Book__i^S^y^7 CopynghtNi i^ COPYRIGHT DEPOSm Prohibition Poems and Other Verse m By Frank E. Herrick Published for the Author By BRETHREN PUBLISHING HOUSE Elgin, Illinois Copyright, 1914 By Frank E. Herrick SEP 14 r9l4 -U380342 DEDICATION I dedicate this book of mine To one like a snow-covered pine Crowned with light ; Yet with heart of Spring below Eighty years of drifted snow Of ermine white. My Mother, to whose life doth cling All the gentleness of Spring In its prime ; And the richness manifold Of the hoard of harvest gold In Summertime! All the flowers in between Spring and Autumn's russet sheen Are a part Of her life, and still abide — By the Winter glorified — In her heart! Eighty years of life have set Gems within her coronet Of whitened hair; Rich beyond the tinseled things That the crowned consorts of kings Proudly wear! All there is within this book Of worth or strength or beauty took All its grace From the imprint of her mind, Genteel nature and refined. Kindly face! PROEM I do not seek Parnassian heights Nor wish to wear the bays Won by Fancy's fruitless flights Or sweet and soulless lays! But I would dwell among mankind And share their joy and woe, So close that my short-sword can find The red heart of my foe! I only wish the gift of song As I wish for a brand To cleave the brazen casques of wrong And free my native land! To manumit the sodden slave In strong drink's galling chains, And stir my comrades to be brave On Freedom's battle plains ! Swift Pegasus I would but ride As warriors ride their steeds With spur and saber crimson dyed In doing Duty's deeds! Not for me to drift and dream On peaceful seas apart, But the red and pulsing stream That courses through the heart; Nor sit and sing the senseless songs That lull the soul to sleep While raging strong drink's thousand wrongs Rush on with ruthless sweep ! I would only strike the string Upon the Harp of Life Which to comrade souls shall bring New courage for the strife ! Other men may sing of Seas And Morn and Moon and Stars, I only ask from all of these The sword and shield of Mars ! My militant and martial pen Shall never seek its sheath Until the close of conflict, when We win the victors' wreath! Against the curse while life abides Let the great charge be led With battle-songs, like Ironsides With Cromwell at its head! CONTENTS DEDICATION 3 PROEM 5 PROHIBITION The American Flag (song), 11 The Prohibitionist 12 The Field, the Foe and the Sword 14 Appeal to the Columbus Convention 15 The Prohibition Pen 18 Illinois 20 The Prohibition Backslider 22 The Church Somnolent 24 The New Star in the West 25 The W. C. T. U. (song) 27 The Female of the Species 28 To a New Knight 30 To Charles H. Poole 31 We Boys 32 A Lesson from a Legend 33 The Fiend of Drink 37 Seen in Chicago 42 ALMA MATER Wheaton College 55 The College of Honor and Fame (song) 56 Alumni Thoughts 57 Wheaton, the School We Love Dearest (song) 62 Wheaton College Alumni Song 63 Ode to Wheaton College 64 The Graduates' Farewell (song) 67 The Old Society Hall 68 The Excelsiors' Farewell (sons:) 70 Farewell to the Seniors 72 MISCELLANEOUS, MINOR AND PERSONAL Mater Carissima (song) 77 " De Senectute " 79 The Angel Israfel 81 The Dead Year 82 Voyage of " The Sunbeam " 84 Straying Thoughts 85 Memorial Day (song) 87 Flag of the Eight and Forty Stars 88 Dewey, the Pride of the Navy (song) 89 The Boys in the Blue (song) 90 The Inward Monitor 92 A Thanksgiving Thought 93 A Christmas Salute 94 Despair 94 The Golden Wedding 95 Pure Friendship 96 A Rose for Remembrance 99 An Appreciation 101 From a Wayfarer 103 To a Sick Friend 104 To a College Friend 105 An Easter Greeting 106 A Thanksgiving Day Muse 107 Memories that Make Us Strong 110 To a Friend in Sorrow's Shadows 114 PROHIBITION THE AMERICAN FLAG (Tune: "America") O emblem of the free, How beautiful to see Thy folds unfurled In colors rich and warm, Like rainbow's noble form Sun-painted on the storm Arching the world! Thy field of beauty vies With midnight's starry skies Surpassing grand. From sunset's rosy glow Each blood-red beam doth throw Across thy field of snow A crimson band! O banner of the brave In splendor thou dost wave In Freedom's name; With deeds for heroes meet Thy story is replete. And fort and field and fleet Attest thy fame! Beneath thy lustrous fold Of beauties yet untold May we abide And every ill abate That doth reproach a state, Or stain a nation, great And glorified! 11 Before thy stars may Drink That leads us to the brink Where nations die, Fall prostrate in the dark, Like Dagon cold and stark Before Jehovah's ark In years gone by! THE PROHIBITIONIST A Puritan in things of state With heart to dare and soul to wait And never-flinching faith that right shall surely win; Piercing with his eagle eyes Through the veils of compromise And the schemes of men and parties for perpetuating sin! A soldier-sentry on the height At the breaking of the light Blowing a clear reveille to every sleeping tent, Sending forth a ringing note From the silver trumpet's throat Like a war-cry and a challenge by a fearless foeman sent! Undismayed by sore defeat; Bugle sounding a retreat, Truce or armistice or parley never touched his lip, But his quenchless spirit rose With the number of his foes And he clutched his sword and buckler with a stronger grip! 12 He looked on the nation's vice Of selling sanction for a price To poison, stain and blast the noblest things of life And his soul burst into flame At his country's sin and shame And uncompromising fury keyed him to a fiercer strife ! He beheld the tragic lives Of the drunkards in the gyves And the shackles that were forged by freemen at the polls, And the men who heard the cry And still scornfully passed by With the haughty spirit of their little Levite souls! Feeling for his fellows' fate Stirred him to a righteous hate, Filled his breast with sorrow and his eyes with tears. As the Master's eyes were wet When he saw from Olivet The city soon to meet his love with mockery and jeers ! Heart of Luther, strong and brave, Lovejoy's pity for the slave, Soul and sword of Cromwell fighting with his foes, Strength be to your shining steel, Fire to your flaming zeal, Victory to your valor and your rain of righteous blows ! June 12, 1914. 13 THE FIELD, THE FOE AND THE SWORD The battle-field is at the polls, And only there The drum of real conflict rolls And trumpets blare ; There only foes meet foes and feel The shock of shield and stroke of steel! The only menace to the foe Is there displayed ; All else is vain and mimic show And dress parade. The curse and prayer and bitter tear They do not notice, feel or fear! Behind the frowning battlement The law has built. Deep-moated by the State's consent To share their guilt, The liquor legions take no note Of aught, except the snow-white vote ! But they behold with startled eyes And bated breath The ballot in whose circle lies The seal of death ; The message evil Eglon heard Is their doom but a day deferred. Yes, they see — and are afraid With mortal dread — In ballot-panoply arrayed And mighty tread The soldiers stern and strong in will Who come to conquer, smite and kill. 14 O comrades of the snow-white plume, The ballot brand Shall be the thunderbolt of doom Within your hand To blast the monster of our day And end his soul-appalling sway. APPEAL TO THE COLUMBUS CONVENTION O men from every corner drawn To think upon a people's ills, The trembling twilight tips the hills A herald of the coming Dawn! Come and be separate and apart Nor joined to the consenting throngs — The sponsors for the mighty wrongs When ballots voice a nation's heart! Renounce the parties and the creeds That are at peace with all this woe, That do not wish its overthrow And back desire by their deeds ! Put all your idols to the sword, Break down the altars of the past And in repentant fires cast The images you have adored! Wipe off the base, inglorious dust From sycophant and cringing knee And be men worthy to be free Or fit to die, if die you must ! How came this monster in the land And why do men with open eyes Look on the evil compromise And sanction all that sin has planned? 15 Who placed this blight upon the brain, This canker in a nation's breast, And for the gold that he possessed Permitted him to stay and reign? Who framed the system of consent, Who taught the profit-sharing creeds And girt with law the vicious deeds That leveled Virtue's battlement? Who is the graven god that men Clad in the livery of light Offer the sacrifice of right And homage of the tongue and pen? The license party god with gold And power and a great array Has led a weakling host astray And cursed the land with plagues untold ! His devotees have all defiled Themselves with dark and inky stains And spread a net of iron chains To snare and slay the Future's child! From his vile worship has sprung up Upon the homestead of the free The poison-bearing Upas tree Whose distillation is the cup! They burned incense upon the hills And builded altars in the groves And for the fishes and the loaves Made profit from the people's ills! They came upon a virgin soil. By law and Nature pure and free, 16 And for a paltry license fee They sold concessions to despoil! They smote in twain the sacred shield — The aegis of the Common Law — And with exulting hearts they saw It trampled on the battle-field ! In vain you talk of right and truth, And you become a theme for scorn, When they of whom this woe was born Receive your sanction in the booth! The gain of tainted gold is loss, As the liquors Christians send To darkened heathen lands but tend To make a mockery of the Cross! The parties that with purpled hands Feed full the winepress of our woe Nor seek to check its overflow Are only liquor's vassal bands! Your fellowship with them forsake Whose creed in state craft is to give Consent and countenance to live Of all the havoc Drink can make! Four-square against them meet the hordes That planted in the public health This cancer of the Commonwealth, And show the temper of your swords! November 13, 1913. 17 THE PROHIBITION PEN My dearest friends, thanks for the pen, The weapon reckoned among men More mighty than the sword, Yet whose peaceful works are crowned With bays of victory more renowned Than war's red fields afford! You have placed within my hand A weapon greater than the brand Of imperial Charlemagne, And an instrument of fear More dreaded than the iron spear Upon the battle plain ! Indeed, a goodly pen is more Than sword and buckler in this war Where you have bravely led; A conflict that shall ne'er produce An armistice or flag of truce 'Till every foe hath fled! Now what more fitting can I do Than dedicate myself anew And my new golden pen To the dear cause wherein we all Are struggling to disenthrall Our drink bound fellow men? May its ceaseless fountain flow Against this soul-appalling woe That shrouds the sunny earth, That ever tolls its dismal knells And muffles all the silver bells Of childhood's joy and mirth ! 18 May I keep this good pen bright By knightly deeds until the light Goes down upon the strife, With strokes " to right the wrong " allied To good Excalibar, the pride Of Arthur's blameless life! O comrades true, who bravely stand To cleanse and purge our goodly land Of all its deadly ills. May you wear the victor's crown Before your mortal suns go down Behind the twilight hills ! But if you never see that day Yet your free, fair children may And glory in the part That you bore in the ruthless fight Through the long and starless night With leal and loyal heart! Oh, may the victory be near And soon the star of peace appear To greet your waiting eyes, As shepherds saw in years afar The peace proclaiming herald star In soft Judean skies! (On receipt of a fountain pen as a Christmas gift from Mr. and Mrs. Alonzo E. Wilson.) 