged and the low marshy ground adjoining ^them is raised and 

 planted with trees for the benefit of the generations that are to follow 

 us. 



In closing let me cast a ray of sunshine down the vista of years on 

 that pioneer with his ox team. Behold, they have changed. Where that 

 ox team trailed through the long tangled grass an auto speeds along 

 roads at a greater rate than a railway train of half a century ago. The 

 rough, bony cattle and hogs long, lean and strong of leg that were 

 driven 10 to 40 miles on foot to market have given place to high-grade 

 animals with velvety hides, and hogs that tip the scales at 300 pounds in 

 less than nine months that are rushed to the shambles in an auto truck. 

 The shanty and sod house have changed to mansions surrounded by 

 groves, with shrubs and flowers and all that the decorated art of the 

 landscape gardener can give to make them more beautiful than other 

 estates beneath the shining sun. 



Great indeed has been the transformation in the last three score years 

 and ten. I have lived to see the plough turn the prairie sod from the 

 Mississippi to the Missouri river; most of its native flora and fauna dis- 

 appear, but to my eyes these undulating hills covered with velvety blue 

 grass and herds of high-grade cattle have more pastoral beauty than 

 prairie glens with their fringe of golden rods and sunflowers and herds 

 of buffalo. 



"Clasp, Angel of the backward look 

 And, folded wings of ashen gray 

 And voice of echoes far away, 

 The brazen covers of thy book; 

 Even while I look, I can but heed 

 The restless sands' incessant fall, 

 Importunate hours that hours succeed, 

 Each clamorous of its own sharp need, 

 And duty keeping pace with all. 

 Shut down and clasp the heavy lids; 

 I hear again the voice that bids 

 The dreamer leave his dream midway 

 For larger hopes and graver fears; 

 Life greatens in these later years, 

 The country's aloe flowers today!" 



