Daniel Lafayette Hardin
Born: Marietta, Ind., Jan. 1, 1869
After receiving his education Mr. Hardin took up the profession of teaching,
in which he is now engaged at Anita, Iowa. His poems have appeared
extensively in the local press and have always received notice. He also
writes prose for numerous newspapers and magazines.
E'en though you hope, and that in vain,
That sweet hope will leave no stain,
So like fond prayer rising heavenward to the skies
Let your prayer and hope rising, forever rise.
Mrs. Clara Allanson
Born: Cherry Valley, N.Y., July 21, 1830
This lady was married at the age of twenty two to George Allanson.
Her poems have appeared in various magazines and the local press.
Mrs. Allanson is the mother of a very interesting family; her son,
Edward, has gained quite a local reputation as a poet, and he is
represented in this work. Mrs. Allanson will publish a volume of
her poems in the near future. She is now a resident of Anita, Iowa.
The Thread of Gold
Faded and worn, and out of date,
In fickle fashion's phrase,
Though once the pride of rich and great
In manhood's palmy days;
Now thrown aside in a ghostly place,
To battle with moth and mold--
Yet through the screen of dust I trace
The gleaming threads of gold.
We may not keep the tattered part,
Revive the faded hue;
But with the treasures of the heart
This thought were scared, too:
That through the mist of coming years,
When time grows sere and old,
Our deeds shall shine through strife and cares,
Like gleaming threads of gold.
Dr. Francis M. Hill
Born: Kellogville, O., Aug 11 1844.
About two hundred peoms have appeared from the pen of
Francis M. Hill, a noted citizen of Persia, Iowa. For
several years he was a Justice of the Peace and has held
various positions of trust. Dr. Hill is a physician,
surgeon and pharmacist, and has had thirty years experince
as a general practioner.
Oh! time has come and fled, dear George,
Since the autumn of sixty-two,
material change has taken place
With me as well as with you. The clarion's note is muffled in peace,
and hushed is the battle's din;
The gates of the temple of war is closed
and Mars imprisoned therein.
And among the many that went, dear George,
When the call for the thousands came,
Were our old schoolmates dear, but brave,
They marched to the field of fame.
They were slain and piled on the altar high,
And their atoning blood
Was drank by the parched and thirsty earth,
As a desert would sallow a flood.
That one, a companion of your's, dear George,
Your counsel was his delight.
As together you walked to the distant town
and returned but late at night.
Born: England, June 5, 1837.
This poetical lecturer has written about fifteen thousand
lines of rhymes, part of which has been published in
pamphlet form. He emigrated to Canada in 1856 and
settled in America three years later. Mr. Ballard is
located at Red Oak, Iowa, engaged in gardening in summer;
but in winter he generally goes on the lecturing tour.
When I was quite a little boy,
My father's pet and mother's joy,
I've laid down in the bright sangfoy:
And listened to the lark in the morning.
As he flew out of the sangfoy,
And sang his notes without alloy;
It filled my heart with sweetest joy
As I listened to the lark in the morning.
I've watched the lark with great delight,
Soar higher, and higher, till out of sight:
But never saw him soar at night,
But often in the morning.
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