19 ILLINOIS O Commonwealth of mighty men, State of Emancipation's pen And lustrous stars untold As when the banner of the night Gemmed with constellations bright Unfurls its starry fold! State within whose confines wide Young, heroic Lovejoy died A martyr for the slave, And o'er whose prairies where he slept A hundred shouting legions swept To glory's gory grave! State of the silent soldier who Led the heroic hosts of blue Through flame and battle scars To keep our seamless flag unrent, And unbroken in the firmament The cluster of its stars! Thine is a heritage more great And precious than the proud estate Of all the kings of time; Thy legacy a glorious part Of true nobility of heart And fortitude sublime! O Illinois, the richest gem In fair Columbia's diadem Of stars serene and grand, With pride and swelling hearts we see The bounties lavished upon thee From Nature's open hand! 20 Thine opulent and lordly fields Whose never-failing harvest yields Its wealth of golden corn, And mines of treasure, deep and dim, That overflows the spreading brim Of Plenty's copious horn ! All blessings, mighty State, are thine Abundant as the stars that shine In midnight's gorgeous dome; Wealth and noble sons whose bays Are greener than the palmy days Of old imperial Rome! But all of these shall naught avail. My brothers, if we basely fail To bravely do our parts. For there are evils now as great And perilous to this proud State As fired our fathers' hearts ! Oh, there are enemies within — Strong, defiant, law-girt sin And open, sanctioned crime. And decadent moralists who wink At the red traffic in strong drink — The tragedy of our time! For a morsel of vile gold Have our sunken statesmen sold The dearest things of earth. Sold and bartered for a fee Hope of youth, and childhood's glee And overflowing mirth! With brazen insolence they plead. Rich sovereign State, thy crying need 21 Of the price of blood, To build thy highways and sustain The cities of thy fertile plain By murder's crimson flood! O trumpet of the Past, impart Once more that spirit to the heart Of every loyal son That made our fathers' hearts of yore Leap up to battle at the roar Of Sumter's opening gun! Dear Illinois, in this fierce strife Thy fame, thy honor and thy life Are in the balance cast, And valiant sons of thine today Must do as mighty deeds as they Who made thy glorious past! That th' Liberator's home shall see All of its drink-bound bondmen free From all the chains they wear, By thy soldiers' scattered shrines 'Neath the palmettoes and the pines. Our solemn vows we swear! January 20, 1913. THE PROHIBITION BACKSLIDER O faltering and unstable man, Weak and fearful, lacking zeal, Dim-visioned, void of power to scan The depths dividing woe and weal. Too weary to abide the dawn. And tempted by the lust to win; 22 An heir of light who put in pawn His birthright for the spoils of sin! Once in his heart the fire burned Bright as the royal orb of day, But now the fervent heat has turned From glowing red to ashen gray! Once a proud soldier in the host That stands for the eternal right, He fled despairing from his post Amid the seeming hopeless fight! He who once stood on our side First faltered, fled, then joined the foe And all he loved before, denied. And strongly wrought to work us woe ! Before him right and wrong arose And claimed liege service of his might; He saw and knew, but basely chose The darkness rather than the light ! The light within him became dark ; So deep that darkness and so great That death and doom can only mark The tincture of its inky state! Deserter in the hour of need, Of base born appetite that seeks Again in captive fields to feed. Like Israel longing for the leeks! Sit not in judgment harsh and grim Nor hold him by an iron rule, In charity according him The pity portioned to the fool! April 18, 1912. 23 THE CHURCH SOMNOLENT The Christ-commissioned Church asleep Sent to subdue a sinful world, While sins to make the angels weep Parade with all their flags unfurled! The Church that warred against the Moor And drove the Saracen and Turk, Fear-palsied pauses weak and poor Before the great unfinished work! O Church we know your high-blown pride And list your self-crowned moral worth, By acts and things undone belied " By day and night throughout the earth. The mighty sword within your hand Is coated with inglorious rust, A jest and byword in the land, A mockery that none will trust! The great red Dragon, surnamed Drink, Before your eyes has grown to might And 'neath his frown you quake and shrink Like cravens fearful of a fight ! You have the power in your arm, His life and death is in your hands ; Yet in your reach, secure from harm. The rampant demon safely stands! You give consent to death for gold And sell your sanction for a fee. And shield him by the starry fold Of our sweet emblem of the free! 24 Apologist for evil days, Of all your ancient virtues shorn, Contemptible in the public gaze And pilloried in the stocks of scorn ! THE NEW STAR IN THE WEST A new star shines in the golden West Above the portals of the ebbing day, Over a happy land and blest Where kings and queens hold equal sway. A child of valor and the love Of California's golden slope — That splendid star now shines above The cradle of a new-born hope. It is the morning star that gleams As herald of the joyous day That slaves have seen alone in dreams Since Wrong has held its iron sway. It shines, the hope of half the race — The wise, the good, the fair — Bright in its fixed abiding place, Agleam in Freedom's taintless air. Yes, dawn breaks at the gates of night And toward the East the shadows fall Like sharp, accusing fingers that indict The sluggard conscience of us all. Half fettered 'neath our Eastern dome, Full freedom in the boundless West, Night where the sunrise has its home, Day where the great orb sinks to rest. 25 Full panoplied to guard her own, There queen with king stands as a peer, Armed to defend the common throne — A right divine denied her here. And age-long ill that never dies While man, and man alone, is lord Beholds with fear and startled eyes The new foe and the bright new sword. O women worthy of the trust To guard the Occidental land, Keep bright by parry and by thrust The new sword given to your hand ! Oh, throw the useless scabbard down, And never sheathe the shining steel While evil thrives beneath the crown Of our imperial Commonweal! An evil giant, blind with hate And surnamed Drink — of demon breed — Has seized the pillars of our State And shakes each like a feeble reed. And coward souls and shallow minds Accord him place and honor too. Because with his great strength he grinds And pays the tithes of mint and rue. Against this author of all ill The main assault and siege must be, And the one weapon that will kill Is yours — the vote that makes you free ! (Oft the Woman's Suffrage victory in California.) 26 Song THE W. C. T. U. (Tune: "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean") O host of our brave home defenders ! O white-robed reformers so true, Like the rainbow's seven-hued splendors. The promise of the world is in you. O brave hearts who feared not nor fainted A triumphal arch lifts its form On the world's darkest cloud brightly painted, Across the black brow of the storm. Across the black brow of the storm, Across the black brow of the storm, On the world's darkest cloud brightly painted. Across the black brow of the storm! The armies of midnight and morning Are met on the fierce fields of war. And the bugles have blown their wild warning ; Then brave band be true to the core ! The darkness and light are contending For the life and the death of the world. But in scorn of all peril impending, Keep your flag ever proudly unfurled, Keep your flag ever proudly unfurled, Keep your flag ever proudly unfurled, But in scorn of all peril impending. Keep your flag ever proudly unfurled! O men, 'rouse and rise from your sleeping! And join this great moral crusade, The poor world is weary with weeping O'er the ruin and wreck rum has made. n For the homes and the hearts sad and broken, And the hopes turned to ashes and dust, Let the death-sentence swiftly be spoken, And the judgment will be true and just. And the judgment will be true and just, And the judgment will be true and just, Let the death-sentence swiftly be spoken. And the judgment will be true and just ! And the hope of the home and the nation Through trials and triumphs shall stand, And peal forth their proud proclamation. To the rum-shackled slaves of the land! Then will haloes of glory surround them Like the saints in the pictures we see. When the laurels of victory have crowned them, And the bondmen of drink shall be free, And the bondmen of drink shall be free. And the bondmen of drink shall be free. When the laurels of victory have crowned them. And the bondmen of drink shall be free ! "THE FEMALE OF THE SPECIES" When you see the bums and brewers and the riffraff of the land Out opposing votes for women with a zeal to beat the band You can mark it down as certain as the signs that never fail That the female of the species is more deadly than the male! When the crooked politician begins to froth and foam And proclaim that woman's province is the precinct of the home 28 'Tis a sign he knows destruction is camping on his trail And that the female of the species is more deadly than the male ! When the hypocrite sky pilot crawls behind Apostle Paul And says women should keep silence he has less of sense than gall For without the goodly women surely Satan would prevail, But the female of the species is more deadly than the male! When the liquor license parties very pointedly and clear Tell the great white ribbon army to be seated in the rear It is simple as a primer to a graduate of Yale That the female of the species is more deadly than the male! When the grafting legislator, who buys his way with booze Votes to keep from womankind her just and legal dues He has an eye for business — that of keeping out of jail— For the female of the species is more deadly than the male! Be men and give her credit due and power to her arm, And only place within her reach the foe that worketh harm Then shall the wicked flee away like chaff before the gale For the female of the species is more deadly than the male! January 1, 1912. 29 TO A NEW KNIGHT This is your year of Jubilee When to your lawful rights restored You share the blessings of the free — The purple and the sovereign sword ! I see in you the splendid zeal Of new knight in his maiden mail, With golden spurs and bright, new steel And brave heart that shall never quail ! But you must wage a wiser fight, Not clad in mail with iron mace — For in all the livery of light The foemen stand whom you must face ! Not in the thick-necked thug (indeed, The least of all the foe is he) The danger lies, nor in the breed That pours the poison for a fee. But in those men of high estate Whose consciences are dead and sere, And those poor souls who also hate But hate him with a coward's fear. And those loud warriors who, forsooth, Curse him until their words are spent — Then in the secret, silent booth Write out their sanction and consent! You know his wiles as well as I O youthful knight, both brave and wise, And his chief snare and gilded lie — The smooth, seductive compromise! 30 Although we fight on different fields And in separate armies far apart We bear the selfsame make of shields And the common cause upon the heart ! Enlisted till the war shall end — No drums, no plumes, no prancing steeds- I hope to share with you, brave friend, The comradeship of knightly deeds! And woe betide the robber chief That holds as captive this fair land And levies tribute from its grief To keep him and his vassal band! TO HON. CHARLES H. POOLE On his departure for New Zealand. (After Byron's " Napoleon's Farewell ") Farewell to the friend who today is returning To the home that lies under the bright Southern Cross Where skies with strange constellations are burning Unmoved by our sorrow, untouched by our loss. A comrade and counsellor wise and true-hearted In the prime of his prowess is leaving our shore — Still a comrade-in-arms, though by seas we are parted For great is this conflict and world-wide this war. Farewell to thee, friend; to this Drink-ravaged nation Thou camest aflame, like the dawn in the East, Illuming the way towards the great consummation When its wounds have been healed and its sorrows have ceased; 31 To the sleeping a herald with clear trumpet pealing, A panoplied Prince in the front of the fray, A white-plumed knight in the host that is sealing The doom of the scourge of the nations today. Farewell, soldier true; when the victory breaking Like the Sun in his armor routing the Night Brings the long jubilee to the hearts that are aching In the thraldom of Drink with its bane and its blight And the night of defeat shall give way to the morning And the grand review close the wearisome march, Then again we shall see thee, bright-laurelled, adorn- ing And leading a host 'neath the triumphal arch! Farewell to thee, friend ; with us thou art leaving Sweet memories fair as the rose-spangled mead That shall blossom again in the mystical weaving Of the looms of the years yet to come, as they speed. May the warfare with Drink and its soul-stirring story And the common cause keep us as one in the fight. Though we differ in deeds as differ in glory The gems in the star-sown fields of the Night! October 10. 