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GLEAMS AND DREAMS 
 
Gleams and Dreams 
 
 A BOOK OF VERSE 
 
 By 
 
 REUBEN GOLDSMITH 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 JAMES T. WHITE & CO. 
 
 1918 
 
^ 
 
 
 ACKNOWLEDGMENT 
 The author is indebted to the Editors of 
 Munsey's Magazine, The Boston Transcript, 
 Snappy Stories, The Humanitarian, The New 
 York Times, The American Hebrew, The 
 American Israelite and The Brooklyn Daily 
 Eagle for permission to include in this little 
 volume poems which originally appeared in 
 those publications. 
 
 COPYRIGHTED 1918 BY 
 JAMES T. WHITE & CO. 
 
 FEB -8 1919 
 ©CU511573 
 
DEDICATION 
 
 I DEDICATE THIS BOOK TO EVERY HEART 
 RESPONSIVE, IN SOME MEASURE, TO MY ART. 
 
 THE AUTHOR 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Gleams and Dreams 9 
 
 salutation io 
 
 a prayer ii 
 
 summer morn 13 
 
 on the heights 14 
 
 the spirit of the strife 16 
 
 A CHILD TO HER DOLL 18 
 
 ALONE 20 
 
 vagrant thoughts 21 
 
 would that i were equity ! 22 
 
 from elfin lips 23 
 
 god's face 24 
 
 i never knew 2$ 
 
 a veteran subscribes 26 
 
 happiness 28 
 
 the mystic rune 29 
 
 hail, america 30 
 
 nocturne . 32 
 
 the ides of april, 1918 , 33 
 
 visitors 34 
 
 the islands of the sky 35 
 
 love nestles deep 36 
 
 the counterfeit 37 
 
 the world's a stage 38 
 
 democracy humbled 40 
 
CONTENTS— Continued 
 
 THE PROFITEER \Z 
 
 REGRET 43 
 
 STILL NATURE SMILES 44 
 
 THEIR DREAMS CAME TRUE 45 
 
 THE CARBONIFEROUS AGE 46 
 
 AT THE DEATH-BED OF A FRIEND 48 
 
 SEVEN TYPES 49 
 
 LOVE-LIGHT , 50 
 
 ON AN ANNIVERSARY 51 
 
 TWO PICTURES 52 
 
 ANACHRONISMS 54 
 
 LOVE IS IMMORTAL 55 
 
 FOUND HER OUT 56 
 
 THE CONCRETE MACHINE 57 
 
 ROSETTA AT THE PLAY 58 
 
 THE SYMPOSIUM 60 
 
 UPON THIS TEEMING SPHERE 62 
 
 THE SEASON SISTERS 63 
 
 THE ROAD TO RUE 64 
 
 A PRECEPT 65 
 
 THE BIRDIE-BOAT 66 
 
 AT THE SHRINE 67 
 
 A WISH 68 
 
 WHEN ALL THE WORLD'S AWRY 69 
 
 THE LIBERTY LOAN 70 
 
CONTENTS— Continued 
 
 PEN AND TONGUE 72 
 
 A War Cycle 73 
 
 at last 75 
 
 song of the war 76 
 
 the wraith of washington 78 
 
 DOWN FIFTH AVENUE 80 
 
 THE WAR SUFFERERS 8l 
 
 THE SONG OF THE VOLUNTEER %2 
 
 SERVICE STARS 84 
 
 IN RIGHTEOUSNESS AROUSED 85 
 
 HIS INSTRUMENT 86 
 
 WARILDA 87 
 
 SOME DAY HE WILL RETURN 88 
 
 BELLS AND SIRENS 89 
 
 REFLECTIONS FOLLOWING THE ARMISTICE 90 
 
GLEAMS AND DREAMS 
 
SALUTATION 
 
 WHO pass my well, 
 Pray pause and freely drink; 
 Enter my cell, 
 
 Refresh the soul — and think. 
 
A PRAYER 
 
 Somewhere across the infested sea, 
 Serving the cause of liberty. 
 
 Dear Lord, is my brave son. 
 I know not how he fares tonight, 
 But keep him ever in Thy sight, 
 
 For I have but the one! 
 
 Thou gavest two to bless my life, 
 But one fell early in the strife — 
 
 My first-begotten son. 
 He with his comrades marched away, 
 And then a message came one day. . . 
 
 Dear Lord, I have but one. 
 
 Then, while so sorrowed and bereft, 
 Though only he to me was left, 
 
 I could not say him nay, 
 Who urged that duty bade him go — 
 His country called, he said, and so, 
 
 How could I bid him stay? 
 
 But, O dear Lord, 'tis hard to bear, 
 With not another child to share 
 
 The hearth when day is done. 
 I can but kneel to Thee and pray: 
 
 11 
 
Be with him through the hellish fray 
 And keep Thou safe my son! 
 
 I know the cause is good and true — 
 / know that suffering must ensue 
 
 Before the fight is won. 
 Yet bear with me, Lord, this night; 
 Be Thou my solace in my plight, 
 
 And guard my only son! 
 
 September, 1917 
 
 12 
 
SUMMER MORN 
 
 MYRIAD are the charms of morning 
 As the sun peeps o'er the hill, 
 And the thrush salutes the dawning 
 
 With his rapturous strain and trill; 
 Earth is beamy in her gladness 
 
 When the great awakening light, 
 Dissipating gloom and sadness, 
 
 Wrests the scepter from the night. 
 
 Waste not such an hour in dreaming! 
 
 Rather with light footstep turn 
 Where the limpid drop is gleaming 
 
 On the flower and on the fern; 
 Where the leafy boughs are swaying 
 
 In the fragrant morning air, 
 And the scented wind is saying 
 
 Its diurnal matin prayer. 
 
 There upon the dew-decked altar 
 
 Pour the passion of the soul; 
 Be not niggardly nor palter, 
 
 Lest you offer not the whole; 
 There amid the regnant beauty, 
 
 There upon the jeweled sward, 
 In acknowledgment and duty 
 
 Breathe your thankfulness to God! 
 
