Ifispirfeci Poems ^mn m mmmm Class _Ai COPYRIGHT DEPOSrR No longer men are the dupes of kings. And titles now are empty things. Of power shorn. The Vision. /^ \? Copyright, 1917, by Charles L. H. Wagner CAMBRIDGE, MASS. HUNTINGTON ART PRES! 1917 DEC -8 1917 ©C1,A4779:H This book is Inscribed to MR. EDWIN F. EDGETT Literary Editor of the Boston Transcript, whose kind offices and helpful words have so often encouraged and heartened me in my literary efforts. i*«? in^ Charles L. H. Wagner. To the Reader : I offer no apology for these verses. They may or may not appeal. They are the product of the times. The fruit of spontaneous, responsive thought on the events of the moment, with the one ideal uppermost in the writer's mind, — the ultimate federation of the world and the fellowship of ALL nations. God speed the day I The Author PAGE Look to the End 13 The Retinues 15 The Glory and Shame of God ... 19 The Hypocrite 21 The Makers of War 23 An Apostrophe to the Year 1917 . . 25 The Vision 27 The Yellow Cloud 31 A Handful of Meal 35 Where is the Man? 4-1 Necessity 4-3 The Voices of My Soul .... 45 Think on Empires 49 The Peace of the Hun .... 51 Watch Out, O Land o' Mine ... 53 My Country 55 The Sky is Awake 57 The Unfolding Will 59 Build Me a Lodge 61 True Patriotism 63 No Man's Land 65 O Lady of the Snows .... 67 The Bravest Man 69 Our Flag 71 Honk t0 tl|f lEnb T/ze sinking of the Lusitania by a German submarine prompted this poem. ^1 HE German Empire is no more, 'l The hand that struck unseen ® An ocean's ruling queen, Has stricken hearts of milHons more Than sank in waters green, Cursed be that hand unseen ! The Emperor of Hate has smiled, And in his smile he lost What centuries have cost, The reverence born to German child, A people's love embossed On Union's shield; — yes, lost! Oh, we whose veins })rove Teuton sires, Who heretofore were proud Of German traits endowed, Must grasp Hate's fagot's from War's fires, And hide its deeds with shroud, O, God! — and we've been proud! Page Thirteen 1 ®I|0 ISrttnura ^/^IKE a bolt from out the sky, itj With its vivid, blinding flash, Like the thunder's grinding crash, Like the wind-waves on the rye. On the shimmering, ghostly wrings Of the man-birds of the air. With the bombast and the flare Of the iron hulls of kings. So came War. Like the frightened mew-guU's flight. Rising swift with startled cries. As the circled w^hite moon dies In the cloud-black depths of night, 'Midst the dirges of the weak And the fear-doubts of the strong, 'Midst the vaunt of martial song And the sword blade's cut-air shriek. So fled Peace. Followed each a retinue, War, the mightj^ proudly stalked, Close-heeled by the hosts who walked Liveried in sombre hue Page Fifteen] Of the Grand Duke Death, the grave, Goaded by Wrong's fancied stings And by bravura of kings. Honest hosts, 3^et withal slaves, Slaves of War. Like the vultures of the plain. Tagging on, and grasping tight. Came the spectres of War's night. Chortling o'er their toll of slain ; Full accoutred, Famine rode, Pestilence ranged to and fro. Poverty, like carrion crow, Ate the seeds that Peace had sowed, Seeds of Love. Such a retinue had War. Peace, the passive, when she fled. Marched with Progress straight ahead To the realms of Future Law. Justice rode on jewelled seat. Wealth and Honor marked the way. Industry linked hands with Play, Hope, victorious o'er defeat. Ensigns bore. When the War-clouds have been rent, When Love's seeds once more take root And the blood -riched ground bears fruit. When the strength of Might is spent, [ Page Sixteen When a sane world, now o'erthrown By grim War and retinue, Holds its futile ends in view. Then shall Peace come to its own And for aye. Page Seventeen] (lil|f O^lory unh S>l|amr of (^ah /g^OD created man. He breathed into the mould \l^ His sacred breath, and from the base arose A prodigy of earth ! Supreme o'er finite things And heir to infinite. Creative power He gave In all