1913. WE BOYS We are the boys who will be men Not many years from now, and then If any wrong is living yet — Like whiskey, beer or cigarette — We'll join the army of the " drys " And fight that wrong until it dies! 32 We are temperance laddies now And we promise, pledge and vow With our hands upon our hearts That never until life departs Shall one of us e'er do so much As ever even lightly touch Tobacco with our finger tips, Or put the poison to our lips ! We will be the kind of boys Who are the jewels and the joys Of teachers and our mothers, too. In all we try and say and do ; And we will fight hardest of all Tobacco and King Alcohol! December 5, 1913. (Written for small boys' Sunday School class of Gary Memorial Church, Wheaton, Illinois.) A LESSON FROM A LEGEND As the little infant Hercules one quiet night lay sleep- ing In the hollow concave of his father's brazen shield, There came two huge and slimy, sinuous serpents creeping — The most subtle creatures of the beasts of all the field. Into the guarded chamber where the little giant sleeper Lay in his cradle confines, v/rapped in peaceful dreams, They glided soft and swiftly, peering deep and deeper With eyes that glowed and glittered with infernal gleams. In vain had the midnight drawn close its inky cur- tain. And spread its sable counterpane upon his cozy bed, 33 But in his brazen crib where safety seemed most cer- tain, Within a shield, unshielded, lay his defenceless head. With their swelling crests ablaze, uplifted and defiant, And fangs dripping poison like an envenomed dart, They leered and looked upon the little sleeping giant. Then arched their sinewy necks to strike him through the heart. But just then little Hercules awoke from his deep dreaming. And saw the hissing monsters' horrid, hell-like leer. Their cloven tongues swift-darting and fiery eyeballs gleaming And frightful fangs directed to pierce him like a spear. Then quickly as the shimmering, vivid lightning leap- ing Like a sword drawn swiftly from the ebon sheath of night. Just as the deadly blows were ruthlessly down sweep- ing He caught the bolts descending midway in their flight. Around the throat he seized each hideous monster tightly And choked and strangled one to death with either hand. And the fierce and fiendish eyes which once had burned so brightly Grew lusterless and dark as death, or midnight in the land. Of all his combats with the giants and all his mighty labors Until the day he perished wrapped in his burning shroud, 34 Above the bloody triumphs of war-clubs and of sabers, Of the slaughter of the serpents he was ever the most proud. There are ten million cradles in this fair land of oars Where innocence and infancy are so serenely sleeping ; But here as in the Paradise of Eden's fairest flowers The subtle, wily tempters come ever closer creeping. There is no love-charmed chamber which they cannot enter, And no cradle-shield however embossed and girt with love. Though bound with brazen bands that run from side to center And inlaid with gold and gems bright as the stars above. In every face they breathe their pestilential vapors, And strangle every virtue within their cruel coils. And on every fireside altar Love's ever-burning tapers Have seen some fearful sacrifice of their most ruthless spoils. In their stings are potent poisons ever stronger grow- ing, And corrosive compounds of more consuming fire Than all the cups with hellebore and hemlock over- flowing, Or " juice of cursed hebenon " that slew Hamlet's noble sire. Not alone through hut and hovel, but all ranks and races, Black as Stygian slime, their poison pathway runs, As when in the Trojan temple, even in the holy places. The mighty serpents slew the priest and all his sons. 35 Fast and fierce, with flaunting flags the demon host advances, And we are the warrior-warders who must watch and guard the wall, We must shoot our swiftest arrows, and throw our sharpest lances, Or the holiest city e'er besieged — the holy home — will fall. And " woe to him by whom it cometh," let the warn- ing words be spoken. Know the tick of every second is the death-dirge of a soul. And they who sleep will lose the portion of the prom- ise never broken. As from his bosom, while he slept, poor Christian lost his roll. Now the need is men of valor who will not retreat or cower. And those in high and holy places who their prowess will employ In a temper of true chivalry as " when knighthood was in flower," Not sit like senile Priam helpless on the walls of Troy. The fierce and lordly liquor serpents, above these cradles bending. Must be straightway seized and strangled or every- thing is lost ! With our own hands we must slay them, v^e must do our own defending. With a spirit, faith and fortitude, that nothing can exhaust ! 36 Then let the sword be never sheathed, but keep it red and reeking; With the fiery blood of dragons let it stream and drip, Till the dawning of that blessed day which all good men are seeking, When the poison cup no more shall touch or tempt a human lip! (Read before the convention of the Illinois Inter-Col- legiate Prohibition Association, in Wheaton College Chapel, May 30, 1901.) THE FIEND OF DRINK We are now out in the world Where the banners are unfurled Of all the pirate crafts of crime and awful sin With the crossbones and the skulls Blazoned on their hideous hulls And the death's head at the mainmast with its grew- some grin. And these social buccaneers Are cruel and immune to tears As ever fierce free-booters out on the Spanish Main, And they claim the ghastly tolls Of blighted, seared and ruined souls And bodies scarred and branded with the mark of Cain. And the craven world stands by Like poor fools afraid to die And pays inglorious tribute to these red-handed men ; With a base terror overcome And with a moral palsy dumb They stand inert beholders mute in tongue and pen. n As the cruel ocean surge Sings its sad and doleful dirge Of the tragedies and wrecks out on the raging seas So the earth sends up its cries Like the ceaseless clouds that rise From the awful pit to which Apollyon holds the keys. And the direst demon here With the most malicious leer Is the fiery fiend of Drink with legions in his train ; He the king of human woes And the chief of all of those That rallied with the Dragon on Armageddon's plain. All the other demons grim Are but liegemen unto him And his loyal vassal serfs are Murder, Lust and Lies ; He is high-priest and the chief Of the yeggmen and the thief And the libertines and reprobates and all the evil eyes. He is the life-blood of the bawd And the perjurer and the fraud And the gamblers and plug-uglies and all their kith and kin ; He is Anarchy's right hand And hurls the bomb and brand, And the incentive and promoter of every form of sin. Like the fabled Gorgon-stare And Medusa's snaky hair He turns the bosom into flint and hearts to hardest stones. And his highest fiendish joy Is to blight some budding boy — Then break his mother's heart and mock her piteous moans. 38 Fraternal strife is his content And his choice music a lament And a villain-visaged mortal is his finished man ; He holds a broken heart a charm And peace a trumpet of alarm — He puts a premium upon ill and the good things under ban. And in all his vile regime There is not a single gleam In excuse or palliation to redeem his evil sway, And the strangest, saddest thing With most humiliating sting Is that men should tolerate him in their purlieus for a day. But degenerates in brain With the morally insane Throw around this brutal demon the safeguards of the law ; And the sacred shield that should Safely keep the weak and good Only guards this baneful beast while he fills his hun- gry maw. But of moral beings frail They are the lowest in the scale Of invertebrates and mollusks and sponge and jelly- fish, Who with coward souls and cold Take his vile and tainted gold And pander to his power and court his evil wish. With the blood that he has shed All their hands are reeking red 39 As partners and accessories with knowledge and con- sent, For the many and the strong Cannot make a right of wrong Though sanctioned by the multitude and Christian President. With this monster we abhor We must wage relentless war And with courage, craft and cunning meet his wiles and snares And his fierceness all in one Of Vandal, Gaul and Goth and Hun And Tartars, Turks and Saracens and hungry wolves and bears. Oh, but what can cleanse and purge This world from the curse and scourge? Will it ever be till earth shall melt with fervent heat? When the firmament shall roll All together like a scroll And the cycle of the Universe at last shall be com- plete? When amid the encircling gloom Earth shall hear the blast of doom And die beneath the dire eclipse and blood-bedarkened suns While our mighty system reels With the shock and deafening peals And the awful roar and thunder of great Jehovah's guns! But we have a crescent hope, Still victoriously to cope With the fierce invader and break his battle-lines 40 And make this ravaged land once more As pure as Eden was of yore Ere the subtle serpent entered with his fell designs. We must, till his doom is sealed And his henchmen fly the field Use every craft and strategy and art of cruel war ; Attack by mines and ambuscade, Front and rear and enfilade, Till blank annihilation ends his reign for evermore. And we among the faithful few Must be doubly brave and true To offset the v.'eak allegiance of half-hearted men Who have no anchor to their hope And cannot see beyond the scope Of the little field of vision of their mortal ken. But we know we cannot fail, For right is might and shall prevail, And just a passing cloud is a bitter, losing fight, But the victory shall be won Completely as the rising sun Routs with his shining spears the sable hosts of night. Now with our spirits unsubdued And with our fealty renewed Let us wear the amaranth of hope upon our hearts. Until the Prohibition cause With its code of righteous laws Shall extend its jurisdiction to the earth's remotest parts ! November 25, 1909. 41 AS SEEN IN CHICAGO Should you ask me, whence these stories? Whence these tales so dark and tragic, Whence these tales of tears and trouble, Tales of villains and their victims. All these songs of sin and sorrow. All these undertones of sadness? Should you ask me I should tell you Would reply to you as follows: They are tales I see imprinted In the haggard face of hunger; They are tales I hear repeated By the pallid lips of famine. They are tales that I find written In the withered hand of beggars. They are dirges that are chanted At the death of soul and body In the dark and dreadful drama Of the life of rum-cursed mortals. They are sounds that rise forever To the ears of men and angels From the heart of this great city Like the smoke that rises ever From the pit that has no bottom. I repeat them as I heard them And I paint their form and features Standing out like sculptured figures And in bold relief depicted As I see them from Mount Ego, As a thousand times I saw them As a thousand times I heard them. Weird and wild and sad and dismal, You have seen them, heard them, felt them, 42 And you know well what I tell you. By the beautiful blue waters Of a Great Lake in the Northland Stands the city of Chicago, Stands the greatest of all cities, Like a mighty giant Cyclops Standing by his forge and stithy Tossing to the sky above him From his forge and furnace chimneys Black and white plumes to the heavens, While his hammers ring and thunder As in the days of gods and giants When the mighty blacksmith Vulcan Forged for Mars his mighty armor; Blessed above all other cities, Also cursed with plagues the blackest. But the blackest of all curses And the source and spring and fountain And the cause of all the others Is the great saloon, the demon. King and first of all offenders. He it is who causes murder. Causes anarchy and murder; He it is who fills the prisons. He it is who kills all virtue. By his Gorgon-stare the bosom Into stone is straight transmuted. All that feels his touch is tainted ; By his right hand homes are ruined, By his scepter hearts are broken, By his brutal feet the helpless Are crushed and trampled without mercy. By his presence hopes are blighted And before his index finger 43 All that's innocent and gentle All that's good and true and pure Flee away and shrink and shrivel Fall and fade and die and wither Like the withered leaves of winter When the icy winds assail them. Of such deeds he is the author That methinks they would have surely Made the spot of shame grow crimson In the cheek and brazen forehead Of Babylon, the great and wicked Mother of Abomination; Would have shocked the slums of Sodom, Shocked those submerged, fire-deluged, Flame-enshrouded, brimstone-buried Cities of the plain that perished. From his confines come the causes Of all woe and wreck and ruin As the winds came from the caverns Where iEolus held in fetters All the wrathful winds of heaven. As before the fearful onslaughts Of the thunder-throated tempest When both men and mountains tremble, Fairest fields and grandest forests. Fragile flowers, stately cedars. Giant oaks and pliant willows; Shudder, quake and quail and quiver, Bow and bend and break and perish. And behind it on its war-trail Follows death and desolation Blacker