Musk — Poetry — Fiction 



And yet, O Thunderer, what art thou 1898 



To Him with iridescent brow, Johnson 



Who guides thy grand retreating prow, 

 The whispers of His might; 



And notches on these walls of stone 

 His hieroglyphics, yet thine own, 

 To make thy soundless ages known. 



Through glyptic monographs. 



Who wrote his name, " The Unseen God," 

 In burning letters, fiery shod, 

 On Terrapin Tower, once trod 

 By bold adventurers; 



When lo! 'twas hurled from heaven to hell, 

 The tottering, grand old sentinel, 

 Where oft I went to view the well, 

 Above thy plunging floods. 



God gave thee queenly sisters three, 

 Faith, Hope and glorious Charity, 

 And placed the Iris Isle to be 



A brooch to pin thy veil. 



He sent the morn with rustling wings, 

 And filled the vales with babbling springs, 

 And gave the birds their color'd wings 

 And sweetly charming notes, 



To praise thy cascades most sublime, 

 Thro' every land, thro' every clime, 

 Whose opalescent rainbows shine 



To prove his promise true. 

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