Pioneers Of The Pacific

What livcs they livcd ! what deaths they died ? A tlioueaml canons, darkening wido Below Sierras' slopes of pride, Ueceive thcm now. Aud they who died Along tlie dim, f ar descrt route, Their ghosts are many. Let thom keep Their vast possession. The Piute, The tawny warrior, will dispute No boundary with theso. And I, Who saw theni live, who feit them die, Say, let their unplowed asheB sleep. The bearded, eun-browned men who bore The burden of that f rightful year, Who toiled, but did not gather store, They shaü not be f orgotten. Drear Aud white, the plains of Shoshonee Shall point us to the f urther shore, And long white shining liues of bouea Make ueedlesö sign of white mile stones. The wíld man's yell, the groaning wheel ; The train that moved like drifting barge ; The dust that rose up liko a cloud, Liko smoke of ilistant battle ! Loud The great whips rang like shot, and steel Flashed back as in some battle charge. They sought- yea, they did find their rest Along that long and lonesomo way, ThoBe brave men buffetiug the West With lifted faces. Full were they Of great endeavor. Brave and trne As stern crusader, ciad in steel, They died afleid, as it was fit ; Made strong with hope, they dared to do Achievcment that a host lo-day Would stagger at, stand back, and reel, Defeated at the thought of it. What brave endeavor to endure ! What patiënt hope when hope was past ! What still surrender at tho iafit, A thousand leagues from hope ! How puro They lived, how proud they died ! How gencrous with lif e ! The wide And gloried age of chivalry Hath not one page liko this to me. Let all these golden days go by - I breathe beneath another sky. Let beauty glide in glided car And flnd my sundown seas afar, l'orgetful that 'tis but one grave From east unto the westmost wave. Yes, I remember! The still tears That o'er uncoflined faces feil ! The final silent, i?ad farewell ! God ! these aro with me all tho years ! They shall be with me ever. I Shali not forget. I hold a trust. They are of mj existence. When Adown the shining iron track We sweep, and fields of corn flash back, I turn to other days, to men Who made a pathway with their duet.