IPS 1568 E3 Copy 1 ;.Uf''. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. ®^8p. -- ©nwrig|t :fo rt^ UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. A BETTER DAY James Arthur Edgerton. 33 For a' that and a' that, It's coming yet, for a' that, That man to man the world around Will brothers be f^jL^Nthat." S. E. THORNTON, PUBLI6HEF LINCOLN, NE6. \-. ^w COPYRIGHTED, 1891, BY JAMES ARTHUR ED6ERT0N, 'preface. When anyone points out the evils of pur present social system, the question is immediately asked him, " Well, how do you propose to better it ? " I take it that the first work is to show that there are evils, and to point out those evils; and the world will afterward attend to the "better- ing " process for itself. It may be objected that the agitation of these questions does not properly belong to poetry. I answer that poetry concerns itself witli what is closest to the human heart. And what is closer to the human heart than human prog- ress and human happiness; than equality before the law; than justice to all; in a word, than human liberty? That which is true, that which is good, that which is noble, are closely allied to that which is beautiful. Sym- pathy, love, hope, are parts of the immortal nature of man. And from these things growls poetry. I believe we are at the beginning of a new era, when the dream of the world's best minds will, in part at least, be re- alized. To aid what little it may in the work of bringing that era about this volume was written. TAGE. Prelude 5 Dawn 9 Men of Labor 11 Past and Future 12 A New Theme 14 How Bright, How Sweet 19 The Other Side 20 The Modern Siren 21 What Might Be 23 I Do Not Know, I Cannot Tell 26 O, Ye Who Love The Human Kind 30 To the Goal 31 Still Let Me Dream 33 Under the trees that looked on happy days; Into the paths of childhood's sunny ways, Where brightly shone to me the Future's face, I come once more ; And thoughts of that old time come back to me Like evening strains of distant melody ; And greenly shines across my memory Each hallowed shore. And dreams come back to me — the happy dreams And visions of a boy — with the bright beams Of early days ; with voices of far streams. That chiming fall, Dim in my memory ; and great hopes come, too — Hopes that within that sunny dreamland grew, That I some good unto mankind might do. However small. Soft blow the flowers, and streams glint merrily ; Sweet sing the birds on every leafy tree. Why in this bright, bright world should suffering be ? Why should men die For lack of that which they alone create, When all around is plenty in the state — Unneeded plenty — and the rich and great Feast bounteously ? PRELUDE. Because men are not brothers; and the few Grind down the many ; and the good and true Are stifled in their hearts ; and those who do Cannot enjoy The fruits of their own labor ; and the right Is trampled down beneath the feet of might. But, then, methinks there is a dawning light Along the sky. Let others sing the out-worn thoughts of old. That o'er and o'er for centuries have been told ; And make a trade to ring them o'er for gold, While 'neath the ban Of gross Injustice, Tyranny, and Wrong, The People, that have borne and suffered long. Wait for some tongue to voice in burning song The rights of man. Let others pule of Art; and, on their knees, Before old forms and dust of dead decrees. Search round for trash to foist on times like these ; When man's begun To mount above those ages far and dim ; To watch the fringes flash above the rim Of the bright East, proclaiming unto him The coming Sun. But be these not ray theme. There hangs for me A harp within the Future. Breezes free Blow ; and there comes a wild, sweet melody Upon the wind. PRELUDE. 7 Mollis. Of that Future I will sing, That it, from present want and suffering, May rise and shine and happier times may bring To"all mankind. I see no good in singing what will not Do good to men. Beauty and Truth are brought But fri)m one spring: the striving of our thought To rise, not fall. The souls of men reach upward to the light, After far voices calling through the night. Up to the Beautiful, the True, the Right, The Good, the All. I sing the Coming Race ; the Time To Be ; When earth is happy and when men are free ; When Liberty, born of Fraternity, That later birth Of freedom, among men its lot shall cast, And shine above the wrecks that strew the past ; And Universal Brotherhood at last Shall bless the earth. Go forth, my dream ; not much you are, 'tis true ; But, then, 'twas good to dream you, for you grew Out of a hope that you some good might do. To clear the way ; Born when a dazzling Beauty to me beamed From a bright goal that through the future gleamed Upon my soul, until I fondly dreamed A Better Day. 1}i better 3cTg ^ atpn. 