File:The poetical works of Edwin Oscar Gale (1906) (14757216966).jpg

Identifier: poeticalworksofe00ingale (find matches)
Title: The poetical works of Edwin Oscar Gale
Year: 1906 (1900s)
Authors: Gale, Edwin Oscar, 1832-1916
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Publisher: Chicago : Press of Marshall-Jackson Company
Contributing Library: Lincoln Financial Foundation Collection
Digitizing Sponsor: The Institute of Museum and Library Services through an Indiana State Library LSTA Grant

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receives. If who gives to the poor, only lends to the Lord,The giver, in giving receives the reward.Who aids but to bless, not for human applause,Always blesses himself, though unnoticed the cause, 261 God heareth the poor, and He answers their call:The blessings invoked on deserving heads fall.Yes, the prayers of the poor are not offered in vain,While what we give freely is all we retain. July 8, 1883. THE ORIGIN OF THE VIOLIN Dedicated to Miss Daisy Folk. Beneath a spreading maple tree Beside the Tieino, Which links the lake Maggiore With stately flowing Po, The young and old of Lombardy Were wont in varied mood To join in pastimes innocent; Save when, in robe and hood, The priest would bring his peasant flock Unto its hallowed shrine To render praise, or in distress To plead for aid Divine. The young in sports one day had spent, The aged looking on. When shadows lengthened in the grove. Proclaiming day most gone, A sudden storm swept down the lake. Dark clouds the sky oercast, 262
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Gaspardos were no vandal hands,By priest absolved from sin— And frightened peasants neath the tree Sought shelter from the blast. But Jove his lightnings hurled to earth, The monarch prostrate crushed. The groans of helpless sufferers, By Death released, were hushed. In every home this woe was felt Through all the region round; Grief stilled each voice, save when lament Gave utterance to sound. The dead were tenderly interred; The maimed received such care As loving hands with skill bestow When age the balms prepare. The heart of one especially Was prostrated by woe:— Moaned day and night beside the tree, Gaspardo di Salo. Bowed down with grief, he from the tree Took note of sighing wind, And thought at times he voices caught The loved had left behind. With prayer and penitence he hoped In some way he might be Interpreter of those strange sounds Proceeding from the tree. His prayers were heard. His months of toil With holy impulse fired 263 Brought unto him from realms above What

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