THE CENTENNIAL ODE.
BY J. M. HARDING.
Columbia's pride, Ohio, grand and fair,
Where wealth and beauty are beyond
compare,
Where labor, truth and knowledge have
control,
Thy name is peer upon the honor roll.
Ohio, first-born of the great Northwest,
Nursed to thy statehood at the Nation's
breast
And taught wisdom of the Ordinance Rule-
No slav'ry chain but e'er the public
school,
Ohio, name for what is good and grand,
With pride we hail thee as our native
land;
With jealous pride we sing our heartfelt
lay
To laud thy name, this first Centennial
Day.
One hundred years and half as many more
Ago, from ripples on proud Erie's shore
Far to the south where, beautiful and
grand,
The placid river's wave kissed untrod
sand,
The dusky twilight of the forest old
Concealed the native Indian, wild and
bold.
Within the awe of that primeval wood
The white-skin captive, pining, lonely
stood
And longed to lift the prison veil to
roam
From savag'ry to join dear ones at home.
Here lived the greatest, noblest Indian
men,
Retreating from their Eastern glade and
glen,
They crossed the River, called this land
their own
And hoped to hunt and fish and live
alone.
Here came another Race. The renegade,
The scout, the trapper, followed each
his trade.
Here, too, the priest and bishop, with
sad face,
Converted souls, built missions,
"Tents of Grace."
But they are gone. The annals of the
strife
That brought to one race death, another
life,
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