How every word of that first pledge To the letter was fulfilled; How his bright mind grasped light and truth, Until the Seer was killed. How God the Father, and Christ the Son, Talked face to face with him; How Peter, James and John--anointed ones, Were sent by Eloheim To lay their lands on Joseph's head, The priesthood to restore; How Moses and Elias came with keys They held in days of yore. Moroni, the Nephite Prophet, came In robes of spotless white, Talked with the boy of hidden things, From eve till morning light. We talk of teachers learned and wise, Of pupils, apt and bright; But never by man was mortal taught As Joseph was that night! History of nations, long since dead, Were revealed to him so plain That he in language strong and clear, Could make them live again. He learned the solar system's laws, And measured Kolob's time-- That God, of matter formed the worlds That now in splendor shine. That man, now mortal, is Jehovah's child-- A birthright, endless and grand, The crown of glory, in heaven, is this: To be an exalted man. These were the paths the young man trod-- That was the glorious aim, To pierce the skies, commune with God, Eternal life to gain. BRIGHAM YOUNG'S ONE HUNDREDTH BIRTHDAY. Our multitude of little ones, Dear precious souls, so bright and gay-- So full of life and harmless fun, In neat attire, together come And shout aloud, "'Tis first of June, And we have come to sing a tune In memory of the natal day Of Israel's chieftain, Brigham Young." "Teacher," they cry, with faces all aglow With life and joy, "we wish to know More of the life, the acts, the worth Of that great man who came to earth One hundred years ago." "Well, children, I have heard my father say That Brigham came upon a 'blusterous day.' The June sun rose so bright and clear, But soon a change came o'er the atmosphere. Dark clouds went scurrying through the sky-- And shrieking gusts and moaning sigh Gave warning of a coming storm That filled the people with alarm-- The elements ceased not their war Until the day had gone afar Toward the setting of the sun. But e'er old Sol his race had run, A wondrous change again had come; And all was bright, serene and calm When Brigham Young was born-- At night within that humble home, Rest and peace to all had come.