November 24, 1856: “To the Milwaukee”, by B. I. Duward (26), published in The Leader.
In 1845 the Scottish immigrant Bernard Isaac Duward (1817-1902) arrived in Wisconsin. In time, with his family he lived along the Milwaukee River at the current site of Gordon Park in Milwaukee. His son, then daughter, died while he lived along that stream. Here, he laments leaving his favorite stream.
Now must I part from thee, thou “stream of plenty,”
Mute, placid witness of unuttered thought!
Now must I say “adieu!” yet, ere I leave thee,
I thank thee for the lessons thou hast taught.
Love, birth and death, the triple keys which open
The weird and hidden chambers of the heart,
Have done their work on me since first I met thee,
And changed me somewhat—yet unchanged thou art.
Oh! stream unsung! Up thro’ the silent ages
By many a grief and joy thy current swept,
Clasping serenest skies, or clouds of thunder—
And in thy depths forgotten stars have slept.
So life and death, and love and joy and sorrow
Shall still remain beside thee to the last;
And our brief day, that seems so large, shall dwindle
E’re long into the dim and shriveled past.
Sweet is thine office! the chaste moon distains not
To come into thy bosom, and the star
Of eve makes thee her pillow, and the day-God
Cools in thy wave the hot light from his car!
Flow on! and lave the feet of yonder city,
That like a fair bride by her mirror stands,
And views her beauty, o’er and o’er delighted,
And binds her jewels on with milk-white hands!
Ah! when my ashes slumber in the valley,
“Life’s fitful fever” over, thy broad stream
And rugged banks may list to finer numbers
Than these I offer thee; but do not dream
That any one will love so much thy beauty;
So linked forever with new hope, new duty,—
Is lilied bank, wild rose, and withered leaf.
What peace is this! Though ’tis thy gift to waken
Memories that turn thy ripples into tears,
My tears are tears of joy made calm and holy,
And patient hope illumes the coming years.
Adieu! I ne’er again may look upon thee,
But will remember tho’ thou cease to run,
That by thy side the Great and Blest Creator
Took my sweet child, and gave—His only son!