Frank L. Stanton.

A poem by George W. Doneghy


The sweetest music put in song since Robby Burns's time
Is that which breathes its harmony from Georgia's sunny clime,
Where the fragrant-scented odor that the climbing jasmine flings
Commingles with the melody that gifted Stanton sings!


It may not suit a bookish clan that cannot understand
The rhythm and the cadences they never can command--
But what is that to him that knows and touches all the strings
Of hearts responsive to his strain when gifted Stanton sings?


We read his songs and hear the notes repeated once again
His ear has caught when listening to the mocking-bird's refrain,
And interwoven with the sense a mystic something rings
That fills the soul with ecstasy when gifted Stanton sings!


O Sunny South! where blooming flowers and where the whispering pine
Attunes his harp till every string gives forth a sound divine!
We love you for the many gifts that generous Nature brings,
But best of all--we love you for the song that Stanton sings!

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