Page 20-- SUSQUEHANNA BULLETIN “> FRONT STREET (Marietta, Pa.) Mile-long and kindred to the river shore, It stretches fairly for the eye to see How well the years have lent the charm of yore To veil its face and balk senility It saw the image of the Indian fade; It waved in welcome to the boatman’s hail; It wore the transient robe that progress made, And heard the clank of iron wheel on rail. It knew the warmth of quondam brotherhood When sons of men from vain desire were free, And bore the havoc of the river's flood With stoic imperturbability. Demean its passive aspect if you will, Its attributes have stood the test of time Against whose hest aspersion renders nil To contradict fate’s wordless pantomine. Doubt not with him thereon who lightly goes, For it beyond all mortal span shall last When we who flourish now shall be of those Whose footprints mark the pavement of the past. Poems and Sonnets Saga of the Susquehanna by Chester Wittell THE OLD RAILROAD STATION (At Mount Joy, Pa.) Deserted and forsaken, like to one By fellowmen abandoned and ignored, It stands - secluded, empty and alone, To bide with desuetude in frail accord. Scorned by the brazen trains that hurry past, It seems to look afar with wistful gaze, In dreams of silent wonder that outlast The quondam glory of forgotten days, When friend met friend and many a fond embrace And fervent greeting, merged with smiles and tears, Lighted with joy the long-awaited face, Returning from the lapse of vanished years. June 4, 1975 from Chester Wittell How often festive recreation found A focal point within its friendly shrine, - When to the summer picnic outward bound Duty to relaxation would incline! How cordial was its service! Waiting there, The freighted package, held in brief escrow, Was yours for asking, as the ticket fare For any place that you would want to go. Yet through the limbo of its loneliness Faint spirit voices tell the listening ear Of things that were and shall be none the less When we who flourish now shall disappear. And sometimes when the eerie moon is full, A phantom throng descends its weathered stair, And ghostly whispers fill the midnight lull Of coming trains that pause and vanish there. CHIQUES ROCK Eternal guardian! rising steep and wild Above the canyon of the restless stream,- That lookest down, as in a timeless dream, Upon the flood below - thy ward and child! What cyclopean hand reared thy facade High unto heaven, whére the fleeting cloud Skims white and gleaming, like a spotless shroud On winds blown thither by the breath of God? Above thy crest the eagle wings its flight, And fitful blasts assail thy stony brow. Through storm and calm; by day and starless night Thou lookest down upon the stream below, Where on the rocks and boulders - page on page - Is carved the writ of immemorial age. Like some colossus wrought of ancient stone, Inscrutable, gigantic and supreme, Enthralled forever in an endless dream, Thou sittest grandly on thy lofty throne. Speak, silent one; lift up thy voice and say Who sculptored thee - and what secret, never told, Thy silent lips in memory enfold, And shall till even time has passed away. Or maybe time, to whom all things are known, In endless contemplation here alone - A witness, wrought by His almighty hand That guides the stars and shall forever be Beyond all time unto eternity. Has made a truce with thee that thou might’st stand WILDCAT FALLS Deep in the bosom of the towering hills, Lonely, forsaken, from the world away, It lies - a little bosky glen where day Knows twilight and a silvery cascade spills Downward from step to mossy step and fills The drowsy air with mist of diamond spray. There sportive Naiads in the winter play, And sweetly from the wood the songbird trills Its plaintive lay; and if your breath you bate To probe the brooding silence, you may hear The Dryads in the drooping hemlocks prate; Or - further where the torrent frets and foams - All inarticulate, yet quaint and clear, The elfin babble of the frolic gnomes. fad ada aa Seb ¥ X a ie oil EL EET TT TR ETRE
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