1917-06-28

A SYMPATHETIC COUNTRY EDITOR

          The country editor is a man of all work – in fact; he is a man of genius in his way. He may be an ordinary sort of a fellow, if one might judge him from his general appearance; but he cannot be held responsible for his manner of dress altogether, for he is compelled by force of circumstances to patronize the readymade clothing store from whence comes the advertising patronage. Poor fellow, he is to be pitied, naturally he has refined tastes, and would look well in a Prince Albert suit, made by an artistic tailor, even if it were to cost more money than the slopmade suits in the local shops; but then he would not get the advertising, and without a few columns of advertising, even at the lowest rates, where would the revenue come from to pay for the boiler plates of which the reading matter largely consists? Full many a literary gem of purest ray serene can be found by those who search with care the columns of the country weekly, for there appear the brilliant thought of the editor whose style has not been smoothed into flat monotony by the electric iron of convention. He dares to be ingenuous, and when he has a thought he puts it into cold type in all the courage of his innocence. His life is one sweet song, for he lives in an atmosphere of rural simplicity where the first sound he hears when awakening from a refreshing night’s rest is the silvery tinkling of the cowbell as old bossy wanders up from the pasture lot to yield her rich store of milk for the family breakfast. As a truly charming example of the genially naïve is the following item, clipped from an ancient copy of the Dunnville Bugelhorn of Liberty, which must have been written in an early day before Davy Hastings hiked from Hamilton to become a shining light in the literary world on the banks of the Grand river. It sounds very much like Davy in one of his pathetic moods, and as a specimen of rural local writing, we give it to the readers of these musings :

          “It is with sorrow that we announce an accident to Mrs. Timothy Tadpole, wife of the well-known grocer, who sells three pounds of Redpath’s best granulated sugar for a quarter. While he was chasing her around the yard in fun the other evening, she stepped on an old tomato can and severely lacerated her foot. Should blood poisoning set in and she be removed from our midst, the Bugelhorn of Liberty will turn its column rules as a Tribute to her.”

          Thus can the sympathetic editor of a country weekly mitigate the apprehensions of a well-regarded patron to his advertising columns by a promise of posthumous honors. It would be sad indeed for the beloved partner of the local grocer to die from stepping on a tomato can, and not know when the next steamboat from Brantford would tie up at the Dunnville wharf; but the promise of the editor of turned rules in the columns of the Buglehorn of Liberty would inspire resignation at least. The governor-general of Canada could get no more honor paid to his memory.

                                      HAMILTON’S SUMMER RESORT

          Have you a cottage by the sea. Or, to be more prosaic, do you own a shack down on the sandstrip that divides the turbulent waters of old Ontario from the placid Burlington bay? In either case, then you will be getting a move on you, for June, the loveliest month in the year, will be the time to enjoy it to the full. What changes have taken place within a few years! The time was when old John Dynes was monarch of all he surveyed, when he a few humble fishermen made their home along the south end of the beach. Then John Martin, Hamilton’s pugilistic schoolmaster, bethought him that the beach was just the place to sell booze, prepare fish dinners and give lessons to the incipient sports of the town in the manly art of defense. The two Johns (Dynes and Martin) divided the honors of the beach, and such fish dinners and game suppers as were served during the season gave to the sandstrip a reputation that even drew the old-timers from far off Dundas to the Saturday and Sunday feasts. The savory smell from the beach kitchens were wafted across the bay and up the canal to the Valley city, and those old sports could not withstand the temptation. Ah! those were happy days of innocence and pleasure, before the days of the electric road, the auto cars, and the wild shrieking of the locomotive to disturb the quiet beauty of the scene. You had your own choice as to the method of getting to the beach, either row or sail down, or patronize the tiny steam craft at 30 cents for the round trip. A gang would start from the James street wharf, armed and equipped for fishing or shooting, with hampers well-filled. It was not all temperance crowds that set sail on Saturday and Sunday afternoons, and the well-filled flasks of old rye, and the bottles of Grant & Middlewood’s and Anderson & Tom’s choicest brew would pass around the jolly circle till they all got into a musical mood, and loudly they would carol Life on the Ocean Wave, forgetful of the day, for if they were at home on those peaceful Sundays afternoons they would no doubt be singing the psalms of David or the sacred songs of the Wesleys. Well, they were a happy lot anyway, and by the time they reached the hospitable bars of the two Johns, they were both thirsty and mellow, for the supply they started with was soon exhausted once they got out on the rolling deep of Burlington bay.