'Tis a sweet time on the earth, Over field and hill and stream ; For the flowers have come to birth, And light and beauty beam ; And the Springtime wanders forth, Like a dream. It is the witching hour, When the dawn-winds breathe and shake The dew-drops on the flower ; And the birds begin to wake ; And beams on the morning's shore Begin to break. Ye morning stars, that rise Over earth's fringed line, Sweet harbingers in the skies Of a day that will be divine, Bright heralds of bright sunrise, Softly shine. Light on the dewy earth. Light on the purpling sea ; Telling the later birth ; Telling the day to be ! Beautiful Day, come forth. Bright and free. 10 A BETTER DAY. Red on the eastern wave ; Red in the eastern sky ! Softly tlie tree-tops wave ; Softly the dawn-winds sigh. Tremble the drops that lave Each violet's eye. Daffodil, crimson the skies, For the Sun is coming up. Unto the new sunrise Each violet turns'^its cup. Myriad twinkling eyes Softly ope. Sweet flowers, blow^ to the Sun ; Sing, birds, on every tree ; For the Human light's begun To break over land and sea ; When the poor of the earth, every one, Will be free. Brothers, who love mankind, Brothers in heart and brain, Link with a tie that will bind All the world over again ; Love and light in the mind, These the chain. Sing till the echoes roll, Man will be free, be free ; Sing unto every soul Blessed Equality. Sing, for the dreamed-of goal We will see. MEN OF LABOR. 11 Unto the goal of dream ; Into the brighter way ! Twinkling dew-stars gleam Soft in the morning ray. Beauties of morning beam Into day. Often of ^abor. Men of Labor, why for others Ever toil ? Men of Labor, be ye brothers, Not the spoil Of the vampires who are taking All the wealth that ye are making ; Of the serpent that would crush you in its coil. Why be slaves ? Why wait ye longer ? Be ye free. Ye are more than these and stronger. Liberty ! .Shout that watch-word unto heaven ; Shout until your bonds are riven ; Shout until the sounds ring over land and sea. Make Equality the beacon To the earth ; Until force and fraud shall weaken ; And a birth — Bright as the bright dreams of sages In the dark and vanished ages, — Of Fraternity and Liberty come forth. 12 A BETTER DAY. Speak ! The weary world is waiting For your call; Never in your zeal abating Until fall All the greed and wrong that bind us ; Wrecks upon Time's shore behind us ; iVnd a new day shed its beauty over all. "UPa^i anb ^uiuve. A Hope is dawning to the waiting world — An eagle o'er the purple mountain-tops, Tinged gold from oif the newly risen Day, Floats down the slanting sun-rays of the Dawn, Down, down unto the wakening world of Man. I saw the ages pass as in a dream. A prophet spoke unto the world of old. Telling a God lived in the human mind, That would bring Happiness unto the world, And misery w'ould pass as doth a dream Pass from our troubled sleeping ; till all men Would live as brothers, live in love and peace, Fulfilling godlike destiny ; till the sun Would happier shine upon the happier world ; Till the earth, choiring to the eye-like orbs. That look upon her from the shores of space. Would tell the birth of harmony and love, Of happy children in her happy vales ; AVould tell a tale at last of peace and rest. PAST AND FUTURE. 