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Show SELECT "SONGS OF THE SOIL." LOS ANGELES, March 8. The Land Show Beautiful, which Anil be held In Los Angeles from March 12 to 26, has just closed a remarkable contest con-test to secure the best "song of the soil," by which the luro of the west will be immortalized in words and. music. Ge'neral Manager Phillip D.' Wilson on February 1 offered a $25 cash prize for the verses decided best by a committee of seven artistic authorities. au-thorities. Exactly 270 poems wero submitted within two weeks In competition com-petition for tho prize. The Judges, after many days of labor, la-bor, decided the contest a tlo between two "songs of the soil," which wero pronounced absolutely equal in merit-Accordingly, merit-Accordingly, the' land show contributed contrib-uted an e.Vtra $2G, and each secured first-prize money, Now the commlt-teo commlt-teo Is seeking a musical setting for both of the prize "songs of the soil," so that thoy ma he sung at the land show by a chorus of 300 voices and played there by tho famous Creatore's band. The judges declared In their formal report that the winning songs both "are distinct contributions to American literature." Miss Kathryn A- Turnoy, a young teacher In the Los Angeles public schools, and Albert Paul Rittenhouse, a lawyer, were the authors of the two first-prize "songs of the soil." Tho winning poems follow:, Soncj of tho Soil. (Fir6t prize By Albert Paul Rittenhouse.) wniie aaiKness onvoiopea uie worm at its birth, And the spirit of things was aBloop, I was wrought In the mass of tho formless earth, When Ho moved on tho face of the doop. Tho secrets of being, of growth and decay, Of the seedtime and harvest, are mine, I reveal them to man as the years roll away, And tho empires nrise and decline. I drink of the waters that flow from the hills, From the drifted and beautiful Bnow; Thev qulckon my power to croate, till it fills All desires, with the gifts I bestow My treasures are spread over valley and plain, In the orchard and vineyard and field, Full of fruit, oil and wine, -and the golden .grain, That my bountiful elements yield. I am mother of life all animate things Must be nurtured and fed at my breast ; From tho lowliest forms to the soaring soar-ing wings They return to my bosom to rest. CHORUS. Come ye who toll, hack to the soil, To the land of the sunset sea: Good fortune waits within its gates, For the brave, the strong, and the free. Song of the Soil. (Firat prize By Kathryn A. Turney.) I am tho mother of men mat ton, The ancient mother of all, the soil. Tho strength that ye boast, yo have drawn from my breast, 'TIs to my arms that ye creep for your rest; Tho roan to his mother full tribute shall bring, Then hush ye, and hearken the song -- that I sing. I hold in my Teat heart the seed and the root, I give to mv children the blossom and fruit. -In my veins lie the silver, the copper, the gold, f bleed yes, I bleed yet I nothing withhold; 1 smile when thy blade rends my bosom in twain, And cover my wounds with a mantle of grain. I give you the broad that ye lift to your lipe. I feed your proud mills and your fair-sailing fair-sailing ships; I am loved of the sun and the wind and tho rain. Then hush ye. my children; no longer I complain, To each shall bo given the guerdon of toll, For I am tho Mother of Men, the Soil! |