Timpanogos

Timpanogos By Harrison R. Merrill O, mighty Wonder Mountain, Watcher of the Plains, Ahout whose lofty crest the Winds of Ages played Aeolian melodies, while their sharpened bladea Carved shapes fantastical in riven stone, — What could thy voices say, were all thy crags And bald old peaks given speaking tongues? On that day, so long ago, when Adam, our first parent, Turned westward from the flaming sword and Cherubim That kept the gates of Paradise, Sweet western winds, maternal in their tenderness, Cooled and caressed thy lofty, lonely brow. Ages before, the icy waters of teeming seas Had ceased to lap against thy scarred old sides; Had left thy mighty, outspread toes Dry and firm-planted on the valley's floor — Whence, like mighty Atlas, with his universal crown Of diamond-studded sapphire, thy commanding form Arose. Even then, the life of countless ages, Encrusted with the slime and ooz, Had been thrust up and had become Strange fossils in the speaking stone. Since those far days, how many swords have flashed? How many war-like blows were struck? How many lives have ebbed away beside thy crystal Streams? Puny man, today, swarms up thy rock-ribbed sides, Plays and shouts upon thy man-like breasts; Stands upright, crows upon thy shoulders — As some fond child thrown high aloft by lusty father Nearing peaceful home from fields of honest toil — Sleeks thy great sinews;

TIMPANOGOS 893 Toils, laughing, up to crown thy ancient brow With laurels newly plucked along the road To fame; He stands exultant on thy hoary head and cries, "The Summit, the lofty Summit! See what I have done!" So stood, perhaps, some ancient man, While Morning's tender sun-light Dribbed down thy wrinkled face twisting thy features Into rugged smiles. Timpanogos, Wonder Mountain! Keeper of the Age-old Silences! Dream Maker! Revelator! Brigham Young University. The Transformation by the Pioneers Soneones Opinion of Arizona The devil was given permission one day To select a land for his own social sway, So he hunted around for a month or more, And fussod, and fumed, and terribly swore ; But at last was delighted a country to view, Where the Prickly-pear and the Catclaw grew. With a brief survey and without further excuse, He selected the land by the Santa Cruz. He saw there were still improvements to make, For he felt his own reputation at stake. An idea struck him. He swore by his horns, He would make a complete vegetation of thorns. So he studded the land with the Prickly-pear, And scattered the Cacti everywhere The Spanish Dagger, pointed and tall, And at last the cholla, to outstick them all. He imported the Apache direct from Hell, The size of the sweet-scented ranks to swell; And legions of skunks, whose loud, loud smell Perfumed the bleak country he loved so well. And for his life, he couldn't see why The rivers should any more water supply; And he swore if they furnished another drop, You might use his head and horns for a mop. He sanded the rivers till they were dry, And poisoned them all with Alkali; And promised himself on their slimy brink, The control of all who should from them drink. He saw there was still one improvement to make, So imported the scorpion and rattle-snake; That all who came to this country to dwell, Wouldn't fail to imagine a sure-enough Hell.

894 IMPROVEMENT ERA He fixed the heat at one-hundred and 'leven, And banished forever the moisture of Heaven, And said, as he heard the hot furnace roar, That the mercury might reach five hundred or more. After fixing these things so thorny and well, He said, "I'll be damned if this doesn't beat Hell." Then he spread out his wings and away he flew, And vanished forever, in a blaze of blue. And now, no doubt, in some corner of Hell, He gloats over the work he completed so well And vows Arizona can never be beat, For thorns, tarantulas, snakes and heat. For with all his plans carried out so well, He fells well assured, Arizona is Hell. The above was sent to me without a name, to see what Fd say. At last I'm saying it in the following verses: S. C. Richardson Answer to "Some-one's Opinion of Arizona" I read this all over, and pondered a while, Read it over again, and a gratified smile Spread over my face, and went into my heart; The picture seemed real; too real at the start, As I saw through the dust of an age past away, That each sign of "his" work, seemed to be here to stay. Then I saw an ox team slowly plod through the sand, And a wagon train followed to this parched, desert land. Cacti, thorns, and snakes, tried to bar them in vain, There were hearts far too strong, in that immigrant train. They stopped; and a stream not yet sunk in the sand, Was led from its bed, out to water the land. The awful, dread features, all vanished from sight, And a beautiful place seemed to grow in a night. But, as closer I look, through the beauty and glow, My heart aches at the struggles and hardships that show. Where that apple-tree stands, stood a thorny mesquite, That had to be dug in the sweltering heat. Those dahlias and pinks, brightly tinted and rare, Stand where once was a bed of the dread prickly-pear. The side-walks and streets, paved, shaded and clean, Were stifling hot sand strips, unstable and mean. Where that lovely home stands, surrounded by trees, A long, sandy ridge flung its dust on the breeze. Through that field 'neath the grain that is waving so green, Ran Rattle-snake Wash. On its banks might be seen A trail the Apaches oft used on their raids; A drearier spot could never be made. Then I took a broad view, and my heart warmed At one thing overlooked when Arizona was formed; That down in the heart of those rough, rugged hills, Lay treasures untold, that man's coffers might fill,

TRANSFORMATION BY THE PIONEERS 895 If he had but the courage to face the great West. He had it. The Alkali flats were a test To be laughed at, subdued; and though many a man, After suffering untold, left his bones on the plain, It's conquered. The things "he" laughed o'er in glee, Have turned into beauty, most wondrous to see, The mountains are pictures that through vales extend, The heat is bright sunbeams, man's life-giving friend. The poison-filled winds that the plains could but yield, Are breezes, sweet-scented, from flower and field; Manufacturing, dairying, fruit-raising, all Take the place of the cholla, the dagger so tall. The shrill railroad whistle resounds through the hills, While the bustle of business the whole valley fills; And forests and fields, and churches and schools, Ring with laughter and music, where horror once ruled. A Pioneer monument covers the land, A glorious model built by his own hand, But every point shows 'twas not fathers alone, For mothers stood by them in all that was done. He who wrote what I read, most assuredly knew, So how can we doubt the account's being true; But if it is true, then all must confess, Man has conquered what Satan once thought was success. Thatcher, Arizona. S. C. Richardson. Eucalyptus From the casement window I watch the mauve-silver of a solitary euca- lyptus cresting the hill. Now it sways in the wind as a nude maiden ready for a plunge in the sea among the foam-lipped waves. Now it straightens, shivers, lifts its head like some sensitive creature awakening to life's realities. Now it drops its slender branches, it would cover its cold naked trunk as a modest woman drapes her full breasts. Now, had I tree speech, and could it answer back, would it tell of its shame, would it say: "All tilings are pure; thought alone is evil?" San Diego, California. D. C. Retsloff.