To Professor Evan Stephens
(From one of the Friends)

By L. Lula Greene Richards

Our Father approves of the step you now take,
To withdraw from the tedious grind
So long and so faithfully borne for His sake
And the uplift of all human kind.
It is well ere the life thread is snapped to retire
From your public career, out of sight,
Where “The Spirit of God” may still burn “like a fire,”
And scintillate pure, living light.

Your works form a monument noble and grant,
Self-erected while yet you were young;
Your music and words found in every land
Are eagerly caught, played and sung.
Though that pillar of light will not fall or be paled,
Yet higher its beacon you’ll raise;
Though your rich, mellow voice for a time may have failed,
Still your brain and your heart are ablaze.

But let not their fire burn too rapidly now,
Let them smolder a time and take rest,
That Father your soul may more richly endow,
And give you, in season, new zest.
The sons and the daughters of Zion so long
You have sung for and tutored so well,
Her old and her young in the spirit of song,
Are known far and wide to excel.

Your “Utah, we love thee!” the brave “Mormon boy,”
Your “True to the Faith,” and all those,
“The mountains and valleys shout, ringing with joy,”
While the heart with thanksgiving o’erflows.
Should your singers stop singing, your friends cease to smile
Because you so weary have grown
That of need, not from choice, you must rest for awhile?
No! Our smiles and our love are your own.

Let them soothingly nourish the seed which shall spring
Into life from your soul full and free;
And, as our children’s children to prophets shall sing,
So “We ever pray for thee.”
We shall miss you at “Conference,” so long you have led
Those heart songs in which we all join;
But though younger singers shall lead us instead,
Yet none would your laurels purloin.

Dear brother and leader, companion and friend,
To your message our hearts all respond:
Yes, our songs and our love shall more perfectly blend,
Both here and in life yet beyond.
This crude, small bouquet which I throw as I pass,
Speaks for thousands and thousands the same;
Congregations of Israel assembled en masse
Would each answer, “Please add my name.

(1916)