18 And men did hear and wonder. But they saw That he was poor; and so they mocked at him And said, "■ He is a dreamer ; " and they seized And nailed his bleeding form unto the tree. I saw the ages pass as in a dream. The world was sunk into a deepening gloom. The prophet's words still lived, but they were used As grants for men to kill their fellow men ; And prison thought ; and bar each ray of light ; And fill the earth with darkness and with blood. And fill the earth with ignorance and death. I saw the few men 'neath their iron feet Trampling the blood from weaker ones below, Trampling the millions down that toil to live. I saw the few hold all the earth in fee. Making the rest their slaves to live or die. And I saw Revolutions ; but they brought Much blood and little happiness. They were cheat?;, Leaving the monster still to suck the blood From out the toiling millions, till they died. The few still held the common earth in fee. The many still their slaves, while the mild stars Looked down in pity on the earth from heaven. I saw the ages pass as in a dream, The dead years fled into the wintry past. A golden hour came by and Destiny Looked with him o'er the world. I saw the veil Drawn from the mind of man, and there a sea Of free and clear emotion and deep love. I saw the earth bloom brightly 'neath his care. 14 A BETTER DAY. I saw her fruits grow golden 'neath the sun. I saw her fruits made free to all her children, As by the will of God. The prophet's words Shone forth in living fire, to blazon out The brighter course of Destiny to Man. I saw the Spirit of Love fall o'er the world, As doth a veil upon* the evening sea ; And men at last grew to the stature of Man. And then I saw the soul of thought unveiled. And He, the Thought that broods on the abyss, Shone forth into the minds and hearts below, Looked down upon the happier growing world, And blessed it ; and the soul of harmony Thrilled out into each being; while the stars Looked down in peace and beauty on the earth. l&i OTiew %hcme. At the close of a weary day. While watching the shadows play Of a dreamland far away, A strain from the melody In the world we do not see, Like a voice, came unto me ; Saying, " Sing a song, I pray, To lighten the weary way." But I only answered " Nay." A NEW THEME. 15 " For what could I sing," I said. " I but hear the echoing tread Of the mighty bards who are dead ; " Whose souls out of chaos brought All the wonders; whose fancies cauglit All the beauties of human thought." But it came; from some far-off shoal Of Being, and spoke to my soul : "The world is far from its goal. " The beautiful world is young ; In the halls of the Future hung Are the sweetest of songs unsung. " The past to the future of rhyme Is the spring-bird's broken chime To the music of summer-time. "Is there nothing that you can sing? To sorrow and suffering No healing or balm you can bring? " In the fields of misery No wrongs that you can see ? I pray you to come with me. "I will find you a theme as broad As the universe of God, AVhose vistas were never trod. •' Come with me unto the poor That are begging from door to door, In sorrow and suffering sore ; 10 A BETTER DAY. " To the toilers, who bear the weight Of the world ; whose hands create The happiness of the state, " In poverty, hunger and need ; While from their abundance feed The rich in their cursed greed ; " Sitting in idle content, Drawing from toil their rent, Counting their cent per cent, " Like human swine in the sty ; And hoarding earth's harvests by From the millions who starve and die. " Come, look at the ones who rear Earth's harvests, earth's wealth ; who bear The weight of her sorrow and care ; " Their wants by the crusts supplied ; For the gamblers and thieves who ride, Ground down in the dust by pride. " Come, look at the children who cry For bread, to the pitiless sky, For food, to men's hearts, and die. " See the millions who want for bread ; Then say that all has been said By poets for centuries dead." " But," I answered, " what good can rest In pushing this fruitless quest? 'Tis a weary tale, at best. A NEW THEME. 17 " Such things have ever been, For many must lose, few win ; 'Tis the fruit of our fore-parents' sin." But it came as the scorn of the right For the wrong ; as the voices of light Falling beautiful over the night : " Men grow, and the things of the past Fade away, and the customs of caste Are broken ; 'tis daylight ^at last. " Equality, brotherhood, love, In the hearts of humanity move, Placed there by the angels above. " But man stifles them, drowns them, and they Cannot speak ; but give them their way And they'll make upon earth a New Day. " As the power of the better is strong ; As. the work for the better lives long; Right will triumph at last over wrong. " There is wrong. Must it ever be so ? No. If men still live they will go And vanquish it, blow upon blow. " Throw your moldering creed to the wind ; Leave the cumbersome stories behind, And do some good for your kind. " Leave them all to the Past's bloody ground. Their birthplace. Above and around See the hopes of the ages unbound. 