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Show 4 ; j ; r : COLORADO NEWS : rf -f DENVER. Office of Intermountain Catholic, 409 Charles Block, 15th and Curtis Cur-tis Streets. Father Malone has returned from a trip to Salt Lake. He also called at several towns in western Colorado. Mr. J. J. Ilyan and family, who have been living temporarily with Father Malono during the illness of Mrs. Kyan's mother,' the late Mrs. Malone, will return to their own home on Down-ins Down-ins avenue in a few days. In future Father Malone will make his home with his lister at her Downing avenue residence, having closed his own home. On Monday evening last Father O'Ryan delivered an address at the folate conference of churches now in session in Pueblo. The Late Edward O'Flaherty. "When lift died I wrote that Edward O'Flahcity's death was a "calamity to the cause of Irish national freedom." It is. Few men of the Irish race in the Kepuhlic were better loved. Few men did more in all ways for the life-Jtrug- fclers from Ireland. Few gave more generously to every movement Irish or Catholic. It waa fitting that his funeral fu-neral shculd have been the largest in Zew Voik City since that of Colonel John, O'Mahcjf.y, the Fenian leader. The following verses express very inadequately in-adequately my sentiments on his pre-. pre-. mature demise. S. J. D. IN MEMORIAM. Edward O'Flaherty. Xay, name him not in the city's mnrt, wiih its puny fringe of fame. But k-eii him trop lor the open Sf'a. where the waves can cliant his name; For the meadows green and the glowing I jsliecn that speak to (loil on high, I And the birds can sing, in the budding S spring, his praise as they homeward ily. Ah, God. 'tis hard that you spake the word that is writ in the record page The word that smote our hearts in twain for comrade, friend and sage; 'Tis hard that deatli should strike lii.n down, and chill our world with pain. And still the gentle, kindly heart, unwept of sin or stain. For him we grieve in the haze and gloam, I that dim the tear-stormed eye, J For him we look in the gathered gloom I and see but his shadow nich: I And ihe caoine of our voices lollows to the end of his linal llipht: 1 Where the lamp of his life lies hroken, and its name is dead in the night. Winds blow you Foftly o'er his grave, and Through the dying years to our hearts again, if e'er they dare grow weak; On the hridee of our sorrow standing, where the mists of the morning rise, lie our faith as his. eternal, as his place beyond the skies. S. J. DOXLEAVY. Denver, Colo., March lit. WKK |