 13 
 
ON THE HEIGHTS 
 
 THIS was my dream: 
 In a green and fertile valley 
 I lay somnolent in the shade — 
 While the mountains towered above me. 
 And an Angel appeared and said: 
 "Arise! Go forth! 
 On the wings of Aspiration 
 Soar to the heights! 
 Mount — mount — to where is God!" 
 Forthwith I arose and began the ascent, 
 But slowly — painfully — 
 My unaccustomed limbs so soon fatigued. 
 Yet in due course 
 I stood on a spur of the mountain 
 Peering and peering for God. 
 But about and above me 
 The crags were sheer and high; 
 And the mists of the valley 
 Rose even to where I stood 
 And obscured my vision. 
 I seemed to feel the presence of God, 
 And yet I failed to find Him. . . . 
 Then again the Angel appeared, and said: 
 "Thou wouldst know God — 
 Then mount — mount to the uppermost peak." 
 
 14 
 
So again I pursued the path. 
 
 But now I was strong and free; 
 
 My limbs bore me with assurance and ease; 
 
 And, improving my pace, 
 
 I strode eagerly onward. 
 
 Thus I drew nearer to God; 
 
 But, striving to scale the utmost height, 
 
 I stumbled and fell. 
 
 Yet there and then, as I fell, 
 
 Was God revealed to me. 
 
 There, on the ledge where fallen I lay, 
 
 There, in the ambient atmosphere of truth, 
 
 I came to know God and His purpose. 
 
 And then I knew why Man 
 
 In all the years, 
 
 Through ages and ages, 
 
 Must climb — and climb — and climb. 
 
 15 
 
THE SPIRIT OF THE STRIFE 
 
 OTHOU, America! 
 Thou Titan of the modern world; 
 Whose flag the hand of Justice has unfurled 
 In East and West, to safeguard human liberty! 
 Awake! Awake! Proud land, 
 Arouse! Shake off this lethargy! 
 The Peril of the Ages, with distorted face 
 And eyes ablaze with hate, 
 Frowns down on thee! 
 And lest thou yet should hesitate, 
 I bid thee see, with visioned eyes — 
 'Neath Europe's erstwhile sunny skies — 
 Where stands the Beast of ravenous maw, 
 With dripping lip and reeking jaw, 
 On the mangled forms of Treaty, and of Law — 
 While in the annual cycle's two-fold flight — 
 Through doleful day and hideous night — 
 A million souls have been released 
 To feed the maw of the rapacious beast 
 Which hungers yet; and over all the pall of murk. 
 Where in the water's depths yet lurk 
 Those deadly denizens, whose belching breath 
 O'erwhelmed our babes and women in an avalanche 
 
 of death; 
 And doomed brave men — not men arrayed 
 
 16 
 
In serried ranks — in the accoutrement of war, 
 Who eager seek the battle that may make or mar — 
 Bnt men who, unafraid, 
 Pursued the paths of peace, or plied their peaceful 
 
 trade, 
 Unknowing that foul Murder stalked abroad! 
 Now raise thine eyes aloft! See where the flaming 
 
 sword 
 Sweeps far and wide amidst the clouds! See where 
 
 they pierce 
 The azure of the skies with monsters fierce — 
 Leviathans of the air — great ships that sail! 
 But e'en their distant sight makes children wail; 
 For not in commerce do they wing their flight, 
 Fell purpose theirs to add to human plight. 
 They hurl the thunderbolts of war 
 Upon the peaceful hamlet as they soar; 
 Upon the suckling babes that nestling rest, 
 So seemingly secure, upon the mother's breast. 
 They rob the humble plodder of a life 
 That e'er knew peace, and ne'er engaged in strife. 
 O thou, America, Awake! Arouse! Prepare! 
 The Spirit of the Strife is regnant in the air! 
 
 April, 19 1 6 
 
 17 
 
A CHILD TO HER DOLL 
 
 I AM sending you, Dolly, abroad today, 
 On a visit to God up on high; 
 And I'll tell you, dear Dolly, what you are to say, 
 When you meet the dear Lord in the sky. 
 
 From your pink little toes to your bright sunny locks, 
 In your prettiest things you are dressed, 
 
 While on soft cushioned satin you lie in your box, 
 With your hands meekly crossed on your breast. 
 
 For you know that's how Mother sent Brother away, 
 When he went on his visit to God; 
 
 'Cause I peeked, and I saw where so cozy he lay 
 Fast asleep in the Dreamland of Nod. 
 
 But I don't understand what detains him so long, 
 And I'm lonesome while he is away; 
 
 Oh! I wonder if anything can have gone wrong, 
 For I never supposed he would stay. 
 
 So I'm sending you, Dolly. Please hurry back soon, 
 And be sure to bring Brother with you; 
 
 For dear Mother was weeping at table this noon, 
 And he wouldn't like that — if he knew. 
 
 18 
 
Tell the Lord, little Dolly, that Mother is sad, 
 And that Father is worrying, too, 
 
 And then say we will all be so thankful and glad, 
 When He sends back dear Brother with you. 
 
 19 
 
ALONE 
 
 SPENT and exhausted by my toil, but still 
 Determined at no meaner place to rest, 
 I dragged my weary footsteps up the hill, 
 
 And gained at last the breezy sun-lit crest. 
 
 But having passed my friends upon the way, 
 
 (My best-beloved were ne'er to climbing prone) 
 
 The lengthening shadows of declining day 
 
 Play round me on the hilltop — all alone. 
 
 20 
 
VAGRANT THOUGHTS 
 
 VAGRANT thoughts of youth, that freely rove 
 Where fancy's fairest tapestries are wove! 
 When, all unfettered of the gyves of time, 
 With worlds to win, and lofty heights to climb, 
 Gaily we sally through the Eastern Gate, 
 What raptures rouse us and what hopes elate! 
 
 But with the noonday spent, our thoughts in flight 
 
 To retrospect incline, and oft alight 
 
 Where, from the tomb of many an earlier year, 
 
 Familiar phantoms of the past appear; 
 
 And oft, in reverie deep, they linger, while 
 
 A sigh escapes us, or perchance, we smile. 
 
 21 
 
WOULD THAT IT WERE EQUITY! 
 
