Page:History of Oregon Literature.djvu/340

And only the wolf-haunted silence to hear them,
 They moaned as they slept under gold-flowered skies.

And so, day by day, with horizons slow-lifting
Like mists that were clearing, like hopes that were drifting,
 They gave all their might to the yokes and the chains;
With hunger and thirst and the driver's keen scourging
(As if duty embodied should need such harsh urging!)
 They bore the state-builders o'er mountains and plains.

And lo, when the rugged Cascades were descended,
They hauled the great logs for the homes they defended
 Who founded this emerald empire of ours;
And, glad of the greenness of nature surrounding,
Of a region with rivers and forests abounding,
 They drew the first plows through wild tangles of flowers.

And so, pioneers, when at your next meeting
Your thinned ranks assemble for good-bye and greeting,
 And dimmed eyes are moistened with thoughts of the past,
Let the ox be remembered, the patient, enduring,
True servant of fortune to you so alluring—
 Let the ox be remembered, his service held fast.

Ah, what were the labors of Hercules, storied,
That far-reaching myth in which nations have gloried,
 To the toils of the ox in all ages and lands?
And so, pioneers, when at your next meeting
Some will give the good-bye as they give the glad greeting,
 Let his work be recalled with a clasping of hands.