even than the cloud-rack Which went on before the tempest; So before the blasting, blighting, 44 Furious deadly storms that issue From the rum-fiends' gilded caverns (The ante-chambers of perdition By the law engirt and guarded) Come all baneful, direful, fatal Plagues and crimes and sins and curses Charged with death as clouds with lightning, Charged with poisonous exhalations Like the breathing of a serpent; With the poison breath of breweries With the latent seeds of sickness With the fetid fumes of fever With the nauseating vapors Of both malt and malted liquors, With all miasmatic odors From the fens of fermentation From the piles of putrid pomace From distilleries and gin mills From the wine-press and the bar-room. Puffing forth their vile contagions In the nostrils of creation. Breath of poisonous decoctions Breath of leperous distillment Breath of reason-wrecking spirits Deadly as the swift death-angel Passing, breathed into the faces Of the sleeping host that perished With Sennacherib's great army. And with all of these moreover Are the seven plagues commingled From the seven vials the angels Poured upon the earth and waters. Then upon the visitation Of this tempest of all terrors 45 Homes and hopes collapse and crumble, Souls are sunk as ships are sunken Going down in seas of sorrow. Every virtue is uprooted And left lying limp and lifeless ; Youth and age and grace and genius Are in the vortex of the whirlwind Dragged to death, disgrace, dishonor; And the glorious goddess Reason Driven from her throne resplendent. Forced to flight and abdication, Leaves her former fair dominions In incoherent interregnum And her sacred throne is usurped By the insane kings of darkness And the drunken, brutish forces Of the regicides of reason. Of the Vandals of all virtue ; Then is Liberty's fair temple Rent in twain from top to bottom; Not one stone upon another Is left of that stately structure; And along the storm-swept pathway There is nothing but a desert. Only flints and shards remaining Save perhaps a ghastly relic, As upon the great Sahara Skeletons and bones are scattered Bleaching in the sand and sunshine ; Gloomy, ghastlier and darker Is the death-trail of the rum-fiend Than are all the scenes that follow In the wild wake of the cyclone Or the scorching simoon's pathway. 46 Yet in the city of Chicago From the meanest to the Mayor All the people know of these things, Know whence all of this arises, And throughout the State and Nation Both laity and clergy know it. Know the rum-shop is the hot-bed Where the evil seeds are planted Where they germinate and flourish Where they grow in rank profusion As poison as they are prolific. Though the people see and know this Yet they pass by without protest. Pass by like the scornful Levite When he saw his neighbor wounded And refused to give assistance. Hardened, cruel, unfraternal. If still further you should ask me Why is this and with what reason? Why is all of this permitted. Why this ruthless reign of ruin Far more criminal and causeless Far more cruel, base and baseless Than the red regime of terror Which the streets of Paris witnessed When the Seine was changed to crimson And ran purple to the ocean? Should you ask me for the reason I would be compelled to answer Forced to say, Alas I know not. It transcends my comprehension, It is even past conjecture How a human hand can do it How a human heart can sanction, 47 How by ballots and by bullets It is strengthened and protected It is cradled, nursed and nurtured, Made a ward of law by license, When it should be made an outlaw Like an anarchist and traitor Like a pirate and a felon. If still further you should question And insist upon an answer, Asking me who are the authors Who responsible and guilty For these dens and dives and brothels ; The saloon with all its evils Past the power of pen to picture. I would answer to your query, "Would respond to you in this wise: Every man who holds a ballot Which he does not cast against it Is a partner in the business. Every church that stands indifferent Gives its sanction by its silence. Every man and every woman Who is not at war against it. Who is neutral in the conflict Is responsible and guilty; For are not all men commanded To fight iniquity and hate it? And not only is this monster By the sword of law protected Shielded by the sacred aegis, But the guards of law and order In whose hands are held the scepter Still allow him further license Unrestrained to roam triumphant 48 Into fields by law forbidden, Far beyond all legal limits, There to ravage, waste and ruin With impunity and safety, Undisturbed and unmolested. Just the other day a woman, Who for many years had suffered, Three and twenty years had suffered From the trespass of this demon Who beyond his jurisdiction Had assailed her home and husband. Sought the Chief Police for succor. Sought the chief of all the warders By the hand of law appointed. For relief she sought assistance, Told her tragic, tear-stained story, But the chief refused to answer, Would not notice her petition. Would not even stop to listen. Said with an impatient gesture That he had no time to hear her. Was too busy for such matters. And she went away disheartened, This poor woman worse than widow. Sick at heart with hopes all buried. Helpless, hopeless, worse than homeless. Like ten thousand other women By this vicious monster martyred. O you faithless, false officials, O you timid moral cowards, O you horde of heartless ruffians. All you cowering Christless Christians, All you " Cant and Canteen " preachers. All you Methodist beer Bishops, 49 All of liquor's pious puppets, All you poltroon politicians, All you supine moral mollusks With your vertebrateless virtue. You are all in condemnation For these crimes you see and sanction, All alike in common guilty For this curse has not come causeless That the innocent should suffer For the evil deeds of others, O you conscience-seared spectators Of this tragedy enacted Every day and every minute. Yes, and you self-righteous sinners With your white sins of omission. And you host of temperance talkers. Whose every word belies your ballots, Yes, you are your brother's keeper And his blood calls loudly to you From the ground is loudly crying. But my friends in arms be valiant. Be both valorous and patient. O my comrades in the conflict Keep the burnished blade uplifted, Keep it keen and red and reeking. Let it rise and fall incessant On this monster hydra-headed. Drive it through the joints and marrow As the mighty gladiators Drove the short sword through the armor. Plunged it through the brazen breast-plate. Clove in twain the casque and helmet, So assail this fiend infernal; Strip his legal vestments from him, SO Tear the vizor from his features, Take away his shield — his Hcense, Take the sword from out his right hand, From his left hand take his buckler, Without pity let him perish, Give his carcass to be eaten By the jackals, dogs and vultures. Let his soul die with his body. Let his offspring be attainted. Let his memory be accursed. Then will earth be nearer heaven And the world be more like Eden Ere the subtle serpent entered. Then will bread be more abundant, Then will hunger be forgotten, In the poor man's sacred cottage. Then above each crib and cradle Will the arch of hope be higher Will the rainbow shine more brightly. Brighter gleam the bow of promise In a hundred thousand places. Then will home and heaven be blended Be synonymous and sacred. Then will innocence and beauty Walk about secure and safely And hope and harmony forever Arm in arm will walk together. Then will this nation be exalted For righteousness alone exalteth. As in the darkness dreams are brightest Let us in the inky midnight Of our seeming hopeless struggle Keep our faces towards the sunrise. Ever hoping, never doubting 51 That we shall behold the daybreak, See the sun rise up resplendent Like a glittering herald coming To proclaim our day of triumph, For these things shall surely follow, Those who fear not, faint nor falter. Victory hath wings, remember, And oftentimes comes very swiftly When the foemen are the strongest And their very strength their weakness. It will come to this great nation. It will come to this great city, It will come and none can stop it. (Read at the Woman's Temple, Chicago, before the Y. P. C. T. U., December 12, 1901.) 52 ALMA MATER WHEATON COLLEGE A lighthouse flaming on the coast Of Time's wild, rock-embattled deep, Sends light to where the furthermost Lone lookouts their long vigils keep ! Fiercely the adverse winds of time Have beaten on that tower of stone ; But still, serene, steadfast, sublime. Its faithful beacon-blaze has shone. When clouds have wrapped earth in their pall, And left the night without a star, Doomed vessels in the tempest's thrall Have seen its warning light afar, And when the ocean plunged and rolled It stretched its arms of light to save. As good St. Christopher of old Bore pilgrim bands across the wave! The ocean thunders at its base. And mountain billows lash its form; Smote by the lightning's iron mace And loud artillery of the storm; Yet calm, unmindful of the shock. Strong in its builders' wise designs. Firm-planted on th' eternal Rock, It lifts its light-crowned head — and shines ! The years — those tides on Time's wide waste That ebb and ebb but never flow — Have never seen that light effaced Nor tremor in its steady glow! 55 Tranquil, majestic may it stand Where Life's mad breakers roar, and send Its radiance over sea and land Till all the storms of Time shall end ! May 25, 1912. Song THE COLLEGE OF HONOR AND FAME (Tune: "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean") O Wheaton the theme of our story, The College of honor and fame. In thy past and thy present we glory And with gratitude mention thy name, And our hearts are filled to o'erflowing With thanks for the years that have fled. For the blessings thou now art bestowing And the hope of the long years ahead And the hope of the long years ahead And the hope of the long years ahead For the blessings thou now art bestowing And the hope of the long years ahead ! May the coming years add to thy powers And shine as resplendently bright As blossom the glorious flowers In the firmament fields of the night. And we send up our song salutation 'Til the sky that is bending above Shall re-echo our deep admiration For the College we gratefully love! For the College we gratefully love For the College we gratefully love Shall re-echo our deep admiration For the College we gratefully love! 56 Oh, long have thy faith and devotion Stood the stress and the storms of the past As the beacons beside the wild ocean Meet the buffets of billow and blast. On thy lofty and grove-mantled station May thou stand 'til the end of the world With the flag of a purified nation Above thee in glory unfurled Above thee in glory unfurled Above thee in glory unfurled With the flag of a purified nation Above thee in glory unfurled! January 1, 1914. ALUMNI THOUGHTS (To a College mate of former years) O oft in retrospection, when We live o'er the past again. Like great Buddha meditating beneath the spreading bo, And behold the kindly ways We were guided through old days Then our swelling hearts confess the mighty debt we owe. And in full accord are we That the brightest spots we see. Like the hosts of burnished stars that fill the sky above. Are the student days we spent Here in peace and sweet content Beneath the noble Norman towers of the College that we love. 57 'Twas here in our plastic youth Stithied at the forge of truth That we were shaped and tempered for the wars to come, Trained and panopHed for strife In the nobler wars of life, Not the wars of blood and carnage and the battle drum. But 'twas anent the coming day Of the fiercer moral fray That we were taught the tactics by the bravest of the land, By those noble men and bold, Titan hearted, Vulcan souled, Who led and marshaled us and gave us the command. Warriors in the truceless fight Until the triumph of the right. In their fortitude sublime have we beheld them there, All like Caesar's soldiers leal, Linked to Cromwell's burning zeal, And with Lincoln's patient soul and Luther's heart to dare. And you know how good and grand Was the great leader of this band. With his noble crest resplendent as the helm of Mars And with a crown of glory bright As is the diadem of night Inlaid with blazing worlds and studded with the stars! As august and truly bold As Moses in the days of old (About whose body Lucifer and the archangel strove), 58 And on the moral battle plain Like imperial Charlemagne, And with the awe and majesty of cloud-compelling Jove. It was thus we saw his prime, But now upon that head sublime Have the hoary frosts and snows of Winter settled there, And on his god-like brow appears The pallor marks of many years And we