 AS the beneficent sun upon our sphere 
 Sheds its refulgent light, 
 Making the earth a garden, else so drear 
 
 With cold, perennial night, 
 So where, in shadow deep, Distress and Want 
 
 With hideous visage lurk, 
 Fair Charity full oft illumes the haunt, 
 And dissipates the murk. 
 
 As the warm blanket of the winter snows 
 
 Nurtures the seed that is sown, 
 And generous shelter on the glebe bestows 
 
 That ripe grain may be grown, 
 So Charity her mantle has far spread 
 
 Over suffering and dearth; 
 Yet would that it were Equity instead, 
 
 That ministered on earth! 
 
 22 
 
FROM ELFIN LIPS 
 
 SWEET Sunny-curls, in slumber garments drest, 
 Sat on my knee, and nestling to my breast, 
 Showed me his booklet, where the page portrayed 
 A weird, lank figure, in loose robe arrayed, 
 With glass and scythe, and beard as white as rime; 
 Then, lisping, asked, "How old is Father Time?" 
 
 I pressed him to my heart — nor made reply — 
 
 While, as he prattled, time went swiftly by. 
 
 Soon Nurse appeared, a fond "Good-night" was said, 
 
 And Sunny-curls then toddled off to bed. 
 
 But I sat dreaming till the midnight chime; 
 
 My pregnant theme, "How old is Father Time?" 
 
 23 
 
GOD'S FACE 
 A Nocturne of Childhood 
 
 WHILE the gleaming eyes of night 
 Are bent on me, 
 In their benignant light 
 God's face I see. 
 
 If with a sense of shame 
 
 I cast mine down, 
 God knows that I'm to blame, 
 
 And seems to frown. 
 
 But when they note no trace 
 
 Of present guile, 
 They twinkle, and God's face 
 
 Appears to smile! 
 
 24 
 
I NEVER KNEW 
 
 I NEVER knew that earth was half so fair 
 Till, happily, you gave me eyes that see; 
 Of love's rich blessing I was unaware 
 
 Until your love laid bare the rune to me. 
 
 I never thought an Eden, here, to win; 
 
 Such bliss I deemed reserved for heaven above, 
 Until you oped the gate and let me in 
 
 To the Elysian Garden of your love! 
 
 25 
 
A VETERAN SUBSCRIBES 
 
 I'VE written to the Treasury 
 At Washington, D. C. 
 And entered my subscription to 
 
 The Loan of Liberty. 
 Five hundred dollars isn't much, 
 
 But then it's all I own, 
 And every man should do his share 
 To help along the Loan. 
 
 I'm sorry I can do no more, 
 
 I'm much too old to fight; 
 The youngsters now must take the field 
 
 To battle for the Right. 
 But we who served the Stars and Stripes 
 
 When Lincoln called for men, 
 Can draw our checks to Uncle Sam, 
 
 And thus can serve again. 
 
 Now let me add another word; 
 
 Don't think that I'm a fool, 
 For when a lad I learned, at least, 
 
 To "figger" well at school. 
 My dear old dad bought U. S. bonds 
 
 And never came to harm, 
 For when the Civil War was closed, 
 
 His profits bought the farm. 
 
 26 
 
So while I am a patriot, 
 
 And wouldn't shirk a loss — 
 If Uncle Sam just needed help 
 
 I'd do my "bit," of course; 
 But since no losses can accrue, 
 
 And profits may be shown, 
 I'm doubly glad to draw my check 
 
 For Uncle Sam's new Loan. 
 
 May, 1 9 17 
 
 27 
 
HAPPINESS 
 
 NOR what we lend, 
 Nor what we crave, 
 Nor what we spend, 
 
 Nor what we save. 
 Some who lament 
 
 Have much to bless; 
 Let's be content — 
 That's happiness! 
 
 28 
 
THE MYSTIC RUNE 
 
 WHEN blow the North winds bleak, 
 When life with sorrow is strewn, 
 With vision ever blurred and weak 
 We pore the Mystic Rune. 
 
 Whenever the flickering light 
 
 . Is snuffed by Fate's decree, 
 And a spirit, with reluctant flight, 
 Soars into eternity; 
 
 And a loved one, quick and warm, 
 
 Lies cold as modeled clay, 
 Beside the pale, encoffined form 
 
 We ponder and we pray. 
 
 We ponder and we pray; 
 
 We peer into the mist, 
 And to the tomb commit the clay 
 
 God's angel, Death, has kissed. 
 
 Soon grief its solace finds, 
 
 And to earth again we are wed; 
 
 For summer comes with its lulling winds- 
 But the Rune remains unread. 
 
 29 
 
HAIL, AMERICA! 
 
 HAIL, America, the West land! 
 Sovereign power of the free ! 
 Hail, O nation of the blest land, 
 Where enshrined is Liberty! 
 In the hearts of thy proud people 
 
 Is the flush of Freedom's flame. 
 Chime, O bells! From tower and steeple 
 Peal Democracy's acclaim! 
 
 II 
 
 Thy domain knows none who winces 
 
 Under acts of tyranny; 
 Equal-born, all men are princes — 
 
 Is the gospel spread by thee. 
 Lo! the torch thy fathers lighted 
 
 Sheds its radiance o'er the world; 
 By its flame has wrong been righted — 
 
 From his throne the despot hurled. 
 
 Ill 
 
 Hear, oh! hear, the glad hosannas — 
 Freedom's voices raised in song; 
 
 30 
 
Proudly waving are thy banners 
 
 Where the hosts of Freedom throng. 
 
 Long mayst thou, with firm devotion, 
 Guide aright Democracy! 
 
 Prosper thou on land and ocean, 
 Ever guarding liberty! 
 
 June, 1917 
 
 31 
 
NOCTURNE 
 
 I PEERED into the spangled night, 
 And every gleaming star 
 Conveyed to me on beams of light 
 A message from afar. 
 
 As though it were the spoken word, 
 In utterance clear and terse; 
 
 I listened, and as plainly heard, 
 "God rules the universe" 
 
 But what about the War's alarms, 
 The shambles of brave men, 
 
 And twenty nations up in arms? 
 Then I listened once again. 
 
