Milton Brown 1822 - 1917

Milton Brown 1822 – 1917 I knew C. W. Harvey. Knew him and liked him. I lived on the first floor of his Greenleaf Hotel By Bailey Street. Lived and thrived on the flowered verandah. Sipped lemonade and gummed soft bread In the swank dining room. Talked and listened into the long afternoons With the fine folks from Illinois and Iowa. Most of the time, I rocked and thought back, And I remembered fondly The old times in the trackless wilderness, Seeking a permanent woman and a permanent home. I found both with a pair of leather boots, a spade and a torn Bible. Ye Kings and Princes of the Earth! And to all the rich and the powerful: “What doth it profit a man To gain the whole world And lose his own soul?” We are truly nothing. As nothing as the still wind. As worthless as the dirt That presently covers my still bones. Yes, I knew C.W. Harvey. Knew him and liked him. He was the richest man in town when I arrived here. And yet, He taught me humility and dignity. Lessons learned with a kind word And a daily tip of his derby hat. And after my passing into the eternal night, He honored me with a kind eulogy at my burial Here in Artilissa’s flower yard. My forever resting place Under these countless stars!