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Show TO THE SEGO LILY. Tho following poem, tastefully arranged ar-ranged in booklet form, with a delicately deli-cately painted sego lily was presented to Brother Wm. T. Morris by his son Will T. Morris, ns a Christmas present. pres-ent. It was suggested to the writer while on the desert near Panaca, Nevada, Ne-vada, upon discovering a single sego Illy near an ancient fosil, which ho had been thoughtfully observing. The poem, po-em, painting and decorations Were all done by Bro. Morris' eldest son, and the present Is valued very highly by tho father: Tis a desert land they call it, Oraped in all pervading grief, 'Midst the desert thorn and briar, Nlear a sterile bluff of clay. Courted by the sombre lizard, Gladdened by tho ghastly smile Of a friendly group of bones, that Offers friendship, desert style. Years and centuries here are jested, Father Time draws back tho veil, And we stand in silent converse Of Lahonton's, an ancient tale. There some prehistoric geyser In Its feverish, playful mood, Filled some ancient submerged valley Then in antiquo solitude. Ah! how prone tho human fancy, When environment inspires, Is to penetrate tho ages With a zest that never tires; 'loping there is some cold fosil, Speechless, namelesB, mystery born, To solve that problem so colossal, Vhy tho world and whence its charm? s I stood, my mind projecting Into the unexplored retreat, I, like many, was neglecting What was lying at my feot. Near tho "spot .where I was standing, Redolent, bathed with morning dew, With floral grace, its smilo extending, A single sego Illy grew. It seemed just like some long-lost comrade Coming from the hazy shore Of the past, where I'd been wandering wander-ing In the moments just before. Like some blessed benediction, In tho flower I could sco What, in my remote reflection, Seemed so much to puzzle me. Vs its brocsy perfume reached me, Vnd its modest tints and shades cll upon my thirsted senses jike tho breath of forest glades; In my heart was born a feeling That enriches life to mo, Mature graciously roveallng What I wanted most to see. lore's tho story that It told me, Vs I held it in my hand; Turning solitude to Bunshino In that lonely desert land. "From the elements around me, Through the ages dead and gone, I'vo been choosing and rejecting From tho things that came along." "Through tho life that's self-existent, I've been choosing day by day Only what would make for beauty, Casting dross and waste away. Take me, I am here for service; On what I am you may depend. With tho dross eliminated, I can reach a glorious end." In a vase that stands before mo I can see tho flower now, It will wither, dio and perish Disappear, I know not how. But tho truth that it has taught mo Is the thing I highly prize What was grown In gross material, My soul has captured through my eyes. Ah! how Hko this lovely flower Is tho path of you and me, Ever choosing or rejecting What to bo or not to be. When we're plucked by Him above us, Asked to tell our story here, With full-blown soul that makes friends lovo us, Repeat with prido thoeo words sincere. "From tho elements around me, Through the ages dead and gone, I've been choosing and rejecting, From tho things that como along. Through the lifo that's self-oxlatent, I've been choosing day by day Only what would mako for buty, Caetjng drosB and waste away. Take me, I have stood for service, True to self and earthly friend. With tho drosB eliminated, Let mo reach somo glorious end." |