 "So children question remedies 
 Which noxious ills disperse, 
 
 And save from greater agonies. 
 God rules the universe" 
 
 May, 1918 
 
 32 
 
THE IDES OF APRIL, 1918 
 
 BUT yesterday the trees were blossoming, 
 And the balmy air betokened vernal promise, 
 While on the fences, slow meandering, 
 
 Our Pussy flirted with the neighboring Thomas. 
 I, never dreaming that today would bring 
 
 A sharp reminder of December weather, 
 Enjoyed the happy advent of the spring, 
 Forgetful of the winter altogether. 
 
 But now 'tis 8 A.M. — the winds are blowing, 
 
 And overhead there lowers a leaden sky. 
 To my surprise I find it has been snowing; 
 
 Without an icy mantle greets the eye. 
 And, as I gaze about me, heavy hearted, 
 
 A spectre grim once more afflicts my soul; 
 Again the furnace fire must now be started; 
 
 And in the bin there's not a pound of coal. 
 
 33 
 
VISITORS 
 
 DULL CARE, I declare 
 I would you were afar. 
 With your countenance of rue 
 And your garb of somber hue, 
 Who would wish to welcome you? 
 What a bore you are! 
 
 CHEERINESS, I confess 
 
 I am grateful for your visit; 
 
 Care is such a woeful wight, 
 When he saw your smile so bright, 
 Off he went to my delight. 
 Not a bad world, is it? 
 
 34 
 
THE ISLANDS OF THE SKY 
 
 WHEN I was but a little lad, 
 I oft in fancy free 
 Went voyaging among the isles 
 
 That nestled in the sea; 
 On many a golden summer day, 
 When no one else was nigh, 
 I sailed my boat of dreams among 
 The islands of the sky. 
 
 Though that was many years ago, 
 
 And much has happened since, 
 And mingled with our joys I've learned 
 
 There's much that makes us wince, 
 Yet now, as then, I dream sweet dreams; 
 
 And some day, by and by, 
 I hope to sail my ship among 
 
 The islands of the sky. 
 
 35 
 
LOVE NESTLES DEEP 
 
 SOME picture Love as a thing apart, 
 Yet it nestles deep in every heart; 
 A zephyr touch, and Love's astir 
 In the heart of him and the heart of her! 
 
 36 
 
THE COUNTERFEIT 
 
 STILL men confuse the efflux from above 
 With a passion which arouses heaven's ire, 
 Mistaking for the purity of Love, 
 
 The base, ignoble counterfeit, Desire. 
 
 37 
 
THE WORLD'S A STAGE 
 
 TN a huge amphitheatre 
 
 A They were playing 
 
 A GREAT TRAGEDY— 
 
 "The Most Stupendous Spectacle 
 
 Ever Presented On Any Stage; 
 
 With a Stellar Cast Unrivaled In 
 
 The History Of The World!". 
 
 So said the program. 
 
 I looked about me. 
 
 The audience was the largest I had ever known. 
 
 The play was on. 
 
 The scene was France. 
 
 What realism! 
 
 And the maiming 
 
 And the killing! 
 
 Distressful — unbearably distressful ! 
 
 I longed to leave, but lacked the power to move. 
 
 With averted eyes, anxiously I awaited the ending. 
 
 Would the curtain never drop? 
 
 At last ... it is over . . . the audience is dispersing. 
 
 In the foyer 
 
 38 
 
I read the flaring announcement: — 
 
 "Next Week — The World's Greatest Production! 
 
 The Acme Of Creative Art! 
 
 The Quintessence Of Melodrama! 
 
 Entitled, 
 
 THE WORLD AT PEACE." 
 
 Then I awoke. 
 
 June, 1918 
 
 39 
 
DEMOCRACY HUMBLED* 
 
 THE edict has gone forth. 
 And blatantly it is announced 
 That naught of power exists on earth 
 To stay its execution save but this: 
 "A satisfactory settlement. " 
 In other words, it cannot be, 
 But yet it will be if, forsooth, 
 The people of this hundred-millon land — 
 Their Congressmen and Senators of States, 
 Together with the nation's President — 
 Shall "crook the pregnant hinges of the knee/ 1 
 And with obeisance low shall humbly yield 
 To the demands of labor's chiefs post-haste, 
 Nor pause for due deliberation. 
 
 Alas! how are the mighty fallen! 
 But yesterday 'twas our proud boast 
 That in our well-beloved land 
 One hundred million freeman held 
 A heritage, which their forebears 
 Had fought so valiantly to attain. 
 
 ♦While Congress was considering- the "Adamson Bill" 
 and the President was in conference with the Brother- 
 hood Chiefs, a secret strike order was issued by the 
 latter which threatened to tie up every railroad in the 
 United States. 
 
 40 
 
Today, by fourfold brotherhoods betrayed, 
 Whose cause, if pled at arbitration's bar 
 Might have evoked the nation's sympathy, 
 Democracy lies humbled in the dust. 
 
 September, 1916 
 
 41 
 
THE PROFITEER 
 
 WHO is it, while we are waging war, 
 Finds opportunity galore 
 For piling pelf as never before? 
 The Profiteer. 
 
 Who is it that has goods to sell 
 And boosts the prices up like — well, 
 As high as hangs the old church bell? 
 The Profiteer. 
 
 Whose love of Country is intense? — 
 For what it yields in pounds and pence. 
 But not in any other sense — 
 The Profiteer. 
 
 And who, since Honor is at stake, 
 For God and Country arms will take 
 And every sacrifice will make, 
 The Profiteer? ? ? 
 
 March, 1918 
 
 42 
 
REGRET 
 
 WHEN in our musing moments we rehearse 
 The parts we played for better or for worse; 
 When, summoned forth by memory's magic wand, 
 The Years, long sepulchred, at once respond. 
 
 When, as the phantom pageant passes by, 
 Pale forms appear, unpleasing to the eye; 
 When with distress some moments we recall: 
 It proves that we are human — that is all. 
 
 43 
 
STILL NATURE SMILES 
 
 THE twittering dawn of summer, 
 The gold-flecked evening light, 
 And winter's vestal vestment 
 
 When the landscape's hung with white; 
 The revelry of Springtime, 
 
 In blossom, bud and flower; 
 The brown and russet vista 
 
 In the late-October hour; 
 The glen and lake and mountain, 
 
 The ocean's shell-decked shore — 
 Still Nature smiles and beckons us, 
 
 Although we are at war! 
 
