The Bellefontaine Republican

with gathering years the earth has not grown tame,
In man's firm clasp a mere imprisoned ball.
Though conquering feet have trodden nearly all,
And even the uncharted has received a name;
There still loom heights deserving of man's aim;
Forbidding isles still lie beyond his thrall:
The silent polar doors heed not his call,
And inmost tropic wilds ne'er scarce dare claim.
Yet, when at last the globe is mastered quite,
And prying man has left no inch unscanned.
He still must pause before earth's moods of might
That lift the sea and toss the desert sand,
That set the dread volcano's torch alight
And send strange tremors through the startled land.

-Meredith Nicholson in New York Sun.