"Holyoke"
by Rachel Louise Clark
They come, those sturdy Frenchmen,
From Canada, so fair.
Their dear ones all are with them,
They have a courage rare.
They earn their place bought dearly,
We mark their progress clearly,
And welcome them sincerely,
For they're the ones who dare!
And Ireland sends her portion
Of youths and maidens strong.
Fearless they cross the ocean
Though partings may be long.
In Holyoke find their chances
To toil as each one fancies,
And learn, as time advances,
To deal with right and wrong.
Some English people also
Are here with us in town.
They love their homes as all know,
And seek their hearths to crown.
Here, too, the Scotch their bread earn
With courage, strength and will stern,
Though not because their hearts burn
For glory or renown.
And Germans, too, are coming
To live and take their stand
In Holyoke which is humming
With tasks for every hand.
They bring a mind inquiring,
In study they're untiring.
We cannot help admiring
This intellectual band.
We count among our number
Some Swedish people, too.
They never seem to slumber
And much to them is due.
The Poles here also maintain
Their homes. Nor is their work vain.
We 'most forgot the shy Dane,
Oh! here's a hand to you!
We need the sense of beauty
Brought to us by the Greek.
He feels that art's a duty
And not a service weak.
Th' Italians, quick and fearless,
The Jews, that people peerless,
And others, bright and tearless,
And here a dwelling seek.
Why come these to our city?
Is it some task to shirk
In Home-land? 'Twere a pity
Such ones 'round here should lurk!
Methinks with home ties binding
They come in one thing minding,
For here they know they're finding
God's own best blessing, work.
Our Fathers had a vision
When first the plans they drew
For Holyoke, of one mission
Which we should never rue.
That she should be a mother
To all—And as a brother
We ought to love each other
And to her name be true.
'Twas on us they depended
In making out their plan—
To do all they intended
A task for every man.
The best perfection's our goal—
To seek and cherish each soul
And mould from out the great whole
The true American.
To any chance outsider
This city may seem bound
By brick walls, high and wider
And full of steam and sound.
But they have missed the meaning,
For though the smoke is gleaming
A banner, white and streaming,
Where the word, "Love," is found.
For Holyoke holds our home-ties,
And we, by love bound fast
Shall ever at her name rise
Where'er our lot be cast.
With glimpses toward the future,
Lets work to keep the homes pure,
That Holyoke's name may endure
As long as time shall last.
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© Laurel O'Donnell 1996 - 2005, all rights reserved
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