Relief Mine II - Through Others' Eyes, by Ogden Kraut
Excerpt from Chapter 9, "A Relief Mine Story", by Jesse L. Young
While teaching school in Fairview, I heard that John H. Koyle had been visited by the three immortal Nephites, one of whom gave him a mission from the Lord to open a rich gold mine. It had once been operated by the ancient Nephites until they became so wicked that the Lord took it from them and destroyed them.
The following poem, given to Afton Waters while he was working in the mine in Eureka, tells the reason why. An angel came to Brother Waters one night and gave him this sacred bit of history:
The Portal Guard
By Afton Waters
I stood at the open portal
of a tunnel peculiarly grand,
And the patience required in its digging
was famed through all the land.
And one of an ancient nation
stood guard at the entry there;
Hallowed though stern was his visage,
snow white were his beard and hair.
With a guide I entered the tunnel
its cavernous depths to explore;
And as we hastened forward,
I felt as I never had felt before.
For I knew there was perfect safety
and that I had nothing to fear,
For those with motives untainted
were protected in working there.
Near a winze at the end of the tunnel
stood another of solemn mien;
Stern visaged and armed with saber
as he at the portal had been.
And as we passed onward and downward,
each landing was guarded the same,
Until with curious motives prompted
I asked, "Friend, what is thy name?"
"And why dost thou and thy brother
stand guard at these workings old?
Perhaps in the depths below us
are uncounted treasures of gold?"
To my query he thus made answer,
"Son of earth, thou hast rightly said:
For I and my brothers are remnants
of a nation long since dead.
"Ages gone, when we dwelt among mortals,
these mountains were teeming with wealth,
And the Father was granting our people
peace, wisdom, great riches and health.
"In the pride of their hearts, they forsook Him
and worshipped but mammon alone,
Til their sins reached upward to heaven
and earth `neath corruption did groan.
"`Twas then that the spirit ceased striving
and left them to darkness once more,
For every man's hand smote his neighbor
and destruction was rapid and sure.
"And then when the Master was dying,
and earth `neath convulsions did lie,
The wealth in these mountains was hidden
from an evil and covetous eye.
"The wealth in these mountains of Ephraim,
thus saith the Father, is mine,
And all who partake of its fatness,
I own it by right most divine.
"This then is preserved for a people
prepared to accomplish His will--
The wealth which the Father hath hidden
beneath this once notable hill.
"We are guarding the wealth and the worker,
that corruption shall not allure,
The toiler who enters this tunnel
with motives unselfish and pure.
"But the Father's purposes will ripen
though derision and scoffers abound,
And coming from sources unthought of,
dark clouds hover closely around."
I awoke from my sleep and my dreaming
and sought my companion again,
But naught could I see but the mountain
and the place where my visit had been.
But I knew that the wealth that was hidden
from a nation now under the sod,
Must be used as the prophet hath bidden
for the glorification of God.
Brother Waters thought he was to open and work this mine, but he got no direction as to where and how to find it till one day while in Spanish Fork someone asked him to go to the annual Dream Mine meeting that was being held on the hill that day. He went gladly. When he saw the mine tunnel, he was greatly surprised and thrilled, for it was the very thing the messenger had shown him in the dream. He took the poem out of his pocket, handed it to Bishop Koyle and said, "Here Bishop, this belongs to you. It's your work and mission to bring relief to the people in time of great need and trouble."
Bishop Koyle gladly received the wonderful new testimony to the divinity of his great mission and work.
The excerpt came from the book, "Relief Mine II", and can be purchased at OgdenKraut.com
The Good Bishop
By an unbeliever
Chapter 12
Bishop Koyle's Dream Mine Prophecies
By Lyman S. Wood
This pamphlet, which in part contains the poem below, was published probably in the late 1960's. It was dedicated to J. Golden Kimball, who was Bishop Koyle's Mission President in Tennessee in about 1888.
Down south on Leland soil
There lived a man by the name of Koyle
Who had a dream, so I've been told
About a mine all rich in gold.
