274 W. W. FIDLER

The temples of youth are decaying

In Beulah, the beautiful vale, While life has been wearily straying

Away from its radiant pale To the waters of Marah, all sobbing,

The sorrow of desolate years. The sorrow and tremulous throbbing

Of hopes that have darkened to fears. "Forever, forever, forever!" Is the song of a dolorous river

The wail of the river of tears.

Where mountains in desolate places

Are crouching, bare-kneed, in the sand, Hoary sphinxes, with mystical faces,

Wide gazing in revery grand ; The garlands I twine by the river

Are fillets of flame on my brow, And the crystalline chime of Forever

Is the dirge of Elysium now. "Forever, forever, forever!" Was the chant of the musical river,

That sang me a treacherous vow,

There's an odor of death in the flowers

That droop in this chaplet of mine, Believe me, in sunnier hours

They breathed an aroma divine ! And so I shall wear them forever,

Unlovely endearments of death, As I turn with sick lips and a shiver

From love's indestructible wraith. "Forever, forever, forever!" O sing to me, shadowy river.

And heal the old sorrows of faith."

Appreciation of Simpson's genius was not wholly wanting even from the beginning. "Ad Willamettam," when first published, received the valuable endorsement of Calvin B.