18 A BETTER DAY. " Leave them all on the Past's bloody track ; Leave them all with the fagot and rack ; For the monster, their mother, falls back ; " Back, back, to the nethermost Night ; With the mists rolling down from the height, Where the hill top of Reason is bright. " Go^ gird your loins for the fray ; See your brothers in battle array ! And Victory comes with the day. " All the fellows of good heart and head Are with you. The morning is red ; Go, fight till the monster is dead. " And the morning will rise soft and deep, And the tearful, bright flowers will weep O'er the grave where I leave you asleep. " Though the world may seem weary to you, If you work there is good you can do ; To your race, to your conscience be true. "Though you gain but the world's scorn and hate. Each word will count something, though late. You must learn but to strive and to wait. " The brightest of destinies bright Is to think, when you've ended the fight. When you die, you have fought for the Right." HOW BRIGHT, HOW SWEET. 19 How bright, how sweet, this world would be. If men could live for others ! How sweet, how bright, How full of light ; How much of day, how little night. If men from Greed and Wrong were free ; If men could all be brothers ! And is this nothing but a dream ? Must wrong go on forever ? Must poverty Forever be, And selfish greed and luxury ? Must Hate and Strife be still supreme. And Love and Peace come never ? No. I'll believe it never — no. God still reigns somewhere, brother. Somewhere, sometime, Will Hate and Crime Be over ; and a better clime Will come to men. Years happier grow, And men will love each other. The morn is rising soft and bright; The way grows light before us. Cheer, brother, cheer! Through doubt, through fear. The world grows better year by year ; And fast and bright a day of light Will spread its white wings o'er us. 20 A BETTER DAY. 'mhe ®fhcr &ibe. It may be easy for you with wealth to sing of the pleasures of life, For wealth means pleasure and comfort and ease and others to carry you through. But, given a life with mouths to feed and the means to be wrung from a strife. With every man's hand against you, and a weight to be carried beside Of the parasites hanging above you, and the best that you ceuld do, To endlessly labor — for what ? — for the leave to labor until you died. Would you feel that such a life would be a meed of endless delight? But there is a pleasure and this it is, to labor on for the Right. The world is raving " keep still" to this ; it has ever raved the same ; But thought is free and the way's to be cleared, so we're going to work it through. Whoever a coward and faint heart is, let him turn to the world and — shame ! But whoever has manhood, a warm heart and strength, whose nature is all true-blue, Come on, we will go where the way is rough, and try what good we can do. We will go our way cheerily, boys, and laugh at the world's cold spite, For there is a pleasure, and this it is, to labor on for the Right. THE MODERN SIREN. 21 Man never began on the path of progress, to stop when he got thus far. ^ye have but started ; we're going ahead, in spite of tlie piping voice Of each poor old croaker that wheezes and whines, to whom every straw is a bar That he cannot get over — away with such. We will seize the banner, boys. And go on mounting the hill of Hope, where a voice is cry- ing, " Rejoice ! <' The morn is breaking ; the world is waking." Cheerily send the cry The world around to the farthest bound, till it pierces the farthest sky. Onward, on ! Never let up while a poor man is left in sight, For there is a pleasure, and this it is, to labor on for the Right. AVhat was the song the sirens of old Sung ; when they drew the wanderer wrong, Is a thing that never has been told ; But what is the modern siren's song Is plain : 'tis " Gold — gold — gold." And after their music the vulgar throng Scamper and scramble and hurry along. 