'Twas the foreshadow of that great man's life-- At baptism commenced the bitter strife; The sneer and scoff of sectarian hate Increased to town, to county, and to state. Armed and legalized mobs were soon in line Against the God-sent prophet of modern times; And gifted men, once active in the cause, Turned traitor to the kingdom and its laws; But Brigham's knees ne'er trembled in that hour, Defending Joseph with all his might and power. First at Far West, the storm in fury raged, And Zion's leaders in chains were caged; For six long months they wore the galling chains; In dismal dungeons their weary limbs had lain. And Clark's militia mob despoiled the Saints, Till e'en the strongest faith seemed faint; Then Brigham showed the temper of his soul-- Leader born, and warrior bold. He rallied the scattering sheep, led them to pastures new, Till Joseph came, and founded fair Nauvoo. 'Twas in those years of toil and strife, and sin, That Joseph learned to trust in him, And pointed the path the Saints should tread When Joseph and Hyrum would be dead. At last the storm in fury broke At Carthage jail, with cruel stroke, Joseph and Hyrum both were slain-- The Church had lost its head again. Then Brigham's lion heart was seen-- With master mind he spanned the stream, And led the bleeding Saints to Utah's inland sea, And planted them in liberty, In valleys sheltered by lofty snow-capped domes, Where God has smiled upon their homes. And then he brought the poor from every land And made a strong united band; Taught them how to till the soil, Taught them peace--to cease turmoil; Taught them to give a helping hand To every soul throughout their land. He taught our children to be kind And pure, and truthful, and refined. And God so blessed the work thus done, That millions loved the name of Brigham Young. MARY'S BIRTHDAY. Mary Y. Roberts--dear May, This is a warm, beautiful winter day, And your mother says it's your birthday; That forty years ago, precisely at dinner time, Your earthly life began to shine, Such a tiny, faint little glimmer-- A mere dot, a spark dropped from above. From the mystic, boundless ocean of love, The mother, and Giver of all creation; We were waiting, looking, and praying for you; We wanted you, yet we hardly knew How to prepare properly for your reception. But your mother did the best she could, And with Aunt Marinda's help so clever, And with your grandpa, kind and good, They nursed the little feeble flame To life; helped it gain courage to remain, And it became a source of joy forever.