note " his lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare." But a two-fold glory now Seems to halo him somehow And v/e love him even better than in the days of yore, When dark sin and error's place Fell before his mighty mace Like a mountain smitten by the iron sledge of Thor. Oh, yet may there be in store For our great teachers we adore A rich and sweeter aftermath than first-fruits of the mead; From Wisdom's lips a word of praise, From her right hand length of days And a wealth of Winter glories that nothing can exceed. Like stalwart sentinels they stood At duty's post for our good Through all the weak and sleeping hours of the long ago. And still may they ever stand 59 Like the pine trees green and grand In Winter's leafless forests capped with crowns of snow. Faithful Mentors were they all, As wise Gamaliel unto Paul, And our blessings rest upon them Hke a diadem ; Of such splendid men as these We are the heirs and legatees And our highest filial duty is to truly honor them. They gave to us a lofty code, They pointed out the royal road, They gave the card and compass for all the days to be ; Each rock and reef and shoal Between us and our goal They noted on the pilot-chart of Life's tempestous sea. The coast of luring siren's song, Every cove and reach of wrong That threatened to engulf or strand our little barque They marked down in v/ays that were So clear that none could ever err Although the trackless sea vv^as tempest-torn and dark. As guides beyond the outer bars They gave us fixed and gleaming stars And against the wind and current and list and under- tow They taught us how to tack and veer, To keep our courses true and clear With sleepless lookouts at the prow and all the lights aglow. Then how can those instructed here Make shipwreck of their life career 60 And drift like aimless derelicts the prey of tide and breeze, Upon the seething billows tossed With rudder gone and anchor lost, The menace, dread and terror of the travellers of the seas? How can they who here were fed And tasted the ambrosial bread Turn again with longing to the flesh-pots and the leeks And the drink of death endure Who here drank the draughts as pure As come from melting snows upon the mountain peaks? Why will men prefer to dine Upon the husks devoured by swine When meat and milk and honey are bountifully sup- plied ; Why will they pant and thirst and die With brimming rivers running by As fresh and welcome as the flood that flowed from Horeb's side! November 25, 1909. Song THE SCHOOL WE LOVE DEAREST (Tune: "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean") O Wheaton, the school we love dearest, O pride of the schools in the West, To our hearts thou art ever the nearest And thy precepts are purest and best. Oh, long may that grand Norman tower Which gladly and proudly we view, 61 Stand guard over us every hour Like a sentinel trusty and true Like a sentinel trusty and true Like a sentinel trusty and true Stand guard over us every hour Like a sentinel trusty and true ! Though tossed in the world's wild commotion Like ships in the midst of the sea " When winds are at war with the ocean," Our faith and our hope look to thee. And now while we sow for that reaping Which in life's harvest field is our part May we who are wards in thy keeping Keep close to thy great, glowing heart Keep close to thy great, glowing heart Keep close to thy great, glowing heart May we who are wards in thy keeping Keep close to thy great, glowing heart ! Let our lips tell the triumphant story And in tones that are lusty and strong Let thy greatness and good deeds and glory Be borne on the swift wings of song. May the songs that we sing stir and sweeten And keep green many memories dear And link us more closely to Wheaton The school that we love and revere The school that we love and revere The school that we love and revere And link us more closely to Wheaton The school that we love and revere ! 62 WHEATON COLLEGE ALUMNI SONG (Tune : " America ") O College great and free, Our songs arise to thee From grateful hearts; Home of our morning days Bright as the golden rays That greet our earthly gaze When night departs! Most noble in design, An altar and a shrine Thy tower stands. Chief of our hearts' concern To thee our thoughts return As pilgrim bosoms yearn From alien strands! Far in the days of old Choice spirits, wise and bold, Laid thy strong walls. Heroes in soul and thought Within thy temples wrought And there the truth they taught That disenthralls! For those of passing days Our voices rise in praise And songs are sung; As noble now as then. Thy sage and saintly men Kingly and true as when Thy days were young ! 63 Be thy strong spirit near And crowned with mem'ries dear Hold and sustain; Amid Life's toiUng marts As year by year departs Within thy children's hearts Abide and reign! ODE TO WHEATON COLLEGE O College we delight to name; Brave Titan from the giants sprung, At fifty years thou art but young, The Future is thy field of fame! Thou art emerging from the Night, The sable curtains are withdrawn And through the portals of the Dawn The world is flooded with the light! The glorious emblem of the free Aglow with white and crimson bars And field of blue abloom with stars Is proudly waving over thee! The children of thy struggling years. The valiant and strong-hearted, come Like soldiers at the rolling drum And add their leal and lusty cheers! Thy forward looking men of might. As truth to prophets is revealed, Beheld the far-off harvest field Beyond the confines of the night, And here an altar they upreared. As Bethel in the border land, 64 By each succeeding year more grand And to us more and more endeared ! Oh, there are tombs along the way, Mute sentinels to guard the Past, Bright stars that cannot be o'ercast By the effulgence of the Day! The potency of quiet graves In vain the powers of time assail. The unmarked shrine in Moab's vale Yet rules upon the land and waves ! Thine own heroic dead still live ; A force forever now is he * Who sleeps beside the western sea, Who gave us all he had to give! Whose gentle soul its genial light Shed roundabout his daily ways And crowned his kindly brow with bays Of blessings pure and starry bright! When sorrow's shadows crossed his heart And dark clouds drove athwart the sun, E'en then shone brighter one by one The stars, of which he seemed a part ! Great hearted, patient-souled and strong He threw the iron gates ajar And let the sunlight stream afar Across the darkened plains of wrong! He rests beside the restless sea; Yet say not that his work is done ; The goodly things by him begun Shall live through all the years to be ! *Prof. Elliot Whipple; buried at Chula Vista, California. 65 The Past is safe. Its laurel wreaths Of fresh and never-fading green Are bound by unseen bonds between The pulseless and the world that breathes ! The Present sounds its trumpet blast, To us the silver bugles call, Their notes resounding over all The mighty chorus of the Past! The fight is ours. But this fray Is not a brawl of battle drums ; Who standeth true, whatever comes, To him shall be the victor's bay! The palm is sure though seeming late; No good thing ever shall depart; Then thou, with reassured heart. In hope abide, with patience wait ! The seed the harvest time must bring; Behold the weary years it took To smooth the pebble in the brook To fit the stripling shepherd's sling ! But it shook Judah's hills with cheers And Israel's foe fled in dismay To see, on its appointed day. The triumph of those silent years! No deed is done but it shall mould The destiny of days unborn; Ours is the labor of the Morn, To other hands the harvest gold! 66 We make the future. In our hand It Hes akin to lifeless clay, And as we build and plan today So shall the future's temple stand ! The discords of our mortal strife The tuning orchestra may be Before it finds the proper key For the great symphony of Life ! Now in the Spring of thy career When all thy orchards are abloom, To where thy lordly towers loom We come with thanks, to praise and cheer ! (Read at the Alumni banquet in Ladies' Hall, Wheaton College, June 17, 1913.) Song THE GRADUATES' FAREWELL (Tune: "Flow Gently, Sweet Afton ") Sing softly, dear comrades, your love-laden lays Of Wheaton, the home of our happiest days ; The pathway is parting we journeyed along. Sing softly, for Wheaton, your gentlest song. We linger and look o'er the swiftly-flown years. The tenderest ties are unloosened with tears — We pause at the end of our journey awhile And turn back the shadows on memory's dial. How kindly, dear Wheaton, and graciously sweet You welcomed us here to this charming retreat. How gently you guided and bounteously blessed, And pointed us ever the way that was best. 67 How pleasant the clear, rippling river has run And carried us safely through shadow and sun, But now we have reached the wide, wild ocean-side And launch forth alone on the fast-rising tide. Our guiding star, Wheaton, you ever shall be. Our chart and our compass on Life's surging sea. How deeply it touches the chords of each heart, To sing the last song ere forever we part. Sing softly, dear comrades, your fondest farewells. Your songs that are sweeter than clear chiming bells. This primrose-bright path we shall travel no more. Sing softly for Wheaton, the school we adore! THE OLD SOCIETY HALL The choicest spirits I have met Within the vale of vain regret And barren sigh, I met within this circle here, This inner pale, this haloed sphere. In days gone by. The zeal the kindred soul imparts When heroes greet heroic hearts With royal cheer. The grandest boys I ever knew. The stalwart, honest, leal and true Enkindled here. Within this dear old hall we love, As welcome as the white winged dove Back to the ark. From isles remote and cities near The voyagers came and havened here Their little barque. 68 Of many ways and walks of life They mingled here in friendly strife In storm and calm; Rank and wealth were thrown aside And rich and poor a,s equals vied To win the palm. From north and south and east and west, Regardless how they had been blest By Fortune's star, They wrought, as far as in them lay, The burnished gold and common clay, Upon a par. Within the day book of my years With entries fraught with hopes and fears And inky blot. The brightest pages therein found Tell of the actions done around This sacred spot. There is no lovelier spot to see, No happier retrospect to me. No fairer isle. As I look down the rearward track, Or memory turns the shadows back Upon the dial. I see and hear and feel once more The sights and sounds and forms of yore; The glowing heart. The ones who now have crossed the bar, The youth whose " soul was like a star And dwelt apart." 69 Time, perchance, has lent its haze To form the giants of those days Unto our eyes, As forms appearing through the gloom Or mist or fog ofttimes assume Heroic size. Yet reason is there much for pride To see their places so supplied Since they held sway; For here are boys with as high aim. As ardent hearts and tongues of flame. And great as they. Out in the world or in this hall We are one kith and kindred all And one in plan: One aim, one spirit in the breast, One high resolve above the rest, To be a man. February 17, 1905. Song THE EXCELSIORS' FAREWELL (Tune: "My Old Kentucky Home, Good Night") The lights shine bright in the old Excelsior Hall 'Tis springtime and all things are gay. The stars still gleam in our banner on the wall But we've come to the " parting of the way." The boys sing songs and our spirits they run high, All is genial and happy and bright, But the time has come when we all must say good-bye, To our old Excelsior Hall — good night ! 