          Times have changed in the half century and more that have passed since those old days. Those young roysterers have become the business men of this dear old town, and instead of hunting and fishing down by the seashore on the Sabbath, they spend their nights and the weekend in their palatial cottages at the beach. The two Johns are not there now to prepare those delicious fish and duck suppers, and the Ontario Temperance act has placed its seal of condemnation on the beverages that cheered and inebriated.

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          There may be a few fisher huts scattered here and there along the lake front, but on the bayside half of the sandstrip are homes built for comfort, and many of the dwellers make them not only a summer home, but on account of the high rents in town, they are beginning to spend winters down there, and they tell us that the balmy breezes from old Ontario are more refreshing than cold and boisterous in midwinter. And, there you are. Take either view of it, and one must confess that it is a delightful summer resort, now that it has electric lights and waterworks and the many modern conveniences of town life. It is getting to be a costly luxury now to live and own a home  on the sandstrip, for the old days of shack life have passed into innocuous desuetude, and one must now own or rent a house in keeping with the surroundings. This makes it expensive living to have a house in town and one by the “seaside.” But what a joy it is to the children to live in an atmosphere of fresh air, and not be hampered with any too much clothing; and then the children of larger growth who have to spend their days in a sweltering workshop or behind a counter in a department store, how they look forward to the evening tide, when the shops close at five, and off they speed in the radials cars to spend that night in the cooling breezes that old Ontario sends to make life worth living! What a delightful spot that beach would be for a summer hospital, where suffering ones could be housed during the summer and fall months, away from the noise and bustle of the city hospital, free from the hot and fetid air of crowded city streets, with the cool breezes bringing back life and health to their heated brows! Such a thing as a hospital for convalescents down on the beach is not an impossibility in the near future. And what a site the north shore would make for a home for our soldier boys who will return home maimed for life and unable to work. The country will owe it to them, and the building of such a home should not be put off till a more convenient season; and the Canadian government should pay every cent of the cost. Better that than the poor house, where many a brave soldier has ended his life in the old countries. All this may be a dream of the future, but it is worthwhile to think it over and be ready when the home is needed. Canada proposes to provide liberal pensions for its army of dependents, who may return, but no greater blessing could be given them than a comfortable home in which to spend the closing years of life. Who can prophecy the future of the dreamy old sandstrip, where past generations have feasted on fish and duck suppers prepared by the two Johns!

1906-07-28

Now that natural gas has become one of the everyday necessities of Hamilton, it may be interesting to know that it was discovered away back in the 40s of the last century, at Albion Mills, a few miles from this city. The Albion Mills are within an easy afternoon’s walk from Hamilton, but the better way for a pedestrian to reach them is to take a short cut by ascending the ravine in which are the burning springs of Barton. It is all of fifty years since the writer, who was then a young man, visited that location with a party of young people, on a holiday excursion. On the mountain top to the east, just outside the limits of the city, a number of colored men and their families colonized a settlement and built comfortable homes, to which they gave the not inappropriate name of Africa. Near the waterworks reservoir was another settlement, lacking the comfort of its African neighbor, built of shanties, which was called Slabtown. Near a deep cutting in the solid rock, for the Port Dover railway, which was then being graded, was another collection of shanties. What a splendid view was to be had in Hamilton! On the left was the bay, seven miles long, covered with ice. The right stretched toward Niagara, and on a still evening one almost fancied the roaring of the cataract could be heard. A ravine runs inland for miles, a rushing stream along its bed, stately pines and stubborn oaks along its sides. It was the dream of that neighborhood that the first station on the Port Dover road, after leaving Hamilton, would be located at that point, and that it would eventually become a large town and Hamilton merchants and manufacturers would make their home there, coming into the city daily to attend to business.