22 A BETTER DAY. O, my Mother Age, can you boast no more, Than that your children should cheat and lie And gamble and kill for a bit of ore ; While under their feet the little ones cry They are crushing to death ; and the toiling poor And maimed and unfortunate gasp and die For lack of what others have hoarded by ? And, O, my country, is this the end Of all our fathers have done for thee. That the sons of those fathers their souls should bend In a strife so mean and miserly ; To grind the poor they are sworn to defend — The poor their fathers fought to free. To bind in the shackles of slavery ? If this is the end, why then give o'er. Your struggles for liberty all are vain, Forget your glorious deeds of yore ; Forget — for the narrowing lust of gain ; — And you'll hear the voice of the ' Nevermore,' Never ending, a sad refrain, While your glories and honors and liberties wane. Not in its wealth, not in its greed, Not in its gains, is a nation great. But give each toiler his simple meed ; And lift from his shoulders the galling weight. Of the hunger and poverty, want and need. That the drones in the hive of toil create. And bright is the Future of your State. WHAT MIGHT BE. 23 Over the earth men are bursting the bands And breaking the chains of slavery. The movement is spreading to other lands, A world-wide struggle — then, Liberty. On the horologe of Time the hands Point to the dawn of a century, When the children of men shall alike be i'ree. QShaf 95lTcjh( ^c. Busy, restless sons of life, Cease a moment from your strife ; Cease to do your brother harm, Cease to grind your fellow-worm ; Decked in all the toys of pride, In your small brain deified, Boasting of your wondrous mind. To the truths around you blind. Prattling of a world of bliss, For it making hell of this, Keeping creeds barbarians made. Keeping laws that lowly laid All the better world of old, Euled by fools with rods of gold. Slaves unto the lies of Power, Flitting insects of an hour. While the stars look down from far. Let me tell you what you are. 24 A BETTER DAY. Close behind and close before Is a boundary and a shore ; Sound the waves.beyond, "No More.' In this vale the life of man Flashes for a moment's span. Ruled in this by certain Fate, Why, my brothers, will you hate ? Why, ray brothers, will you be But the shallowest mockery Of the spirit that you claim Lives within^this mortal frame? Why forever make a lie Of the creed you daily cry ; Claim the special care of God, Daily grovel in the mud? Why beneath your cruel ban Do you crush your fellow-man. Who believes but what he can ? Crush him because he, forsooth. Finds a different road to Truth ; Strives a slightly different way Up into the light of day ? Why hold all the earth in fee, While the millions round you be Dying in their misery ; For the lack of that you hold In abundance manifold, Held from need by bars of gold ? Heard you not the orphan cry For the food you're hoarding by ? WHAT MIGHT BE. 25 Heard you not the widow weep For the joy you from her keep? Know ye not the hearts that bleed In the bitterness of need ? Know ye that no law or creed Can make anything but theft Of the act that has bereft These of that by Nature given — These, the poor, that long have striven, Piling up the wealth you bear. Bending 'neath their load of care, Crying pity, in their moan. Vainly to your hearts of stone ? Men too long have lied to you ; Now at last rise up a few That will tell you what is true. Fearing not your praise or blame, They will call you by your name. Let us hope, if we can hope. That a brighter day may ope For the truths that blindly grope In the human mind for light ; Striving to the outward Right ; Striving into harmony With the better things that be In the near Infinity ; Making all our longings seem Something farther than a dream. Busy, restless sons of life, Cease a moment from your strife ; 26 A BETTER DAY. Cease to do your brother harm, Cease to grind your fellow-worm ; You of better brain and heart, Come and bear with us a part. Better things may wait us on ; There may be a brighter dawn. You, who stand but in the way Of the souls that take the van, I would ask you not to stay Too long in the path of Man, Like a stumbling-block and stone, Lest the world should think you one, And your children might think shame That you gave to them your name. Softly shines the morning star. Rising o'er the eastern sea. While the stars look down from far, Men of toil, think what you are. Then of that which you might be. % ^o 'ISXoi ^nmv, 25 ©annof "^cU. I do not know, I cannot tell AVhat's in the world to be ; But in the shadow of a spell That's passing over me I feel the breath of