Michiganensian. [1900]

Eden.
T. M. MARSHALL.
tHE minstrel sung of a time as old
As the first great dawn of day,
Of the time when men knew not of gold,
And nobody worked for pay.
Oh that was the time ere the birth of kings,
When man was the forest god,
And a gem was only a pretty stone
That the sunlight lit in the sod.
The minstrel sung of the birth of love
And its twin, the ugly hate,
And they clutched each one the other tight,
And the union man called fate.
And things of earth from the things of use
Turned into the bart of men,
And man's domain o'er the wealth of earth
Glimmered and vanished then.
Oh ye who work for the love of gold,
And not for the joy of toil,
Look back to the time when the great of earth
Were the sons of the hardy soil.
Look back to the birth of the human kind,
Look back to the first great dawn,
And catch a glimpse of the peace of life
That to thee has bowed and gone.