 44 
 
THEIR DREAMS CAME TRUE 
 
 SHE dreamt of a lover, whose heart within 
 Was crystal-clear and free from sin; 
 He dreamt of a maid, whose witching smile 
 Mirrored a mind that knew no guile. 
 
 And then they awakened to days of rue? 
 Nay, Mr. Cynic, their dreams came true. 
 
 45 
 
THE CARBONIFEROUS AGE 
 
 THE silver thread said zero to the tube 
 While Boreas played his mad, fantastic pranks 
 On muffled folk, who, on their business bent, 
 Had ventured forth despite his frigid sway; 
 And I was glad to be ensconced indoors. 
 
 Our swarthy furnaceman — he whom we share 
 In common with our neighbors, six or more — 
 Had "Gotta too moocha wuk"; hence I assumed 
 The task of feeding the omnivorous maw 
 Whose appetite must now be well appeased. 
 
 While so employed somehow my mind recurred 
 
 To several tomes, wherein geologists 
 
 Set forth the progress of the infant earth; 
 
 And, spanning all the intervening years, 
 
 I seemed to glimpse the Carboniferous Age. 
 
 Red, green, and gold, primeval plant and reed, 
 Kissed by the tropic sun to monstrous size, 
 In wild profusion flourished on the fen, 
 Where lived the Dinosaur his reptile life, 
 That to the modern world bequeathed his bones. 
 
 46 
 
Thus visioning, I heaped upon the flame 
 The moulded flora of that early day, 
 Transformed by Time to glistening anthracite; 
 Nay more; perchance immingled with the mass, 
 The dust of creatures from whom Man evolved. 
 
 47 
 
AT THE DEATH-BED OF A FRIEND 
 
 AS dipped the sun into the deep 
 Beyond the gold-fringed west, 
 He fell profoundly into sleep, 
 And passed away to rest. 
 
 Then, as 'tis writ in Holy Word, 
 
 Our ancient prayer arose, 
 And I thought his lingering spirit heard, 
 
 And echoed it. — Who knows? 
 
 48 
 
SEVEN TYPEb 
 
 THERE'S the man with a heart, large and tender, 
 Who will freely contribute his share. 
 There's another whose means are but slender, 
 
 Yet with ever a dollar to spare. 
 And again, there's the man fortune smiled on, 
 
 Who is thankful he's able to give. 
 There's the fellow misfortune has piled on 
 
 And who needs our assistance to live. 
 There's the man who while giving begrudges 
 
 What your effort extracts from his purse; 
 Who, unless all opinion misjudges, 
 
 Fully thrice the amount should disburse. 
 There's the man, while your plea he's denying, 
 
 Who remarks, "I am doing so much"; 
 But you know very well he is lying, 
 
 And is merely evading your "touch." 
 Then there's one who is scarce worth our mention — 
 
 Of a make-up so flinty and small; 
 To the needy he pays no attention: 
 
 He's the man who gives nothing at all. 
 
 49 
 
LOVE-LIGHT 
 
 SOMETHING I saw, full-mirrored in your eyes, 
 That swift your drooping lashes hid from view, 
 And, certitude displacing sweet surmise, 
 
 I knew you loved me, Dear; at last I knew! 
 
 Something I saw, full-mirrored in your eyes, 
 That thrilled me with an ecstacy of bliss, 
 
 And sped me, Sweetheart, into paradise 
 Upon the wings of our betrothal kiss! 
 
 50 
 
ON AN ANNIVERSARY 
 
 THE sweet communion during many a year 
 With one who truly shares our woe and weal, 
 From whom nor joy nor sorrow we conceal, 
 Whose truth and loyalty we never fear — 
 In whose too partial view we e'er appear 
 Worthier than our just deserts reveal: 
 Is there in life another joy so real? 
 Is there a tie deservedly so dear? 
 
 How blest is he, how richly he endowed — 
 
 Whatever his condition or estate — 
 To whom the Fates propitious have allowed 
 
 A loyal, loving and contented mate! 
 However humble, yet may he be proud 
 
 As any king within his palace gate. 
 
 51 
 
TWO PICTURES 
 
 I 
 
 A 
 
 CROESUS entertained one day, and on his 
 sumptuous board 
 Were spread the choicest viands that the markets 
 could afford. 
 
 He banqueted a host of friends, and then to what 
 
 remained 
 The servants of the house sat down with eagerness 
 
 unfeigned. 
 
 And after they had eaten all that they could well 
 
 endure, 
 The master ordered that the rest be given to the 
 
 poor. 
 
 II 
 
 Meanwhile in an old tenement not very far away 
 A pallid woman and her babe upon a pallet lay. 
 
 When one almost as poor as she came tapping at 
 
 the door, 
 And gently placed beside the cot the steaming tray 
 she bore, 
 
 52 
 
Remarking as she set it down, "We haven't a great 
 deal, 
 
 But we are glad to share with you our simple eve- 
 ning meal. ,, 
 
 III 
 
 Perchance it may be helpful if these pictures be 
 
 compared: 
 The one, entitled "Charity" — the other, "Supper 
 
 Shared"! 
 
 53 
 
ANACHRONISMS 
 
 STILL Bigotry, to Darkness wed, 
 Pollutes the human heart; 
 Still Prejudice, by Error bred, 
 Plays its vindictive part. 
 
 54 
 
LOVE IS IMMORTAL 
 
 A VAUNT! ye cynics, who surmise 
 That Love's a flower that droops and dies; 
 An effluence from Heaven's own portal — 
 The breath divine, is Love immortal! 
 
 55 
 
FOUND HER OUT 
 
 HE called upon his "lady friend," 
 And found her out. 
 Learning what she did not intend 
 He ever should, 
 Nor dreamed he would, 
 He found her out! 
 
 56 
 
THE CONCRETE MACHINE 
 
 WHERE winds a sinuous stream of tangled travel, 
 As multi-thousands daily go and come, 
 An engine with a huge revolving drum 
 Was mixing sand, cement and stone and gravel. 
 