70 Chorus Parting now, forever, our love no tongue can tell; We will sing this song in the old Excelsior Hall, Then our old Excelsior Hall — farewell! This hall no more with Excelsior songs will ring And the boys they will come here no more ; We've sung the last song that ever we will sing Within the old hall we adore. We'll come no more with that fire in the heart That filled the old hall with delight. For the time has come when we all shall have to part, Then our old Excelsior Hall — good night! Chorus For long, long years in the shadow and the sun Has this dear old Hall been our friend, But the links must break, for our course of time has run, And our work in the old Hall must end. We linger long for we do not like to go From our old home so beautiful and bright, And we say good-bye while each heart doth overflow, To our old Excelsior Hall — good night! Chorus 71 FAREWELL TO THE SENIORS (To class of '98) Farewell to the class that today is departing Forever is leaving these towers and halls Off to the warfare of life they are starting Where duty may wait or where destiny calls. They are strong with the strength of a fearless en- deavor To launch 'gainst the gales and blasts of the world. May the pole-star of truth guide their courses forever, And their pennons of principle never be furled. Farewell to thee, friends! who forever are leaving We give you the hand of a friend as you go, The Ocean of Time is incessantly heaving And its tides though ever they ebb, never flow. Oh ! thanks for the years we have spent here together — The years that passed by on their swift golden wings, Let their memories cherished make sunshiny weather Though the future a failure or victory brings. Farewell! for the Seniors are leaving us only As we have commenced to admire their worth. Now they finish their course and leave us thus lonely And are scattered afar 'mong the nations of earth But a rainbow the cloud of the future is arching, A proof that somewhere there are sunbeams at play, May it be it is made by the radiant marching Of Sunbeams who go from our College today. Farewell to thee. Seniors ! each one is repeating, Farewell, Beltionians say to their friends Heed not the things that are transient and fleeting But strive for the greater and far better ends. 72 Farewell, Philaletheans fondly are waving To the first one of all of the lovers of truth, And deep in their hearts her name is engraving Who loved them so well in the days of their youth. Farewell to thee, Seniors! the banner of glory Is waving farewell from Excelsior Hall Bright names on the scroll of her glorious story Who will go where Excelsior spirit may call Long, long may that spirit still hover around you And its battle-cry ring up the Alps of your life. With the sword of that spirit as ever we found you Be first in the field and the foremost in strife. Farewell to thee. Seniors ! when the towers of Wheaton No longer your eyes again can behold May your love for our College still keep you and sweeten The memories green of the school days of old. With whatever allurements the future surround us Let our hearts keep awake to Society's voice Let the links never break in the chain that has bound us So close to each other and the school of our choice. June 24, 1898. 73 MISCELLANEOUS, MINOR AND PERSONAL Song MATER CARISSIMA To Virginia Hughes Herrick (On Her Eightieth Birthday) (Tune: " Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean") O Mother, today we can render But a tithe of the tribute that's due, As the deep faintly mirrors the splendor Of the stars in the infinite blue ; The lips cannot tell the heart's story Nor the blessings that we would bestow On thy head that is white with the glory Of fourscore Winters of snow Of fourscore Winters of snow Of fourscore Winters of snow On thy head that is white with the glory Of fourscore Winters of snow ! But deep in the silence unbroken Lie the treasures of love's purest gold More precious than language has spoken And truer than tongue ever told, And fair as the flow'ry creations — Mute minstrels of charm and delight — And pure as the grand constellations That silently sweep through the night That silently sweep through the night That silently sweep through the night And pure as the grand constellations That silently sweep through the night! With thy crown Hke the sunUght adorning The mountain with snow-covered crest Thou hast come from the portals of Morning To the Sunset land of the West With many more years than were promised — Exceeding the threescore and ten — And passing the point by the Psalmist Set down for the children of men Set down for the children of men Set down for the children of men And passing the point by the Psalmist Set down for the children of men! Not the strains of a song comprehending All the melodies under the sun When the daughters of music are blending Their symphonies sweet into one ; Nor the chimes and the great organ pealing, Nor the music that mortals e'er heard Can bring us the balm and the healing And the peace of thy comforting word And the peace of thy comforting word And the peace of thy comforting word Can bring us the balm and the healing And the peace of thy comforting word ! O Mother — all goodness combining — Our compass and chart thou shalt be And a star in the firmament shining To guide us o'er life's stormy sea. While the diadem grandly reposes On the head that is snowy and hoar May the season of lilies and roses Abide in the heart evermore 78 Abide in the heart evermore Abide in the heart evermore May the season of liHes and roses Abide in the heart evermore ! April 24, 1914. "DE SENECTUTE" "Age is opportunity no less Than youth, though in another dress." — Longfellow. Oh, how venerable is old age When a seer and saint and sage And a prophet and philosopher are blended into one. Blessed with moral vision keen And an abiding faith serene And with an inward consciousness of duty fully done ! And yet ere set of sun he may Do more than since the break of day, For life is gauged by lofty thought and not the meas- ured year. And oft a day of age in truth Is better than a year of youth As Nestor's wisdom counted more than Ajax' heavy spear ! The grandest men on history's page Have mostly worn the wreath of age And the evening twilight of their lives has been the best; Then the strains of David's lyre Flowed like gold refined by fire From out a glowing bosom beneath a snowy crest ! 79 Few gems of higher, richer truth Have been the treasure-trove of youth, But the great discoverers were men of hoary head, And the immortal songs were born Not in the realm of rosy morn But down among the sunset hills when Hesperus was red! Chaucer, the herald of the long And noble line of English song Gave us the " Canterbury Tales " in measures quaint and old After the heat of noon had ceased. When shadows lengthened towards the East And he was on the Western slope amid the Autumn gold! The " CEdipus " of Sophocles And the prize verse of Simonides Were written more than eighty years after the morn- ing lark. And Theophrastus' virile pen Produced the " Characters of Men " When he had lived a dozen years beyond the fourscore mark! Milton and Homer blind and old Poured their mighty floods of gold In all the lofty major chords of melody sublime While they stood like ripened grain Upon the whitened harvest plain Within the bending sickle of hoary-headed Time ! At Weimar in his loved retreat Goethe gave us " Faust " complete After his hour-glass had run full eighty years of sand ; 80 And oft a sunset glory dwells Within the vale of vesper bells As if in forecast of the splendors of the Better Land ! November 25, 1909. THE ANGEL ISRAFEL " And the angel Israfel whose heart strings are a lute and who has the sweetest voice of all God's creatures." — Koran. I have read in the Koran a story, A legend both honored and hoary That in Paradise haloed with glory Lives an angel with wonderful powers, And he holds all his listeners mute For his heart strings, they say, are a lute And his voice is a musical flute And his songs are all blossoming flowers. And Paradise ever is ringing With the strains of his wonderful singing And to each song a message is clinging — A message of manifold meaning, Proclaiming as only he could. One burden not well understood. That Allah, great Allah, is good Surpassing all fanciful dreaming. And the stars in their courses all listened, As they glittered and glinted and glistened. To this angel tradition has christened The sweetest voiced singer in heaven. And they flashed his notes down from on high. And they wrote out his songs on the sky. And the dark souls of mortals thereby Were leavened with heavenly leaven. 81 I know it is just a tradition, A sweet and sublime superstition, Yet worthy of much repetition Because of its potent suggestions. For the legend, I think, is a test Of the highest and truest and best That man has found in his quest For the answers to answerless questions. 1900. THE DEAD YEAR Another surge — a rolling year — Has broken on the shore of Time, That sea upon whose wastes appear Ages like argosies sublime! I stood and watched the billow roll Its dripping wreckage on the sand. Mute relics of the tragic toll Paid into Time's all-grasping hand! Old worn-out derelicts and wrecks. And splintered masts and broken spars Swept off in tempests from the decks Lay strewn along the sandy bars! The lordly merchantman, the fleet Of dreadnaughts and the men-of-war By stress of Time lay in complete And common ruin on the shore ! Bright argosies that with acclaim Sailed forth with officers and crew And on their maiden voyage became The victims of the treacherous blue, 82 And fleet feluccas light and gay As sea-gulls skimming o'er the deep And glory-shorn proud galleys, lay Within Time's all-embracing sweep! The small were even as the great For Time had chastened all of pride And in one equal, low estate They lay along the Ocean side ! O Time upon thy boundless sea Cycles and centuries ebb and flow And all thereon must bow to thee, Salute and dip their pennants low; But all was not of stranded barks Upon the laden billows borne, Nor wrecks that bore the fatal marks Of Ocean's fury, tempest-torn. For goodly vessels not of those Among the breakers on the shore Found in fair havens safe repose Beyond the wrathful Ocean's roar. With sails and streamers reefed and furled Calmly and tranquilly they cease Their long cruise of the cruel world And rest serene in perfect peace. They held their courses to the Pole— The fixed and constant Cynosure Through perils both of deep and shoal And tempting sirens' subtle lure! 83 Oh, with what glory they appear That rode with honor through the strife, Now crowned and safely-havened here After the buffetings of Ufe! I saw approaching many sails, Some near and others yet afar. Some wrestling with mid-ocean gales And some within the outer bar! Some riding lightly as in sport, Some freighted to the rails with grief, All destined for the selfsame port Or as the prey of rock and reef! VOYAGE OF " THE SUNBEAM " Afar upon the sapphire blue Off towards the Islands of the West I saw among a chosen few One ship more goodly than the rest. With a bright splendor all her own E'en from moon-raker to the keel On all her ways a glory shone And grace and beauty set their seal. I viewed her as she went and came Intently with hand-shaded brow And read that queenly vessel's name " The Sunbeam " blazoned on the prow. Full busy both in storm and calm, With blessings beyond human ken She carried loads of healing balm To all the stricken isles of men. 84 Kind words and smiles and hopeful cheers (The Sunbeam's signal code are these) She sent across the waste of years To all upon Time's troubled seas. And she was blessed by everyone And hailed with such joy and delight As sailors greet the rising sun After a dark, tempestuous night. The queen of all the boundless sea With treasure islands for her prize Long may The Sunbeam's voyage be Beneath serene and cloudless skies. And when she sets her homeward sails In distant after years afar May pilot wise and favoring gales Bring her within the harbor bar! 1911. STRAYING THOUGHTS This is my day to sit and muse, Or wander through the misty maze Where Fancy, led by Chance, pursues Her devious, uncharted ways. I sweep the vista of the past And read it like an open scroll, I drop my plummet in the vast Deep, unknown oceans of the soul. I range the fields of bygone days Amid the roses and the rue Recalling half-forgotten lays. Comparing old friends with the new. 85 I kneel by Memory's deep spring That bubbles joyously and free And drink refreshing draughts that bring New life and hope and strength to me. I bare my forehead to the breeze And listen to its magic lore, The tales it brings across the seas And from the far-off alien shore. I hear the mighty sea-winds blow And the music wild and grand When Neptune's crested legions throw Their silver helmets on the sand. I breathe the fragrant aftermath Of fields I sowed in other days, And I retrace the backward path Through all its thorny-primrose ways. I pause by many grass-grown mounds And closely scan the chiseled stone, And the names that have familiar sounds I utter in an undertone. The birds sing in the boughs that bend Like cypress o'er the somber tomb And their sweet songs with sadness blend Like mass-bells in cathedral gloom. 86 Song for MEMORIAL DAY (Tune: "America") Old soldiers, over thee The flag is floating free And full of stars ; Proud of the noble band That gave it to our land, Preserved by valor's hand And battle scars! In smoke and flame it flew Above the hosts of blue On fields of war; Through treason's iron rain You bore it without stain Upon the crimson plain In days of yore! Your heads are whitened now And time upon your brow Has left its trace. And slower now your tread Than when the charge was led And Freedom's foemen fled Before your face ! Yet in your matchless eye As the thinned lines go by We see the gleam And spirit as of old When clouds of conflict rolled To keep the starry fold Without a seam ! 