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Father's DayEditors Note Another masterpiece from the bard of Sulphur Draw was delivered to us this week According to the note accompamng the work the poem first appeared in the 1915 edition of Slang-Jang, the Honey Grove High School Annual It seems especially apropriate for Father s Day.)TO DAD By FRANKLIN Y. MARTINDid chap from whom I heir my name,Old Dad, on whom I must confessHas never hung the robe of Fame,You are a king and nothing less!Ah, true no diadem ablaze With gems upon your brow is found.But why should that deny you praise?The noblest kings are those uncrowned.1 know your language is ill-wrought—Not cultured — but you must recallTis not the language, but the thought, That counts the most. Dad, after all.Your hands are callous, (yet the hand Of Mozart was a living rasp);But toil has made them honest, and No friendship can distrust their claspYou smoke, but if the pipe-born cloud That drapes you, bondman of the weed,Is to the pains of Life a shroud —Who can condemn you for your deed9And grander far than marble heap That rears itself into the cloud.Is the deathless love of those who weep Your last departure by your shroudYes, you are human — just a man;Then you are faulty, same as we,For none live faultless and none can — Save Him, the Prince of Galilee
Newspaper Details
Lamesa Press Reporter
Lamesa, Texas, US
Sun, Jun 17, 1973
Page 2
Full Page
Clipped by
Anonymous
USA 11 Jan 2019
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