 And, pausing there awhile in contemplation — 
 For it appeared symbolic of today — 
 I thought I heard the raucous cog-wheels say, 
 
 "So builded we a great and glorious nation." 
 
 57 
 
ROSETTA AT THE PLAY 
 
 ROSETTA'S a demure young maid; 
 And on a recent day 
 We thought it meet, just as a treat, 
 To take her to the play. 
 
 We chose the one where there's such fun 
 
 With animals and things, 
 And angels fair float in the air — 
 
 Or seem to float — on wings. 
 
 As it befell, I ought to tell, 
 
 Her debut at the play 
 Was made when she turned five — you see 
 
 'Twas on that very day. 
 
 Now quite spellbound she looked around 
 
 At all the people there; 
 But when, amazed, her eyes were raised 
 
 And saw the masses where, 
 
 Perched up so high in balcony, 
 They, too, enjoyed themselves, 
 
 She whispered small, "Oh, look at all 
 The people on the shelves I" 
 
 58 
 
So cutely said, I fain would spread 
 Her words amongst the elves, 
 
 Who some day may see at the play, 
 "The people on the shelves." 
 
 59 
 
c 
 
 THE SYMPOSIUM 
 
 RAVING indulgence, may my Muse record 
 Some views expressed around a festive board? 
 
 The hostess said: 
 
 "Where strewn along the strand 
 They He that lacked but a restraining hand 
 Are many piteous forms, who would, perchance, 
 Have graced fair hearths in sunnier circumstance." 
 
 Quoth Mrs. Harsh: 
 
 "We scarce should pity them; 
 In justice to ourselves we must condemn." 
 
 Then Grandma Candor said: 
 
 "I really think 
 They are but few who never neared the brink; 
 Those most of beauty, health and wit possessed, 
 Mayhap approach more closely than the rest." 
 
 And Mrs. Kind remarked: 
 
 "Some misbehave 
 In ignorance, and find a nameless grave, 
 Because untutored till too late to save." 
 
 60 
 
Miss Prude replied: 
 
 "The still, small voice within 
 Is then unheeded, else they would not sin; 
 However saints and ministers may prate, 
 We should be firm and naught extenuate." 
 
 And soon a general buzz and din arose; 
 What one advanced another would oppose. 
 
 Then Mrs. Meek exclaimed: 
 
 "Save for His care 
 Would every one of us be lying there." 
 
 And lest you think her words provoked a riot, 
 I haste to add, they all grew strangely quiet. 
 
 61 
 
UPON THIS TEEMING SPHERE 
 
 UPON this teeming sphere 
 Each one may play his part; 
 A simple word of cheer 
 
 May ease an aching heart. 
 
 One act of kindness may 
 
 Attest to Heaven our worth 
 
 And justify the day 
 
 Accorded us on earth. 
 
 But all we might have done 
 Which retrospect recalls, 
 
 Can bless and brighten none 
 
 When the deep shadow falls. 
 
 62 
 
THE SEASON SISTERS 
 
 CONSIDERING the Seasons, 
 When each in turn is weighed, 
 I find them all alluring 
 
 With their chiefest charms displayed! 
 
 Her face suffused with blushes, 
 
 I love Miss Summer quite, 
 Yet there's no fairer picture 
 
 Than Miss Winter decked in white. 
 
 Bewitching is Miss Springtime 
 
 When reveling in her flowers; 
 
 And glorious are the vistas 
 
 Of Miss Autumn's russet hours. 
 
 I love the Season Sisters, 
 
 And delight when they're arrayed 
 In their very best apparel — 
 
 With their chiefest charms displayed! 
 
 63 
 
THE ROAD TO RUE 
 
 TO view with envious eyes 
 What other men possess — 
 Oh! not in that direction lies 
 The way to Happiness. 
 
 But all experience shows 
 
 The contrary is true, 
 And many a chastened mortal knows 
 
 There lies the road to Rue. 
 
 64 
 
A PRECEPT 
 
 BE temperate in habit, 
 Moderate in desire, 
 Modest in expectation, 
 Humble in thought; 
 And covet nothing 
 But the Truth! 
 
 65 
 
THE BIRDIE-BOAT 
 
 THE Birdie-boat! The Birdie-boat! 
 With its woven wings and its purring note 
 It was swiftly skimming the flooding tide 
 When a tiny toddler who saw it, cried, 
 "O Birdie-boat! O Birdie-boat!" 
 
 The Birdie-boat! The Birdie-boat! 
 How it covers the wave with a foamy coat! 
 Now, spurning the waters, it climbs so high 
 That it soon is a speck on the azure sky: 
 O Birdie-boat! O Birdie-boat! 
 
 The Birdie-boat! The Birdie-boat! 
 Now down from aloft and again afloat. 
 So swiftly it sails and so freely it flies — 
 A boat on the waves and a bird in the skies: 
 O Birdie-boat! O Birdie-boat! 
 
 66 
 
AT THE SHRINE 
 
 TO revel in the beautiful of earth, 
 And find in all at least a trace of worth; 
 Discover and in grateful song rehearse 
 The glories of the wondrous universe; 
 Appreciate and with consummate art 
 Stir the emotions of the human heart, 
 Drawing the strings of Poesy's sweet lyre, 
 As lovers do, with eager soul afire; 
 Then basking in a luxury of lays, 
 With ear inclined to catch the notes of praise: 
 Thus to the Muse full many a soul aspires 
 Who neither fame nor fortune so acquires, 
 Yet gains a guerdon which is oft unguessed; 
 Who dreams great dreams is never all unblessed. 
 
 67 
 
A WISH 
 
 OH! would that with the cleric strife 
 Of dogma, rite and creed, 
 Mankind were not so much concerned, 
 But that men more would heed 
 
 The precepts of benevolence, 
 And find in love the leaven 
 
 That glorifies the soul of man, 
 Uplifting it to heaven! 
 
 68 
 
WHEN ALL THE WORLDS AWRY 
 
 WHENEVER things are far from right, 
 When all the world's awry, 
 Yet smiling faces greet our sight 
 As other folk go by. 
 
 When for the burden that we bear 
 
 No recompense we see, 
 Let's ask ourselves ere we despair. 
 