87 In gratitude and love Pure as the stars above This day we keep For men the world reveres, For those who live, our cheers. And a great nation's tears For those who sleep! FLAG OF THE EIGHT AND FORTY STARS Flag of the eight and forty stars Aflame in a field of blue ; Flag of the white and crimson bars Entrancing fair to view! Flag of the eight and forty stars Of war and whirlwind born And kept by death and battle-scars Unsullied and untorn! On thy white field the crimson bars Mean rivers running red That the flag of eight and forty stars Might wave above my head! When War's portentous pall hangs low Dark as the frown of Mars Fiercely shall gleam amid the foe Thine eight and forty stars! In Freedom's name may every breeze Fling out thy blood-red bars And proudly flaunt o'er land and seas Thine eight and forty stars! Song DEWEY, THE PRIDE OF THE NAVY (Tune: "Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean") O Dewey, the pride of the nation, The pride of the navy and sea With proud and profound admiration This people is honoring thee ! With streamers and flags wild and wavy And with triumphal arches for you We hail you the Pride of the Navy, The greatest the world ever knew. The greatest the world ever knew The greatest the world ever knew We hail you the Pride of the Navy, The greatest the world ever knew. On the page of our triumphant story Where Columbia's brave Admirals are With our navy enhaloed with glory Shines many a radiant star. But the gem of the whole constellation That gleams so resplendently bright Is the star of the pride of the nation Unsurpassed in its luster and light. Unsurpassed in its luster and light Unsurpassed in its luster and light Is the star of the pride of the nation Unsurpassed in its luster and light. So long as the world keeps in motion And the red, white and blue waves in air With our fleet proudly ploughing the ocean Will the stars of his glory be there. 89 'Till we meet with grim Death, the Destroyer, We will honor Columbia's son And with cheers for this old ocean-warrior We will keep what his valor has won, We will keep what his valor has won We will keep what his valor has won And with cheers for this old ocean-warrior We will keep what his valor has won. October 10, 1899. (For Dewey Day in Chicago.) (Decoration Day Song) THE BOYS IN THE BLUE (Tune: "The Red, White and Blue") O soldiers who saved our nation, And sailors who fought on the sea, Today in rapt admiration A world weaves its garlands for thee. Today, with words warm and tender We speak of the host, brave and true — Our glorious Republic's defender That followed the red, white and blue. That followed the red, white and blue, That followed the red, white and blue ; Our glorious Republic's defender That followed the red, white and blue ! When the guns of rebellion were roaring And treason was piping her pipes. These millions of heroes were warring In defense of the stars and the stripes. Our tears and our cheers are combining As their trials and triumphs we view, 90 And the stars of their glory are shining In the folds of the red, white and blue, In the folds of the red, white and blue, In the folds of the red, white and blue ; And the stars of their glory are shining In the folds of the red, white and blue ! Today we remember the sleeping — The Grand Army long gone before ; Today fair Columbia is weeping For brave sons who died in the war ! Their graves let us cover with flowers — The fairest that earth ever grew ! With banners — these heroes of ours — Who died for the red, white and blue. Who died for the red, white and blue. Who died for the red, white and blue ; With banners — these heroes of ours — Who died for the red, white and blue! 'Mid flowers and banners and glory. With words that are welcome and warm ; Like the rainbow, our flag tells the story: "I'm a child of the sun and the storm." Columbia shall always endeavor To honor the fast-fleeting few ; The old soldiers and sailors forever ! Three cheers for the boys in the blue. Three cheers for the boys in the blue. Three cheers for the boys in the blue ; The old soldiers and sailors forever. Three cheers for the boys in the blue ! 91 THE INWARD MONITOR I am dubious of the days to be ; My foes are strong and cruel men; There shines no light, no star for me Within the sweep of Reason's ken. To eyes of sense the way is dark, While conscience shines a star serene, And I'm a tempest-driven barque Upon the unseen and the seen. My foes are many, bold and stout And crafty as the imps of hell ; They press and compass me about Like Ocean 'round a diving bell. But in despite of seeming things I fear not but that I shall win ; For there's a harp with truer strings There is a clearer voice within. A clearer truth it truer tells With soft, but more persuasive note Than told by tongues of iron bells Or shouted from a stentor throat. For conscience has a simple code To lead us through the dark and day. And is upon life's winding road The only guide that knows the way. And where it sends me I will go And what it tells me I will do ; I see nor understand, yet know That inward monitor is true. 92 And all I ask the kindly fates Is light to see my foeman's face And press the battle to the gates With reeking blade and bloody mace. January 1, 1907. A THANKSGIVING THOUGHT Oh, blessed be the dreams of day And blessed be the dreams of night In which we leave the tent of clay And roam beyond the realms of sight ! I see you by the far-off main, I bring you on the wings of thought, For Fancy's lightning aeroplane Counts twenty hundred miles as naught ! But pause upon this Day of Thanks Amid Life's never-resting war Where men crowd on in serried ranks Like ocean billows to the shore. And let us look with candor through The Day Book of the dying year With all the entries, false and true, That on its faded leaves appear! We count the bruises and the balm, We check the gladness and the grief, We weigh the tempests and the calm, The blossoms and the yellow leaf, And when the final score is told We scarce would change it if we could. For the weal exceeds a thousand fold The ill — which may be disguised good! 93 A CHRISTMAS SALUTE To the Rose that blooms as gay In the Winter as in May With a glory that is very superfine, I send with this little song All the good things that belong To the season of the holly and the pine ! All the cheer and joys that go With the yule and mistletoe And the peace that rests upon the happy earth Be with her and there abide, But increased and magnified In accordance with her goodness and her worth ! December 25, 1913. DESPAIR The Sun has set. The light is lost, And I live in the afterglow When Autumn's hoar and killing frost Is blending with the Winter snow! My tree of Hope is stripped and bare And sere and yellow all its leaves, As Nature voices her despair Lamenting Summer's golden sheaves! Withered to its lowest roots And to its branches' endmost tips, Like Sodom's apples all its fruits Have turned to ashes on my lips! 94 The trees like choir lofts when all The winged choristers have flown Wrapped in a deep cathedral pall Stand desolate and dark and lone! sunken sun, my sinking heart Like thee is shrouded in eclipse. And all my hopes now have their part In Despair's deep and sunless crypts! 1 call on Sleep to close my eyes And hide dark Sorrow's raven plume, Nor care I if the Sun arise For he cannot dispel my gloom! November 27, 1913. THE GOLDEN WEDDING In shade and sun for fifty years A pathway through this vale of tears Did wend its winding way; Begun when war was in the land It ran, with Union, hand in hand Unto this peaceful day! With heart and hand and sword and pen, Brave soldiers for the weal of men You bore the noblest parts. And as befits the brave and true We twine the laurel wreaths for you, O good and kindly hearts! In Summer's heat and Winter's blast; Through sunny fields with clouds o'ercast Where rue and roses grew, 95 The good and ill that all must bear From raven locks to whitened hair You bore serene and true ! And now within your crowns of snow May happy thoughts of long ago Gleam as precious gems, And as the flying years increase May you wear in health and peace Your well-earned diadems! January 26, 1914. PURE FRIENDSHIP Yes, we are friends And there it ends, But our friendship never, And never may We see the day That shall those bonds dissever. Within the sphere Of Friendship dear And in that sphere abiding, Give us the creed Of heart and deed And faith in Friendship's guiding! Indeed, I hold Dearer than gold Friendship's beacons burning That give to life Light for the strife From day to day returning ! 96 No crystal draught That men have quaffed Nor breezes from the mountain Can buoy me up Like one clear cup From Friendship's flowing fountain! A real friend Can heal and mend A spirit sad and broken — A cure complete For all defeat — By one word kindly spoken! Then without art Let heart to heart Send to each other greeting And add a joy Free from alloy At every casual meeting ! Let's know the bounds And shoals and sounds And where to drop the plummet, Where waves run high And to the sky Lift up their foamy summit! Let us clasp hands Like iron bands As friends — and never falter 'Till embers bright Turn ashen white Upon Life's glowing altar! 97 Upon the scroll Whereon my soul Acknowledges its debtors, Brilliant and clear There shall appear Your name in golden letters! I prize your worth And kindly mirth, And prize them very greatly, And like a queen Your regal mien So ladyUke and stately! In bold relief Among the chief Of all I hold the dearest Your name shall stand Serene and grand The brightest and the clearest! I'll write that name With pen of flame Upon the list I cherish Where it shall stay 'Till that far day When white-beard Time shall perish. May poets' rhymes And silver chimes And strains of music blending Make life one long And grand, sweet song In glorious cadence ending! May 9, 1914. 98 ROSE FOR REMEMBRANCE (To a friend) To speak in prose To a sweet rose Would be a wrong, And so I need My rustic reed To pipe a song. Full-blossomed May In one bouquet To you I send To let you know Where'er you go You have a friend. And if sometime In an alien clime I shall appear, (As I may do Before I'm through Another year) And flowers fair Bloom everywhere And skies are blue, Each rose I see Shall bring to me A thought of you. When ocean wave And winds that rave Shall bear me far, 99 Though vain I yearn, Thought shall return To where you are. And when I feel Beneath the keel The grating rock And bulkheads thin Shall crumble in Before the shock, I'll climb the mast And take a last Long look toward home, Then with the ship I'll take a dip Beneath the foam Where with my head On coral bed I'll lie and dream. While high above The stars I love In grandeur gleam. I'll dream of you With all my true And cherished friends And drink a toast To all the host That comprehends. But if my fate Shall be to wait Another doom 100 Where death shall come With rolling drum And cannons' boom; Where shells shall shriek And sabers reek With Life's red wine Flowing so free It shall the sea Incarnadine, Amid the fray Where horses neigh And men fall dead, A rose in bloom Shall be the plume Upon my head. May 9, 1914. AN APPRECIATION Your hearts' good gifts Came like the rifts In cloudy skies That give a view Of Heaven's blue To weeping eyes! Your kindly words Were singing birds Unto my ear And to my heart A flaming dart Of mighty cheer! 101 As thirsty plain Receives the rain With grateful breast An<4 flowers raise Their heads to praise The welcome guest, Just so from you The healing dew Upon me fell, And no sweet balm Prom pine to palm Could sooth so well! As Jordan did Each year amid The harvest time, My stream of thanks O'erflows its banks In prose and rhyme! To some you say I answer, nay. Because I know; And yet 'tis fine That friends of mine Should think it so! Lily and rose Until we close Life's little book, Let us, I plead. Be friends in deed And word and look! May 15, 1914. 102 FROM A WAYFARER (With flowers) Sweet Saint Cecilia of our day, The patroness of Music's art, I send you with this roundelay That bubbles from a friendly heart And give unto your tender care That never did a creature wrong, These flowers, thought-surpassing fair — The silent notes of Nature's song — And with them all the healing dews And balm upon their fragrant leaves; And may my never-sleeping Muse Sit at the loom where Fancy weaves, And in the wondrous warp and woof Of the rich tapestry of Fame With shining shuttles, error proof. With threads of gold weave in your name. Oh, may a sweet smile be the prize And favor that these flowers find Within your clear and kindly eyes — The windows of triumphant mind. From a wayfarer passing by And plucking flowers 'long the way Receive these buds ; — and 'till you die May life be sweet and fair as they! February 7, 1914. 