LEGEND — THE BEST PART OF THE AMERICAN EAGLE IS THE QUILL .
I come with a subject familiar to-night,
Adapted for business or fanciful flight;
Esteemed by our fathers in fair days of old,
Revered by their children — on silver and gold —
The American Eagle, proud bird of the free!
With motto in beak, " Unum Pluribus E. "
With arrow and olive-branch firm in his claw,
Believing in peace and believing in law;
Bright warden that jingles with musical chime
On counter or tablet, in prose or in rhyme,
The bird we are proud of wherever we roam,
Clear-eyed as our fair " Jersey Lilies " at home.
We are glad that the century finds him in health,
Presenting at par the national wealth,
And we've noticed whenever he opens his claws
That the lion stops roaring and pulls in his paws.
From the Tea Party held in Boston one day,
To the race with Genesta on ocean and bay,
The Eagle at times may have known how to brag,
But, as usual, the Puritan carries the flag.
The ship Alabama sailed out to the west,
On business that wasn't considered the best,
But Old England grew pale at the itemized bill
Which our Evarts drew up with American quill.
The Adamses, Hamiltons, Jeffersons, Jays,
The Jacksons, Calhouns, the Websters and Clays,
Who guided by word or conquered by will,
Were always the greatest when handling the quill.
From the day that the Mayflower unloaded her freight,
To the last civil plank in the old Ship of State,
The popular breeze jib and main-sail might fill,
But the man at the helm was the man with the quill.
For the passions of men, like the foam or the spray,
Seethe loud for the moment, then vanish away,
But the lines that grow brighter on history's page
Are the words of the prophet, the statesman, and sage.
The clamor of praise and the voice of the crowd
Dissolve in the air — pass away as the cloud,
But the stories of Homer and Stratford's " Sweet Will "
Go down through the ages asserting the quill.
The Platos, the Solons, and Blackstones survive
The Forums and Councils where advocates strive;
The lawyer may triumph through quiddit or flaw,
But the Runyons and Kents always hand down the law.
The Stephensons, Franklins, and Fultons were born
When Bacon's " Organum " saluted the morn;
The telegraph's ticking, the telephone's trill,
Are dashes from Morse's and Edison's quill.
The " genii bottled " anticipate steam,
Bartholdi interprets Aladdin's fair dream,
And the ravens of Odin perch over the door
Of the editor's room on the sky-garret floor.
We have right to be proud, for the record is fine;
And our Eagle proposes to fly on this line
Until labor and honor go forth hand in hand,
And the pen is the sceptre that rules every land.
Yankee Doodle forever! Columbia hail!
With banner at royal, and bunting on rail;
Write " Liberty " large, and work with a will
To emulate Hancock's and Washington's quill.
And this is the moral — remember it, boys!
It isn't entirely a question of noise;
The engine may shriek, and the whistle blow shrill,
But the man at the lever's the man with the quill.
I come with a subject familiar to-night,
Adapted for business or fanciful flight;
Esteemed by our fathers in fair days of old,
Revered by their children — on silver and gold —
The American Eagle, proud bird of the free!
With motto in beak, " Unum Pluribus E. "
With arrow and olive-branch firm in his claw,
Believing in peace and believing in law;
Bright warden that jingles with musical chime
On counter or tablet, in prose or in rhyme,
The bird we are proud of wherever we roam,
Clear-eyed as our fair " Jersey Lilies " at home.
We are glad that the century finds him in health,
Presenting at par the national wealth,
And we've noticed whenever he opens his claws
That the lion stops roaring and pulls in his paws.
From the Tea Party held in Boston one day,
To the race with Genesta on ocean and bay,
The Eagle at times may have known how to brag,
But, as usual, the Puritan carries the flag.
The ship Alabama sailed out to the west,
On business that wasn't considered the best,
But Old England grew pale at the itemized bill
Which our Evarts drew up with American quill.
The Adamses, Hamiltons, Jeffersons, Jays,
The Jacksons, Calhouns, the Websters and Clays,
Who guided by word or conquered by will,
Were always the greatest when handling the quill.
From the day that the Mayflower unloaded her freight,
To the last civil plank in the old Ship of State,
The popular breeze jib and main-sail might fill,
But the man at the helm was the man with the quill.
For the passions of men, like the foam or the spray,
Seethe loud for the moment, then vanish away,
But the lines that grow brighter on history's page
Are the words of the prophet, the statesman, and sage.
The clamor of praise and the voice of the crowd
Dissolve in the air — pass away as the cloud,
But the stories of Homer and Stratford's " Sweet Will "
Go down through the ages asserting the quill.
The Platos, the Solons, and Blackstones survive
The Forums and Councils where advocates strive;
The lawyer may triumph through quiddit or flaw,
But the Runyons and Kents always hand down the law.
The Stephensons, Franklins, and Fultons were born
When Bacon's " Organum " saluted the morn;
The telegraph's ticking, the telephone's trill,
Are dashes from Morse's and Edison's quill.
The " genii bottled " anticipate steam,
Bartholdi interprets Aladdin's fair dream,
And the ravens of Odin perch over the door
Of the editor's room on the sky-garret floor.
We have right to be proud, for the record is fine;
And our Eagle proposes to fly on this line
Until labor and honor go forth hand in hand,
And the pen is the sceptre that rules every land.
Yankee Doodle forever! Columbia hail!
With banner at royal, and bunting on rail;
Write " Liberty " large, and work with a will
To emulate Hancock's and Washington's quill.
And this is the moral — remember it, boys!
It isn't entirely a question of noise;
The engine may shriek, and the whistle blow shrill,
But the man at the lever's the man with the quill.
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