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          The occupants of the shanties were principally laborers, who had squatted there when construction began on the Port Dover road, but at the time of which we write, all work had been suspended and the laborers were living in hope of its early renewal. Near this settlement was what is known as the burning spring, and in the ravine were the ruins of an old mill and a dwelling house. The spring was in a cavity of the ground some five feet deep, and though it was continuously boiling and bubbling up, yet the water was cold but unpleasant to the taste. In the winter the water flowed more freely, but in the summer it was stronger of gas. The water was considered to be a panacea for diseases, and people from the city made regular trips to the spring to drink the water and carry it home in jugs. Animals drank the water and would go long distances to get it. There was a legend that the owner of the mill grew fearful that the spring from whose waters flames so often issued was in the regions of his satanic majesty, and that it was the literal hell fire he had been taught to believe in. Under this conviction, he thought it unsafe to live in that locality, so he demolished the mill and his house and left them in ruins. It is half a century since the writer visited the place, therefore we know nothing of the present condition of that locality.

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          But the Albion Mills are still an attraction, and it is there that the natural gas has been burning for at least half a century. Very romantic is the ravine in which the mills are located; its steep sides covered with forest trees and with dense undergrowth, except the immediate banks of the stream which finds its way from the interior of the country to the lake. It is now almost a memory of the winter afternoon when our party was there. Sometimes this stream meandered gently among rocks covered with moss; but at others it rushed with such velocity and violence as to make a thundering cataract where in its calmer moods there was but a purling waterfall. Were we to visit now, would it be the same picturesque scenery that it was in the long ago? The youth of twenty and the veteran of threescore years and ten often see things from a different standpoint. Possibly some day we may take a tramp out to see what changes the years have wrought in that locality. Time goes swiftly while observing the surroundings, and the quarter of a mile from the burning springs to the mill is soon passed. A grand scene opens to the eye and one sees in front and on the right, lofty perpendicular rocks, over which the stream falls in a beautiful cascade. From between the layers of rock, the dripping water was frozen into icicles some twenty feet or more in length. No stalactites so beautiful as these, whose brilliancy were in contrast to the dark masses of rock, and which sparkled brightly in the rays of the sunlight. There is another wonderful feature about the spot, for from the crevices of the rock, there is issued a gas which was kindled with a match and burst into brilliant flames and burned till extinguished. Here for ages the fore worshipper may have prostrated himself before this wonderful supply of nature. Instead of a temple for the fire worshipper, we find a prosaic flouring mill. In the rock were three principal orifices, from which the jets of gas issued and these were practically utilized by the practical miller. One jet was under the mill wheel to keep it from freezing in the winter, and at that time, he was seriously considering the question of piping the gas into a stove to heat the mill. The gas burned with a bluish flame and gave out great heat. It was highly charged with sulphureted hydrogen, as the odor plainly evidenced.

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          There is a romance, a sad and true one, connected with the neighborhood of Albion Mills. William Lyon Mackenzie tells the story in a book he wrote along about the 40’s. It is of a girl who loved not wisely, but too well. Unwilling to survive her shame, she threw herself from the topmost crag upon a bed of solid rock below. She lingered for several hours after her terrible leap, and while yet conscious told the name of her perfidious lover. The name of Lover’s Leap was given to the spot, and perchance, it may be known by that name to this day. A more appropriate name would be The Leap of the Forsaken.

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          The Albion Mills were built in the early years of the last century, and possibly have been in action for at least one hundred years. In the year 1827, John Secord was the owner, and being desirous of selling out, he inserted an advertisement in the Gore Gazette, published at Ancaster, calling attention to the property. The description he gave of the mills and their surroundings may be of interest to those who, like the writer, visited the place more than half a century ago. The property was known by the name Albion Mills, and consisted of upwards of 400 acres of land, the soil of which was of excellent quality. Nearly 200 acres were in a high state of cultivation, with a never-failing stream of water running through the place. A list of the buildings shows that it must have been a property of high value. The grist mill had two sets of stones and all the necessary machinery for merchant and country work; a saw mill in excellent order and in full operation; a new stone distillery, with all the necessary appendages, and a distiller’s house; a blacksmith’s shop; for tenants and laborers, one large hewed log house, well-furnished (with shed and stables) and lately occupied an inn; a merchant’s shop with cellars; an extensive storehouse; a cooper’s shop and wagon house; large two-story dwelling house, with kitchen and cellars, quite new and well-finished; an extensive barn, stables and sheds, with a number of other outbuildings; an excellent salt springs on the premises, two excellent gardens; an extensive, bearing orchard of the best apples, pears, peaches, plums, cherries; also, an English white grapevine, which produced an abundance of fine grapes. The advertisement gives further details. After describing the practical features of the property, then the landscape is pictured in glowing colors : “The above described premises are handsomely situated, commanding an extensive view of Lake Ontario and the opposite shore to a considerable distance below York, and of the vessels passing to and fro from the Burlington bay canal. It is an uncommonly healthy as well as an old settled and wealthy part of the country. It is nearly central between Niagara, York and Long Point, being about forty-five miles from each of those places, four miles from Lake Ontario, five from Burlington bay and Hamilton, the county town, and seven from the villages of Ancaster and Dundas.” Mr. Secord considered it unnecessary to describe minutely every advantage which the premises possessed, as those wishing to purchase would naturally examine for themselves. The property was for sale separately or altogether for below its real value, for part payment in hand and the remainder in yearly annual installments. For further information, intending purchasers were referred to Matthew Crooks, Ancaster, John Crooks, Niagara or to John Secord, on the premises. The advertisement was dated Barton, Dist. Of Gore, U. Canada, March 3, 1827.

