DEWEY MUNAS, JR.
NED VAN GOSEN
I cannot say, and I will not say
That he is dead. He is just away!
With a cheery smile and a wave of the hand,
He has wandered into an unknown land.
And left Us dreaming how very fair
It needs must be, since he lingers there.
And you --oh you, who the wildest yearn
For the old time step and the glad return--
Think of him faring on, as dear
In the love of There as the love Of Here;
And loyal still, as he gave the blows
Of his warrior strength to his country's foes--
Mild and gentle, as lie was brave,
When the sweetest love of his life he gave
To simple things; where the violets grew
Pure as the eyes they were likened to,
The touches of his hands have strayed
As reverently as his Eps have prayed;
When the little brown thrush that harshly chirred
Was dear to him as the mocking-bird;
And he pitied as much as a man in pain
A writhing honey-bee wet with rain.
Think of him still as the same, I say:
He is not dead - he is just - away!
-James Whitcomb Riley.
TIE P. MILLER
EARL R. GIBSON
FLOYD W. ABEREGG
CHARLES VERNON BROWN
MARION GLEN WINGROVE