greater things. And hear the voice of fresher springs. When men have grown more free ; When greed and power and wars are gone Like mist before the morning sun. I DO NOT KNOW, I CANNOT TELL. 27 I cannot tell, I do not know But this is all a dream ; And yet I would not think it so. . It gives a brighter gleam That shines to all humanity ; A star that riseth peacefully, And sheds its softer beam. Like Hope, a morning star, whose glow Falls on the poor man's world below. I know the few have ever held All wealth, all power, in fee. I know the few the power still wield, The rest in slavery. I know Injustice reigns supreme ; And yet I cannot, will not, dream That this must ever be. I'll dream a world some time, some place, Of brighter suns, of better days. I know these few did ever get The brightest, best, of earth ; And those that by their honest sweat Have brought the harvest forth, To feed the monster in whose clasp They all were writhing, in whose grasp Perished all honest worth, In toil and sweat and blood have died For titled idleness and pride. 28 A BETTER DAY. I know the many long have wept In want and poverty. I know that those the earth have kept, When struggling to be free, The titled parasites of thrones Have strewn earth with their blood and bones, And laughed in lordly glee, To see the toilers who had made The wealth, by that wealth lowly laid. I know these things are standing now, Much as they stood of old. I know that Power upon his brow Wears still one title—" Gold." I know that pureed which marks the stronoj, I know that selfishness and wrong Still stifle in their fold The poor. I know that Mammon brings A rule has hard as that of kings. I know, I hiow that it is wrong To rail 'gainst things that be. I know those who have suffered long Should, uncomplainingly. Be ground down in the dust, and bear Their hell of night and black despair ; And never sigh to see A brighter day ; not even to know Their children's world might better grow. I DO NOT KNOW, I CANNOT TELL. 29 I know also that Truth hath grown At last to seem a lie. I know that seated on the throne Is meek Hypocrisy. I know that lack of brains don't hold, When he who lacks them, lacks not gold, I know that you and I Should bow our heads in silence meek, ' But, though all hell break, I will speak. Who said that all the earth should be Held only by the few ? Who said that toilsome slavery Should bind the ones who do And those who do not should ride high In lordly ease and luxury ? Who said earth's harvests grew But for the swine, who hoard them by From some who weep and some who die? I do not know, I cannot tell What coming years will bring. I only dreamed a shadow fell, Thrown from some farther wing, As if there were a Destiny, That hovered in some Future sky, That o'er my soul did fling A shadow, from a sun that there Shines down more gentle and more fair. 30 A BETTER DAY. My soul bounds out across the years Into a brighter sky ; And flings her veil of qualms and fears And duller doubtings by. I do believe in Truth and Right, In human grandeur, that more bright In happy vales that lie Just out beyond the present ken, Shall grow with brighter days for men. 1 @^ ^c QSho ^opc fhe Oilman ^xxxb, O, ye who love the human kind ; Who love to watch the human mind Grow still forever free ; O, come ! we'll bring the sweeter light ; We'll bring a day of Peace and Right To all Humanity. As true as the morn will rise, Or the winter melt in spring. So true a new sunrise A happier day will bring ; And the voice of our victories Ever ring. Join the hands in every place : Swell the choral song ; Ye who love the human race. Ye who hate the wrong, TO THE GOAL. 31 For the poor ones of the race, They have suffered long ; But a cloud is bright'ning Under the sun ; And the bolts of lightning, Searing, run To the heart of the wrong, and the work is begun. Brothers, work ; we will despair not ; Let the world rave ; we will care not. Thought is free ; we'll clear the way, For our eyes are looking dawn ward, And the world is moving onward To a Better Day. For the dawn will have birth, And the night will flee ; And the day come forth Of Liberty, When the poor of the earth. From the sea to the sea are free. "©o fhe ^ "^V y"^ v^^^;.;^..^ ■ \;s«;-v '■*» \ ** • *« -J « \/ •■•*'•. ,\ .i/^:. *• iiV ' ^*^- VJ.^ ^^v:v ♦'■y M$ <^'\ \> ...v^ "t- .• :wJ- ^ ».*