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          Looking toward the Albion Mills from the cars of the H. G. & B. electric road, it is a wild-looking spot. Has the old place the charms described by Mr. Secord in 1827. Natural gas cropped out from the hillsides even in those days, but its use was unknown. For nearly sixty years, Hamilton has known of its existence, but not its value, and it is only within the past year that it has been piped into this city and is now used largely for lighting, heating, cooking and manufacturing purposes. And another company is now preparing to pipe gas from other wells nearby which will be used exclusively for manufacturing purposes, and to consumers at a lower rate than the cost of coal. Probably the reading of these Musings may suggest to exploring parties of young people and afternoon walk to Albion Mills.

1906-07-06

If you don’t see what you want in the way of old curios when you visit the Old Curiosity Shop of the veteran Tom Burrows, just intimate what it is and he will dig it out of the ruins of hundreds of old Hamilton homes. Do you want some old, forgotten lore, hunt through his collection of books that has been accumulating for a half century or more. The other day the veteran auctioneer dropped onto a copy of that venerable paper, the Hamilton Gazette, which was printed on Monday, July 8, 1844, nearly sixty-two years ago, and two years before Hamilton became an incorporated city. The Gazette was one of the first papers published in Hamilton, beginning in 1834 by Geo. P. Bull, the father of Rev. G.H. Bull, the grandfather of J. Eldon Bull, insurance agent, and G. H. Bull, clerk in the post office. The Gazette office was on John street, south of Main, and was a very old-looking, roughcast building, evidently having been built by one of the first settlers. The editor’s family occupied part of the building, and the printing office was on the ground floor. The old kitchen still stands as a monument of the honest work of the ancient builders, and is now doing duty as a lumber shed on the corner of Main and Catharine streets, at Burton & Baldwin’s factory. After the Gazette office was moved to the new stone building on Hughson, opposite the court house square, the old roughcast on John street was occupied by John Hoodless as a furniture store. Mr. Hoodless had his factory in the stone building back of the Elgin block, and his residence was where Mr. Brennen & Sons have their lumber office. Details may be tedious to some readers, but when one is digging up ancient history, the little minutia is appreciated by persons who are interested. Harcourt B. Bull learned the printer’s trade in the Gazette office with his father, and took to politics, while the Rev. G. H. Bull turned his attention to the salvation of his fellowmen, and is still doing valiant battle against the archenemy of mankind.

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          The copy of the Gazette that is now before us is a venerable-looking sheet. It is a six-column folio, has less than twelve columns of reading matter, over four columns in small type being given over to Egerton Ryerson in a defense of the Wesleyan conference from the charge of mixing too much politics in its religious teachings. Egerton Ryerson was evidently the whole thing in Wesleyan Methodism in the early days. There were only 26 lines of local news in the paper, one of which was about  “a most wanton outrage committed here Monday last. Mr. Bowers had nearly completed the painting of a very handsome and expensive flag for the society of Oddfellows, lately formed in this town, and had suspended it from his window for the purpose of drying, when some fellows at work on the road took umbrage at it, tore it from its staff, and otherwise mutilated it. The case was brought before the magistrates and warrants issued for the apprehension of the parties, who are non est.” There must have been a tinge of orange somewhere in the coloring of the flag to have aroused the hatred of the laborers working in the street. It is a blessing that a man can even wear an orange lily on the twelfth of July without getting his head cracked.