This gold is not for tax and bounty
But for the building up of Jackson County.
Bishop Koyle's 80th Birthday Tribute
By Virginia Lindsay Thomander
August 14, 1944
The roof was made of willows—
The floor was made of earth
Where eighty years ago today
This great man had his birth.
Throughout the days of childhood,
Evil forces lurked nearby
In an effort to destroy him,
But a Power from on high
Kept him safe--his footsteps guided
While he grew from child to man,
As his life was very precious
To the great Eternal Plan.
For his daily bread he struggled,
And his earthly goods were few:
But his faith and honest effort
Proved his heart was staunch and true.
Thirty years had passed away
When one night he had a dream,
And a Messenger imparted
Unto him a task supreme.
While he took him through a mountain
Which was precious, sacred ground
And he showed him all the places
Where rich treasures did abound.
Then he gave him much instruction:
Where to work, and how to mine,
And convinced this man we honor
That his mission was divine....
Twenty years he worked and labored—
Then, one January night
From deep sleep he was awakened,
In his room there came a light
And two Messengers stood by him,
While the taller of the two
Spoke to him in careful detail
Of the work he was to do.
For two long hours he listened,
Sitting upright in his bed;
He was told about the dreams he dreamed—
How he was being led
By Higher Powers than his own,
On each step of the way....
They told him they would guard this Hill
Until that glorious day
When these rich treasures should come forth
According to the Plan
To bring relief, and untold worth,
And benefit to man.
Now fifty years have passed away
The road's been rough and long,
The persecutions many—
Yet still he presses on:
Though Church, and State and Nation
Have assailed him left and right
And evil forces threatened
To destroy--"Put out his light,"
He has never lost his courage—
He's been honest, loyal and true,
For he knows with all his heart and soul
That God will see him through!
Victory Shout
By Carter Grant
There was tumult on the hillside
Near that quaint old Salem town.
And the canyons thronged with people
Climbing restless up and down.
Crowds were jostling in the highways,
For strange news was sped along.
And wild anguish gripped their faces
With emotions deep and strong.
Like the thunder clouds of summer
Bursting on this rugged mount,
So this surging mass of humans
Beat upon this fortress stout.
Stamped upon this mineral mountain,
Grasped its shaggy acorn boughs,
Cursed the days of past probation,
Cried their discontented vows.
Yea, the mingling of those voices
Rumbled deep in rabble throng
'Til you'd thought a million humans
Cried their indignations strong,
Moaning, "Master of these riches,
Hark! Oh see, we've come at last!
Hands uplifted, beseeching, weeping!
Drop some hope for us to grasp!"
So they struggled up the mountain,
Men and women, rough and mild.
Thronged about a guarded tunnel,
Noisy with vexation wild.
Then a form strode out that portal,
Speaking hope for those in dread.
"Friends, like Joseph betrayed in Egypt.
I give my word, you shall be fed.
"It was shown me years ago, folks,
How you'd rush this hill in grief,
Bowing, seeking, as you now do,
Asking, praying for relief.
Yes, I saw you, bold and eager,
Saw you swarming in this flock,
Saw you storm our mountain fortress
Begging feverishly for stock.
"It's too late, friends. There's none for you!
We would help you if we could;
But the books are sealed and fastened.
We're but doing as we should.
For I was told that when
The values burst forth so grand,
That no stock should then
Be given into unbeliever's hand.
"But listen! I've a word of comfort,
Even though you've gossiped loud,
Ridiculed our every effort,
Til our heads with sorrow bowed.
We shall aid you from our storehouse,
Though our stock we dare not share;
Doing daily turns of kindness,
For no malice do we bear,"
How they sorrowed loud in mourning!
How they wished they'd understood;
Listening not to the mine's defamers,
But securing stock as best they could;
Helping with their mites the workmen,
Opening ancient treasure sand.
They would now be shouting "VICTORY!"
In our Celebration Grand!
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