Lo, All The Age Is Rank With Wrong.

    Lo, all the age is rank with wrong!
        The nations kneel to monstrous might,
        And horrid cries that haunt the night,
    Have hushed the notes of happy song;
    Mankind the deepest truth has missed,
        The best emotions have grown dim;
    We praise the God that dwelt in Christ,
        But crucify the man in him.

    Laws, noble, good, and great at first,
        With plan perverted, bind again
        The regal rights of mind and men
    And prove of tyrants far the worst;
    With blinded eyes is Nature made,
        And knows her constant purpose crossed,
    While crafty Jacob plies his trade
        And Esau finds his blessing lost.

    Earth yields her fruits in ample store;
        Her children all are heirs that trace
        Their lineage through the royal race,
    And all her wealth is theirs--and more;
    But one with cunning hand controls
        The portions that his brothers fed,
    While thousands--just and worthy souls--
        In aimless anguish cry for bread!

    No royal blood by caste or creed,
        No pride of place, no gild of gold
        Can warm the weak, accursed with cold,
    Or light the awful nights of need;
    Labor alone can blessings bring
        To crown the brows of freedom's brave;
    The toiler is the truest king,
        The idler is the only slave!

    But laugh, O, Labor, dry thy tears!
        A better day is drawing nigh;
        Hope brightens all the somber sky;
    The golden age of Love is near!
    Behold! But yonder stands a Star!
        The ancient lies are downward hurled;
    A man--a child--is greater far
        Than all the wealth of all the world!

Freeman Edwin Miller

Freeman Edwin Miller was an American poet, journalist, and teacher, best known for his work in Oklahoma. Born on November 9, 1864, in New Jersey, Miller moved to Oklahoma in 1894, where he became a prominent figure in the literary and educational communities. He is remembered for his contributions to early Oklahoma literature, as well as his work in promoting education and journalism in the region. He passed away on July 14, 1951.

Freeman Edwin Miller

The Race For Homes.

Freeman Edwin Miller, Simple Poetry

Had We Not Met.

Freeman Edwin Miller, Simple Poetry

Ex Anima.

Freeman Edwin Miller, Simple Poetry

My Mollie, O!

Freeman Edwin Miller, Simple Poetry

English

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At Perry, September 16, 1893.

    Crowds! Crowds! Crowds!
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        Dust! Dust! Dust!

Freeman Edwin Miller

To The Lord Viscount Forbes.

FROM THE CITY OP WASHINGTON.


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The Workingman.

    God bless the brawny arms of toil,
        The noble hearts and royal hands,
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        And grow the grains of laughing lands!
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Despondency.

    O, gloomy world that rolls in weary space,
        And moans wild music to the broken spheres,
        Whose rivers wander into seas of tears,
    Despair has bound thee in a close embrace;
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The Fudge Family In Paris Letter IV. From Phelim Connor To ----

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Still let your .            .            .            .^[2]
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