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          Even in its youthful days of innocence, Hamilton had its bad characters who lived at the expense of others. The only other local item in the venerable Gazette was to the effect  “That a few days since announcement was made of the apprehension of a noted robber by Chief Constable Jeremie, and the recovery of a large amount of property. Since then the editor learned that on the following day, Jeremie returned to the house where he had found the goods, and on making another search discovered a variety of other property concealed behind a false partition, and also a bunch of skeleton keys. These have been taken possession of, and will serve as further evidence on the trial.”

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          Country editors 60 years or more ago used to say nice things about Hamilton, even though it was a small village. The editor of the Woodstock Herald had been down here on a visit, and, as was usual in those days, hat his hat chalked for free entertainment at Press’ hotel; and when he returned home to the grind of editorials , setting the type and then doing the presswork for the Herald, his remembrance of the good meals at Press’ that had “filled a long-felt want” in his system, suggested this generous and enthusiastic paragraph : “Hamilton – that is the town, and we said so in print ten years ago, which must be the emporium of Western Canada. They may change the name of the province, or make it no province at all, if they like.They may shift the seat of government, too, as often as they please, but Hamilton, from its commanding position at the head of Lake Ontario, with a luxuriously rich agricultural country around and west of it, must be the commercial metropolis of Canada West. They are building there quite as fast, but no faster, than we are in Woodstock; but the especial object of attraction which we observed down there the other day was a most magnificent omnibus, now in course of construction for Mr. Press, of the Promenade House and Royal Exchange. We were in too great a hurry to inquire about the maker, etc., but the name and the etxeteras can easily be ascertained by anybody who wants one for Woodstock. Suffice it in the meantime to say, that we have seen nothing of the kind half so elegant on this continent. It will be, in short, a travelling palace.” If that puff didn’t draw an advertisement from the carriage maker who made that omnibus, then flattery was a failure.

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          Under the head of marriage notices we find the following : “At Hamilton, on the 25^th ult., by Rev. Anson Green, Levi Beemer, of Simcoe, to Ann Eliza, youngest daughter of James Gage, Esq., of this town.” They were the father and mother of Mrs. Calder, of this city. Mr. Beemer shortly afterward moved to Hamilton and opened a jewelry store, and continued in business here till he retired from work. He died a few short years ago, and until his last sickness, was a hale and hearty man. Mr. Beemer was active in advertising the interests of Hamilton in its early days, and lived to see it become the great manufacturing city of Canada. John Law, barrister at law, who for nine years had been clerk of the district court, died on the first of July, 1844.

