The following poetic tribute is by an author unknown in Hannibal and was sent to Postmaster T. B. Morris with a request to hand it to the Hannibal papers. Mr. Anderson gives his address as 1036 State street, East St. Louis, Ill.:
Strong Western Sun, break through that Pull of black
With all your grief you can not call him back!
Be calm, old river, do not sob so sore
While you-today flow by Missouri's shore.
Lift up your head, you willows, do not weep;
Our friends was weary here and needed sleep.
Take off those veils of snow, you shivering flowers.
Mark Twain can never die; he still is ours.
And we will build for him a lofty shrine.
The first and fairest on our Western Rhine.
So beacon-high that it shall shine afar.
And guide the river pilots like a star.
They should have brought him home where he could lie.
And hear the Mississippi murmur by.
His slumber would be sweeter in the West.
For he belonged to us--we loved him best.