Poetry of Kansas

The Growler

HOWEVER much you love the nightly past,
    Its useless customs where they dormant lie,
    Its musty odors, which you longing sigh
To breathe again, as in its hallowed cast
You mould your character___even the last
    Of ages, with its standards looking high___
    Yet the present, oh, my brother, don't decry,
Though you think this age unwisely is too fast.
For of all the ages that have passed away___
    Of many ages all combined in one,
        With Time himself grown hoary in their course___
Our age alone has seen the light of day;
    To us the crown of victory is won;
        Wisdom declares her laws our standing force.

__James A. DeMoss


Kansas Zephyrs
James A. DeMoss
(Thayer, Kansas: ___. 1892)
Pages 48-49

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July 19, 2003 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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