". . . What once only existed in the dreams of the young bard's imagination, and took the shape and form of impassioned song, has now become, after the lapse of years, a palpable reality. In all truth the doggerel, which, by common courtesy may be dignified by the appellation of 'poetry', was indited in a serio-comic style, and reads much more like a satire than a sincere prediction; nevertheless, the poet has, thoughtlessly or otherwise, written himself down a gen- uine prophet. After encountering almost numberless impediments,... the project of constructing a bridge is now, virtually, an accom- plished fact. ..." Stephen Maybelle, whom Minnie Myrtle Miller called the labor- er-poet in her verses to him previously quoted, was a painter by trade. "The Willamette Bridge" was first printed as a pamphlet. He brought the manuscript to George H. Himes and talked about getting it printed but said he had no money. Mr. Himes said that was all right and arranged for the poet to paint a sign for his shop in exchange. He does not remember the exact date but others refer to its first publication as having been in 1870, confirmed by the state- ment "more than 16 years ago" made by the West Shore in 1887. Stephen Maybelle married the daughter of a woman who conducted one of the well-known dance halls of that time. He later moved to San Francisco and was connected with labor agitations in that city. Behind the pines had sunk the sun, And darkness hung o'er Oregon, When on the banks o' Willamette A youth was seen to set and set, And set and sing unto the moon A wild, yet sweet, pathetic tune— "They're going to build, I feel it, yet, A bridge across the Willamette." The flat boat drifted slowly o'er And reached, at last, the other shore; The captain—brave, courageous soul— Fished her to land with fishing pole. When hark! from o'er the waves a strain— That youth! that voice! that wild refrain— "They're going to build, I feel it, yet, A bridge across the Willamette." Dark grew the night, the south wind blew,