 Is the fault with you and me? 
 
 69 
 
THE LIBERTY LOAN 
 
 nUY! Buy! Buy! 
 
 **^ To back up our boys at the front! 
 
 And buy — buy — buy, 
 
 It is they that are bearing the brunt. 
 
 Whatever the sum you advance, 
 
 Though large or small it be, 
 
 It will help maintain our troops in France 
 
 And will speed the victory. 
 
 Buy! Buy! Buy! 
 
 For the glory of our land! 
 
 And buy — buy — buy, 
 
 To show just where you stand. 
 
 Oh! many are breasting the foam 
 
 Where the belching monsters lurk, 
 
 While we who are safe and snug at home 
 
 Are going about our work. 
 
 Then let us remember at least — 
 
 We that have money to give, 
 
 That our boys are battling with the Beast, 
 
 That in freedom we may live. 
 
 70 
 
So buy — buy — buy, 
 To the fullest extent of your purse; 
 For every Liberty Bond you buy 
 Is a blow at the Teuton curse! 
 
 April, 1918 
 
 71 
 
PEN AND TONGUE 
 
 THERE'S a poisoned and virulent Pen 
 That meditates deeply, and then 
 Its words sear the paper, 
 And lo! there's a vapor 
 Arises like fog from a fen. 
 O men! Again! 
 Beware of the Virulent Pen! 
 
 And beware of the scandalous Tongue, 
 
 Even though in a fair head 'tis hung! 
 
 Unsparing and callous, 
 
 In cot and in palace 
 
 Full many a heart has been wrung — 
 
 Been wrung and stung 
 
 By a Filthy and Scandalous Tongue! 
 
 72 
 
A WAR CYCLE 
 
AT LAST 
 
 AT last the die is cast, 
 The signal fires burn, 
 The Rubicon is passed, 
 
 And every face is stern. 
 
 Now fluttering to the breeze 
 
 The flag adorns the height — 
 
 For freedom of the seas, 
 
 To curb the Kaiser's might! 
 
 Nor shall the flag be furled 
 
 Until Democracy 
 Is safe for all the world — 
 
 And every people free! 
 
 April 6, 1 91 7 
 
 75 
 
SONG OF THE WAR 
 
 ONE hundred million freemen 
 Have risen in their might — 
 One hundred million freemen 
 
 To battle for the Right. 
 And here on Freedom's altar, 
 
 Where Freedom's fight was won, 
 We vow we shall not falter 
 Until our task is done. 
 
 Hark! Uncle Sam is calling 
 
 His loyal sons and true; 
 Yes, Uncle Sam is calling 
 
 And that means me and you. 
 Then let us up and answer 
 
 With spirit strong and free, 
 "I'll do what e'er I can, Sir, 
 
 For God and Liberty!" 
 
 One hundred million freemen 
 
 With starry flag unfurled — 
 One hundred million freemen 
 
 To liberate the world. 
 With every allied nation 
 
 Whose cause is Liberty, 
 In bonds of close relation 
 
 Until the world is free. 
 
 76 
 
One hundred million freemen 
 
 To serve Democracy — 
 One hundred million freemen 
 
 Who spurn Autocracy. 
 And, by the love we cherish 
 
 For the land of Freedom's birth, 
 Autocracy shall perish, 
 
 And Freedom reign on earth. 
 
 April 10, 1 91 7 
 
 77 
 
THE WRAITH OF WASHINGTON 
 
 METHOUGHT I saw with visioned eyes 
 An apparition fair, 
 And, as I peered, to my surprise, 
 Lo! Washington was there. 
 
 Benign his countenance and bland, 
 Though searching was his eye, 
 
 As he surveyed his well-loved land 
 From where he stood on high. 
 
 He saw the hurrying hosts that pressed, 
 
 As, gathering in array, 
 From North and East and South and West 
 
 They came to join the fray. 
 
 He saw the artisans of skill — 
 
 Our nation's pride and prop — 
 
 Toiling at whirring lathe and drill 
 In factory and shop. 
 
 He saw the fiery furnace stacks, 
 
 And the molten mass of steel, 
 And the throngs that bent their naked backs 
 
 To serve their country's weal. 
 
 78 
 
He saw the men behind the plow 
 
 Plodding without acclaim, 
 Yet rendering loyal service now 
 
 With a patriotic flame. 
 
 And he seemed to note with a special pride, 
 
 That bordered on delight, 
 That our ship-yards had been multiplied 
 
 By the magic of a night. 
 
 I cried, "O Spirit, well we know 
 That our task has but begun"; 
 
 And I heard a whisper soft and low, 
 "My country, 'tis well done." 
 
 May, 1917 
 
 79 
 
DOWN FIFTH AVENUE 
 
 THICK as stubble in the wheat field 
 When the harvest task is done, 
 Brightly flash the gleaming bayonets 
 In the torrid August sun. 
 
 Khaki-clad and straight and stalwart, 
 Five-and-twenty thousand strong, 
 
 With a brisk and rhythmic footstep 
 
 New York's dough-boys march along. 
 
 From the crowded street and casement 
 Echo ever cheer on cheer — 
 
 Here and there a dainty kerchief 
 Brushes off a furtive tear. 
 
 By my side a Spartan mother 
 Lets no single sign betray — 
 
 'Tis a righteous cause and holy, 
 And her boy is on the way! 
 
 August, 19 17 
 
 80 
 
THE WAR SUFFERERS 
 
 OUT of the blackness of Europa's night, 
 What cries are these that loud our ears assail? 
 O Brothers, they are born of Israel's plight! 
 
 From anguished hearts is wrung the bitter tale, 
 
 Which tells of suffering, misery and dearth — 
 
 Such throes of women, children and old men 
 
 As history ne'er recorded of the earth, 
 
 And, by God's grace, shall ne'er record again! 
 
 To us our kindred cry, as Jews to Jews, 
 
 Invoking ties that bind true brothers fast — 
 
 The memories of our common, ancient rues, 
 The heritage of Israel's glorious past. 
 
 Oh! let it not be said in terms of truth, 
 
 That Israel's ears are deaf to Israel's woes; 
 
 Nor that a brother's voice, beseeching ruth, 
 In Israel's camp unanswered ever goes. 
 
