Poem
Poem, written by Anne Campbell, for Robert Oakman's seventy-fifth birthday, on August 21, 1935. The poem is printed on heavy paper with a decorative border along the left edge of the text and decorative font at the beginning of each of the three verses. The rest of the text is handwritten in black ink. The text of the poem is as follows:
"He has grown old the way a tree grows old,
Sending deep roots into his native soil.
His kindly deeds the whole world may behold.
Our city hears his mark of honest toil.
For like a broad green ribbon in the sun
Winds the fair boulevard that bears his name,
And countless happy, healthy children run
On lovely grounds that give him lasting fame.
Great factories have grown because of him.
In politics his was a master's touch.
He ever saw beyond the day's bright rim,
And visioning the future, ventured much.
He knew the problems of the humblest ones,
And many bless him gratefully today.
Some of our city's noble, stalwart sons
Are so because he helped them on their way.
He sits upon his yacht at evening now,
And sees the skyline in the changing blue
And gold of sunset...Silver crowns his brow.
His hand is steady and his heart is true.
His youth still shines in eyes that gaze upon
The city where he played so great a part;
And when this grand old citizen is gone,
Detroit will hold his valiant beating heart."