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          It may be interesting to give a directory of the men who were prominent in business affairs in Hamilton sixty-two years ago. The copy of the Gazette before us was printed on Monday, the 8^th day of July, 1844, just sixty-two years ago tomorrow. C. H. Webster kept a dry goods store in the room now occupied as a ticket office by the C. P. R., on the corner of James and King streets. He sold his stock to Hamilton & Kneeshaw, and moved away. He was one of the early members of the Barton lodge, and visited his brethren here a few years ago and then returned to his home in the States and died. S. Oliver was the town auctioneer, and was some such character as our esteemed Irish friend, Tom Burrows. G. H. Cozens was the artistic tailor of Hamilton, and Shea, Martin & Co. had just received their new assortment of paper hangings. Richard Wonham was the rival of S. Oliver in the auctioneer business. On the corner of King and Catharine streets was the Mansion House, kept by William Green, late of the Black Bull Inn. The name of the Mansion House was afterward changed to the Little Burlington hotel, and one night in the latter part of the 50’s it went up in a blaze. Harte & Scott kept a confectionery in a store on James street, where now is the Grafton clothing house. Wm. Press was the proprietor of the Royal Exchange, and made a specialty of two o’clock dinners. William & Wickersham sold boots and shoes in Dundas, and bid for the Hamilton trade in the columns of the Gazette. Robert Holbrook kept the local shoe store on King street, three doors from John. Jacob Bastedo had always on hand the best assortment of hats, caps, muffs, gloves etc. of the latest London and New York fashions. Distin & Sons exhorted people to put tin roofs on their buildings, and to get a perfect job, they were the firm to do it. Coulson & Gilmour had just opened a new wholesale and retail dry goods warehouse on King street west, in the new brick building adjoining Messrs. Osborne & McIntyre – about where the Herald office is. G. L. Beardmore offered for sale, at the lowest price, at the stone tannery, all kinds of leather and findings; and he was also in the market to purchase 2,000 hides. The old stone tannery is on the corner of Catharine and Robert streets, and more than half a century ago, when Beardmore was burned out, was converted into a molding shop. It is now part of the D. Moore company’s foundry. John Bradley kept the British Coffee House in a frame building on the corner of Main and John streets, next to the Gazette office. T. Bickle was the proprietor of Medical Hall, on King street, near John. Shortly afterwards he moved to the building now occupied by J. P. Hennessy, next to Stanley Mills & Co. Kennedy, Parker & Co. announced the arrival of the Caledonia from Glasgow, and the Monhaica from Liverpool with part of their spring importation of dry goods. There “were selected personally by Mr. Kennedy on his recent visit to the English market,” there fore they were able to offer great inducements to retail buyers for cash, and to those who had been punctual in meeting their engagements. This was one of the leading wholesale firms in Hamilton sixty years ago. V. H. Tisdale & Co. were wholesale dealers in general novelties, where country merchants could buy anything from a wagon to canary seed. William Morris had recently leased the house on James street, opposite the market, known as the White Swan Inn, and had it newly painted and elegantly furnished. “It contains front and back parlors, sitting and bedrooms; and being situated in the central part of the town, offers facilities and accommodation to travelers that few hotels in Hamilton can claim.” Edmund Ritchie was postmaster, and in the list of uncalled for letters at the post office we find names that were familiar in Hamilton when this Muser was a lad. The Gore Bank, A. Steven, cashier, advertised its annual meeting for the election of directors. Wm. Robinson combined with the business of barbering, the dyeing and scouring of silk, cotton and woolen apparel. Very few men patronized the barber sixty years except once or twice a year to get a hair cut: nearly every man was his own shaver. W. & R. Roy & Co. announced the daily arrival of staple and fancy dry goods. J. Patterson begged to inform the inhabitants of Hamilton and surrounding country that he had purchased the Hamilton brewery; and Terry Branigan had just commenced bread and biscuit baking. Snowden & Middlewood announced to the residents of Hamilton, Dundas, Ancaster, Nelson, Beamsville, Grimsby, Brantford, etc., that they were prepared to supply pure malt liquors from the Spring brewery. John Kenndy kept a grocery store on upper John street; Samuel Dynes offered to sell the Stoney Creek mills, with two runs of stones and 63 acres of land attached. Joseph Mills, hatter and furrier, had just moved to a new stone building on King street, opposite Press’ hotel. “Dr. O’Reilly has removed to the new brick house, corner of King and Mary streets, a few doors east of Messrs. Buchanan, Harris & Co’s wholesale establishment.” R. A. Duggan, Beasley & Burton, and F. H. Kirkpatrick were the three leading law firms that advertised. Dr. J. M. Hunter had his office on King street. S. Garner’s marble and stone works was on Main street. John Ryckman was the coroner. The steamer Eclipse, Capt. John Gordon, left Hamilton every morning at seven o’clock, and, returning, left Toronto at three o’clock in the afternoon. The steamer Admiral made semi-weekly trips from Hamilton to Oswego, touching Wellington Square every Wednesday morning, weather permitting.

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          It is like passing through a graveyard and reading the names on the tombstones to read the advertisements in the old-time newspaper. Half a century ago, many of those mentioned were active in the business life of Hamilton. Today but few remember that such men lived. We will close this review of the old Gazette by copying a few verses from its columns, entitled, Why Do the Flowers Bloom?

          “Why do the flow’rets bloom, mother,

             Why do the sweet flowers bloom,

           And brightest those we rear’d, mother,

             Around my Brother’s tomb?”

          “To fill the world with gladness,

             My child, were flow’rets given –

           To crown the earth with beauty;

             And show the road to heaven.”

          “The why do the flow’rets fade, mother,

             Why do the sweet flowers fade,

           When winter’s dreary clouds, mother,

             Earth’s brightest scenes pervade?”

          “My child, those flowers that wither,

             Have seeds that still remain,

           That the sunshine and the summer

             Restore to life again.”

          “And shall not those who die, mother,

             Come back to live once more,

           E’en as the rain and sun, mother,

             Those beauteous flowers restore?”

          “Yes, yes, my child, such powers

             To human flowers are given,

           Here earth’s frail flowers may blossom,

             But we may rise in heaven.”