 November, 1917 
 
 81 
 
THE SONG OF THE VOLUNTEER 
 
 (After Macaulay's Horatius) 
 
 TO every son of mortal 
 Death comes or soon or late, 
 So when the voice of duty calls 
 
 Why should one hesitate; 
 For can a man die better 
 
 If fate should so decree, 
 Than for the starry emblem fair 
 That floats above the free? 
 
 Can ever a man die better 
 
 Than for a land so blest, 
 And in defense of her who holds 
 
 His baby at her breast; 
 To safeguard the old mother 
 
 Who held him on her knee, 
 Or to protect the maid he loves 
 
 In all her purity? 
 
 America, my country, 
 
 Land of my heart's delight, 
 My breast shall serve thee as a shield 
 
 Against oppression's might; 
 
 82 
 
Nor can a man die better, 
 
 And win a nobler fame, 
 Till war shall cease and men in peace 
 
 Praise the Creator's name! 
 
 February, 19 18 
 
 83 
 
SERVICE STARS 
 
 WHERE Freedom's glorious avatars, 
 The Service Flags, are flung, 
 With pride we hail the unnumbered stars 
 Now into being sprung. 
 
 For every star denotes a lance 
 Which, on the infested sea, 
 
 Or on the imperiled fields of France, 
 Will bravely wielded be. 
 
 From staff and casement they illume 
 Our Country's crucial hours, 
 
 Foreshadowing the certain doom 
 Of the Germanic powers! 
 
 March, 1918 
 
 84 
 
IN RIGHTEOUSNESS AROUSED 
 
 THE flower of our manhood now 
 Is blue and khaki clad; 
 Upon the far-flung battle line 
 Our altars have been raised 
 To Liberty and Human Rights, 
 Democracy and Law; 
 The sacrificial offering 
 Increases day by day, 
 And the world beholds America 
 In righteousness aroused! 
 
 What matters now the things 
 
 We used to prize — the golden calf, 
 
 The frippery and the bauble, 
 
 Social dalliance and feasting, 
 
 And all the thousand vanities 
 
 We worshipped yesterday? 
 
 Let every energy be bent 
 
 To our God-given task — 
 
 To tear the talons from the Beast 
 
 That menaces the earth! 
 
 April, 1918 
 
 85 
 
HIS INSTRUMENT 
 
 WITH a pillar of cloud by day 
 And a pillar of fire by night, 
 He guided Israel on its way 
 In the immemorial flight. 
 
 So God still leads the way 
 
 Of them that acknowledge His might, 
 For Justice is a pillar by day 
 
 And a pillar of fire is Right. 
 
 Now on their crusade sent, 
 
 America's brave sons 
 Are but His humble instrument 
 
 To overthrow the Huns. 
 
 And soon, despite his boasts, 
 
 The Kaiser and his horde, 
 Even as were Pharaoh's hosts, 
 
 Will be dealt with by the Lord. 
 
 June, 1918 
 
 86 
 
WARILDA 
 
 "AN ambulance ship torpedoed! 
 •£*> One hundred and twenty-three killed! 
 All wounded soldiers, and nurses!" . . . 
 
 Will another medal be milled? 
 Will the captain be decorated 
 
 And the submarine crew be praised 
 By their high war-lord, the Kaiser, 
 
 While the world looks on amazed? 
 
 Long after the War is over 
 
 And America's task is done; 
 Long after the allied nations 
 
 Shall have dealt with the conquered Hun, 
 Symbolic forever and ever 
 
 Of a devilish deed of shame, 
 Along with the Lusitania 
 
 The world will remember the name 
 WARILDA! 
 August, 1 91 8 
 
 87 
 
SOME DAY HE WILL RETURN 
 
 SOME day he will return! — though not the same 
 Remembered youth who dreamed these skies 
 beneath, 
 But with the sheen of glory on his name 
 
 And on his brow the victor's laurel wreath! 
 
 And, lovingly, I'll clasp him to my heart, 
 
 Rejoicing with him that the War is won, 
 
 Rejoicing that we nevermore need part, 
 
 And thankful that the fearful task is done. . . . 
 
 Yet be thou steeled, my heart, for it may be 
 That 'mid the poppies he will softly sleep; 
 
 And God may grant me but his memory 
 
 Through lonely years while I my vigil keep. 
 
 So, lest I prove unworthy of his love — 
 
 Unfit to be the sire of such a son, 
 In faith and trust in Him who rules above, 
 
 My prayers arise, O Lord, Thy will be done! 
 
 September, 1918 
 
O BELLS AND SIRENS 
 
 RING out, wild bells! Let every siren sound 
 The expected tidings to the country round! 
 With clamorous tongue and many-throated voice, 
 Call forth the people that they may rejoice! 
 
 Tell of an armistice; of regnant Right 
 
 In fullest triumph over humbled Might; 
 
 Of freedom's blessings for the whole world won 
 
 Through the enforced surrender of the Hun. 
 
 But, lest by premature delirium 
 Our nation should again be overcome, 
 O Bells and Sirens, in the name of ruth, 
 Await the issue and proclaim the truth! 
 
 November %th } 1918 
 
 89 
 
REFLECTIONS FOLLOWING THE 
 ARMISTICE 
 
 THE agony is ended. 
 Our fearful task is done, 
 The long night dissipated 
 
 And the victory nobly won; 
 The Teuton, now, is suppliant, 
 
 Dreading the chastening rod . . . 
 And yet there are some people 
 Who say there is no God. 
 
 Stripped bare of pomp and power, 
 
 Down from his throne is hurled 
 The once puissant monarch 
 
 Who threatened all the world. 
 Self-exiled, seeking safety, 
 
 He flees his native sod . . . 
 And yet there are some people 
 
 Who say there is no God. 
 
 With the crimson flood's subsidence 
 And a righteous Peace in sight, 
 
 With the hand of Justice clutching 
 The cowering form of Might, 
 
 90 
 
With the day of retribution 
 So surely come — 'tis odd, 
 
 That any reasoning mortal 
 
 Should doubt there is a God! 
 
 November 12th, 1918 
 
 91