Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/440

 JONATHAN W. GORDON. Jonathan "W. Gordon was born August thirteenth, 1820. His father, William Gordon, was an Irish laboi'er, who emigrated to the United States in 1790, and settled in Washington county, Pennsylvania, where, August eighteenth, 1795, he married Sarah Walton, a native of Virginia, by whom he had fourteen children, of which the subject of this notice is the thirteenth. The father migrated westward with his fami- ly in the spring of 1835, and settled in Ripley county, Indiana, where he resided until the time of his death, January twentieth, 1841. His wife survived him, until May twenty-ninth, 1857, when she died at the residence of her youngest daughter. In the mean time, the subject of this sketch married Miss Catherine J. Overturf, April third, 1843 ; entered upon the practice of the law, February twenty-seventh, 1844; went to Mexico June ninth, 1846, as a volunteer in the third Regiment of Indiana Volunteers ; lost his health, and upon his return studied medicine, on account of hem- orrhage from the lungs; received the degree of M.D., 1851 ; removed to Indianap- olis, and resumed the practice of the law in May, 1852. He was elected a member of the House of Representatives by the people of Marion county, in 1856, and again in 1858 ; and, during the latter term, was twice chosen Speaker of that House. A SONG FOR NEW YEARS. Again I hail the blessed morn That brings to all another year: A smile for some, for some a tear, But hope for all to-day is born. And joy — the quenchless light of mind — That forward springs, disdaining rest. And seeks, beyond earth's good, the best. The True — the Beautiful — to find. Wherever man is found, is found The joy of hope — the spirit's guide Amid the wrecks of time and tide — His pilot o'er life's stormy sound. And the dreams of earth are gone, And shadows cloud his mortal eye ; This hope shall catch new light, and high On Godward wing still bear him on. The soul's ideal:— "Better still!" With conscious force that goal to win, Shall free it yet from stain of sin And all that here hath worked it ill. In this, within the soul is found The proof that it shall never die; 'Tis brother of eternity — To an eternal progress bound; For countless ages cannot grant A good that can no better know; Nor e'en the best its wish o'erflow, And sate, at once, its sateless want. This want of soul for fields untrod, Tliis earnest search for clearer light, ( 424 )