A Poetic Tribute
By Bertha Kramer, 1927
There are villages in every land,
They are nestled by the seas,
They are dotted o’er the grassy plain
Or kissed by mountain breeze.
But the village of all to me most dear
Is the one on the Old St. Joe
In the grandest state of the union,
Our glorious Ohio.
Its streets are broad and the maple trees,
That line both sides of the way,
Are emblems of grace and beauty
As in the breeze they play.
And the water of life that courses through
The veins of its sandy soil
Excells [sic] any nectar the gods may pour
To quicken the weary for toil.
And our little town has sent out men
Who have done their bit in the strife,
Whether they lived and served mankind
Or followed the drum and the fife.
And I think as I gaze on the wood-fringed banks,
With limbs reaching up to the sky,
Of the message the river brings to all
Who would read as they’re passing by.
For it whispers, “As I am flowing
Ever onward toward the sea
So your life is swiftly fleeting
Toward the great eternity.”
“As my waters kiss the rootlets
Giving strength as on I flow,
So your life should give in passing
To your fellow men below.”
Then may Edgerton live and flourish,
May the children to whom she gave birth
Ever strive to make this dear old town the best little spot on the earth.
- Edgerton: Our Home Town Yours and Mine