103 TO A SICK FRIEND (With flowers) This little nosegay that we send Is mute — yet you can comprehend The story that it tells, E'en as there is no need of words To interpret the songs of birds Or notes of silver bells! Every floweret bright and gay Doth ope its smiling lips to say That all your friends are true ; And for your royal health we pour The crystal full and brimming o'er And drink it dry to you ! Be thou, O strong man, of good cheer ; In gloom the songs of saint and seer With clearer cadence rang; These flowers blossomed after rain, And in a sweeter, purer strain The chastened Psalmist sang ! The sweet and honey-laden phlox And tall, rich-colored hollyhocks. And all within the scope 'Twixt violet and drifting snow. And all the scented winds that blow Are prophecies of Hope! So brace your heart and mind and soul. And shortly, safe and sound and whole, We'll see you face to face 104 Eager and ready for the strife And down the long highway of Life To run a goodly race ! TO A COLLEGE FRIEND wise, winsome friend of mine Whose name to many a tuneful line Inspired my pen, How many stanzas in old days 1 wrote, then cast into the blaze, " I dinna ken." But surely all together massed Would make a conflagration vast And fervent heat; And if the embers now were stirred They'd rise up like the phoenix-bird And warble sweet. I think it's often well, you know. Amid the surge and ebb and flow Of worldly strife To make a little pause, a calm, A Selah passage in the Psalm Of busy life, Just long enough to drop a line Or speak a word or make a sign Or wave a hand ; It lifts us where the white clouds float And holds us like a sustained note, I think it's grand! 105 So take this as my kind salute, It's better than remaining mute As Egypt's Sphinx. If aught is lacking won't you try Out of your good heart to supply The missing links? AN EASTER GREETING The sweetest season of the year, The Spring with all its bloom, is here When latent life doth first appear And everything is green and growing, When Nature wears a verdant plume And loads the air with sweet perfume From buds just bursting into bloom, When balmy breezes, too, are blowing. On every side we see the sign Of the handiwork of the divine. E'en in the clouds the rainbows shine And earth is one great emerald beauty ; The singing streamlet softly flows Fed from its fields of melting snows, 'Tis the " time of Romeo and the rose " And the sleepless sentinel is on duty. It is the Easter time of earth — Of resurrection and new birth — When Nature sings her songs of mirth. Of promise, gladness and good tidings. No mortal minstrel's harp howe'er Strung with Apollo's golden hair In songs with Nature can compare To satisfy the soul's confidings. 106 Now in the Easter of our lives When hopes like rainbow arches rise Proclaiming promise from the skies Which Youth and Spring are both repeating, I wish as from a friend to friend, And may we be so to the end, To you, my College mate, to send A kindly, cordial Easter greeting. A THANKSGIVING DAY MUSE (To a friend) A year of disappointments keen Has reached its close. Of buried expectations, e'en As Autumn with its golden sheen Beneath the snows, And barren as a Winter wood The world appears ; Where once a leafy forest stood A lone, green pine with snowy hood Its head uprears! Adverse winds have blown since then Upon us all And nipped the flowering hopes of men And the white petals fell as when The snow flakes fall! Yet for our special thanks this Day Is set apart — And if we look aright we may Discern amid the gloom a ray To cheer the heart! 107 Behold the berries bright and red On holly bough Aflame with life — though earth is dead And Winter's counterpane is spread Upon it now ! Forgetting what 'twere vain to mourn Let us but see The blessings that the year hath borne Prom Fortune's overflowing horn To you and me ! Thanks for memories that endear Our College home And the men whose lives appear Like the stars serene and clear Above its dome; For the strength and grace to do The things we should, And hearts to stand up with the few And cast a ballot pure and true And wholly good; For the mortal wounds the wrong Hath lately felt In the blows that felled the strong And lordly license party's throng, However dealt! Though the wicked smote and slew Their wicked kin, Yet are thanks and praises due That the hosts are growing few That license sin! 108 And for the routing of this host Of evil years, (A theme for Deborah, almost,) Add thou a patriotic boast To lusty cheers! And indeed, what can afford A sight more grand Than woman to her rights restored With a white ballot for a sword Within her hand! While baffled evils cringe and grope Through darkened ways, We walk the broad highway of hope While in our retrospective scope Lie golden days! But dearer than the showy sheen Of earthly arts Are thoughts — with naught to intervene- Like the telepathy between Two human hearts! Be thou content and full of peace, Calm and serene. Yet with a song that shall not cease Until the spirit finds release In the Unseen! May you in Mercy's work be such A force for weal That pain shall cease, however much, And whatsoever wounds you touch Shall straightway heal, 109 As Filomena's hands restored In Crimea's day The ragged wounds of Russia's sword Where in Scutari's groaning ward The EngHsh lay! And may the final record tell In the great book That we wrestled long and well As Jacob did in Penuel Beside the brook, And that we truly loved our friend As our own life In ways that did not wind or bend But ran unswerving to the end Of mortal strife ! The rose and lily fresh with dew, And bergamot, I send an offering unto you ; Wear thou for me the tiny, blue Forget-me-not ! 1912, MEMORIES THAT MAKE US STRONG As bud and blossom and ripe fruit And years on years in swift pursuit Each other press, So at this time of thanks and praise Come crowding thoughts of other days To cheer and bless! 110 Oft in such hours as this I chance To take a retrospective glance Adown the years, The sunny years by shadows crossed And disillusionments that cost Us many tears ! I see again before me spread The winding ways where folly led Through bitter-sweet: — The blasted hope, the shattered dream, And the victory that did redeem All sore defeat! I've thought of you, brave friend and good, Full many times as I have stood With flag unfurled, Or battled in the truceless fight Wherein the darkness strives with light To win the world! And until now I've sung your praise, And shall through all the coming days In honest rhyme, With glad heart brimming o'er with thanks As Jordan overflows its banks In harvest time! For in the recent days I bore A sword and buckler in that war You sent me to. And foremost in the battle's van Did all the puny arm of man Alone can do! Ill Whene'er I face the hosts of Drink, To which all other evils link And join their plans, The echo of your words produce A fervor like the heart of Bruce Among the clans! Ofttimes with frowning hordes around Have we been beaten to the ground But not to stay Like those who " mute inglorious " lie, For we're the kind that never die Though turned to clay! The armies of the Fiend are vast And cruel as the icy blast That sweeps the North And all things wither like the leaf Before the wild raids of the Chief That leads them forth! But surely shall the time arrive When you and I are both alive And he is dead, If we are blessed with sense and grace And mortal strength to swing a mace And cleave his head! Oh, doubt thou not that he shall fall Cut down in ghastly ruin, all As on that day Back in his temple in Ashdod Prostrate before the ark of God Old Dagon lay! 112 Then when the shouting victors march Beneath the great triumphal arch In grand review, The friend whose voice was worth a host Shall wear the laurel with the most Stalwart and true ! Strong unto life, oh, let us cling Like Winter's v^^ithered leaf in Spring Still on the tree, That firm, tenacious to the last Defies the buffets of the blast To shake him free! Until your life's long day is done May Laughter's rippling river run Full to the brink; And better than unmeasured wealth Oh, may you be of buoyant health The very pink! And meanwhile Heaven bless your store And in your lap kind Fortune pour All that she hath; And brightly bloom the beauteous rose And balmy be the breeze that blows Around your path! My parting prayer is that henceforth May all the vigor of the North Be in your heart Wherein shall Hope and Peace preside And Joy and sv,/eet Content abide And not depart! 113 TO A FRIEND IN SORROW'S SHADOWS Friend a thousand leagues away My thoughts are all of you today, And thought can quickly span the space parting me from thee ; 1 on Chicago's outer rim You on the western ocean's brim Down in the City of the Angels by the sunset sea. Oh, how often have they sped Between us in the year that's fled, With loads of healing in their wings to solace your sad heart, And in the dark days of your grief With healing balm to give relief. To lift the heavy, inky pall and rift the clouds apart. Though laden with a good intent On futile missions were they sent. For heavy hearts by happy songs are never made more light. But though we know we can but fail Yet still we strive to part the veil, To push aside and pin with stars the curtains of the night. Oh, I have been appalled to view The darkened valley you passed through Beneath the heavy clouds of care, beholding through your tears The crowning sorrow of your days, The parting of the earthly ways And breaking of the dearest ties of all the fleeting years. 114 And in your overwhelming gloom Deep as a black funereal plume Or as the raven robe of night ungarnished by the stars, My sympathies went out in lieu Of rod and staff to comfort you Like the tidal waves of ocean sweeping all the harbor bars. That all is but the common fate Does not one jot alleviate The heart-aches at the parting for the rest of mortal day, But this last hour leaves a trace That time and change will not efface Until the beating breast is still and memory fades away. That mortal man was made to mourn Makes no less sharp the piercing thorn And all the sorrows of the world do not diminish mine. But each must tread the press alone From thrall to king upon the throne And from the lowly cotter to the prince of royal line. For so the sad procession goes From violets to drifting snows, From the baby's golden locks to the old man's whit- ened hair, Changing slowly day by day As embers turn from red to gray And the glowing, radiant forehead to the wrinkled brow of care. In the great drama of the past Through chiliads and cycles vast Man has played the tragic role, the comic and the mime, 115 From the anchorite and clown Up to learning's cap and gown And in every form and fashion from the grotesque to sublime. Since the creation's primal dawn He has been but the puny pawn By fickle Fortune's index finger pushed about at will Across the checker-board of Fate Where light and darkness alternate, Held by the players, life and death, the hazard of their skill. But doubtless we need griefs and joys To keep our souls in equipoise And that the judgments laid on us are just and right decrees, And like the royal orb of day Shower rich blessings all the way From Aurora's rosy portals to the sapphire sunset seas. Then let us lay aside the rue And pin the hearts-ease on in lieu With thoughts of buds and blossoms and not of with- ered leaves; But of bright flowers of the Spring When feathered songsters mate and sing And swallows swiftly skim the waters and build along the eaves. O Sunbeam fair, the brightest one Shot from the quiver of the Sun Since the primeval darkness that moved upon the deep 116 Fled in its utter rout away Before the arrows of the Day When the great light of creation woke the universe from sleep, Dispel with your resplendent beams All mists and fogs and troubled dreams That come and stay unbidden like an uninvited guest, For your smile and jocund laugh Can scatter like wind-driven chaff All sad-eyed, melancholy cares between the East and West. Oh, be wise, brave heart, and know That there can be no radiant bow, No arch of hope and promise, except for clouds and rain, To lift its grand, majestic form Like a bridge that spans the storm, A highway through the heavens above the troubled plain. Now may you have the lion's share Of all the good and gay and fair And one sweet vale of Avilion may all your future be ; Days of unspeakable delight And more entrancing dreams by night Than ever lotos leaves or poppies gave their dearest devotee. May olive twigs and myrtle leaves Bedeck your brow like fillet wreaths And the orange, oak and holly and the lily and the bay Adorn your breast and noble head While round about you waft and spread All the redolence and glory of the gorgeous bloom of May! 117 )