save life. As dv^^elling place He loaned The gem of all His millioned stars, He bade man live; — live, and joy in life; Man w^as the glory of God ! God created man. The power He gave to clay Grew insolent and arrogated all to self; Denied the right to create life, man joyed And revelled in destruction's fearful might. He killed, 3^et not content with slaughter of the brute, The instruments of death he hurled upon his kind For fancied v^rongs. The Universe sheds tears. Man is the shame of God! Page Nineteen] J QIl|r %|i0rrttp Thus Spake the Hypocrite : ^4, '71 DID not seek this thing, 'twas thrust upon My meek and lowly self, Oh foul the deed ! Here lie my hero dead, for me they died. Nor questioned why, and all because of those Who, like a host of vandals seeking prey. Sought to destroy and lay our land to waste. Rude, lustful men, not knowing kultur's pride. Deaf to the mandates from my august throne Prompted by Love, with none of War's desire. Which, if obeyed, would make this mundane world Utopia for all." The Poet Deigns Reply : '*0, base, unworthy wearer of thine ermine robes, Thy acts belie thy weak and supine words. Were twenty years of ceaseless, studied toil To hoard the garnered crops that Death had sown For naught but love? Was it for this you heaped A golden minted store, and builded vast And mighty arsenals where molten steel Ran like the freshet brooks in moulds of Hell? Was it for Love thy banquet toasts were made Page Twenty-one] To that e'er Hearing and designed-for ' Day ' ? Was Love the prompter when thy men prepared With thy consent the noxious, poisoned gas To blast and kill? Was this all done for naught? Go, shed thy tears, — the whirlwinds sown of yore Have gathered force, and even now o'er whelm And frighten thee. I would not change my place, My humble lodge, a poet's frugal life For all the vast estates and honors thine Were consciences to be exchanged, and hearts, I sing of Love, not hate, save to th}- kind. Thou hypocrite! " [Page Twenty -two ii«|e iiakrra nf Mar /|^H, to be able to say it, so that all might XJj/ understand, The Makers of War are the rulers of men who trust in the mailed hand ; For their nation's will is a man's will, and their people are not free, When they bare the sword to the world, my friend, it affects both you and me ; Yes it does! — Both you and me! Oh, I heard the songs from the gifted Noyes, ere he left for another shore. And I heard him sing of blood and war, till my soul cried out "No more!" And I thought of old Leige's ooze and gore, and then of a nation's shame. And I looked for the cause, and I found it, friend, — one breaker of faith was to blame. Yes, — one breaker of faith was to blame! Oh, rotten the soul that guages itself by measures of silver and gold, Yes, Mone3''s behind every motive and act when Honor is broke in its mould Page Twenty-three] And the War-lords pledge their people's souls, and your soul, my friend, and mine Are bartered away in their halls of state, then Wine-presses burst with the wine. And Honor's a sop to the wine ! Oh, to be able to say it, so that all might under- stand, The Makers of War are the breakers of seals and pledges they signed by hand ! For their glor3^'s scream is a gutteral croak, it is choked by carrion meat. And their nation's strength is sapped to the bone when it feeds on the husks of deceit. And War is naught but deceit! [Page Twenty-four An Apnfitrn^l)? to % f par IBIZ (§ MOTHER of Futures, O child of the Now, Born with the birth-mark of War on thy l)row. Nourished on Hate, and ambition's desire, Thy Godfather, Mars; thy baptism, Fire, Destined to mark on Eternit^^'s scroll A red written record unmatched b^^ the whole; Fated to bring Despair as a cloud, With Death in its mists that shall many enshroud. Purposed to shake the foundations of Earth, To unmake some nations that past years gave birth. Freighted with fears of the weak and the strong. Singer to be of aggrandizing song. Maker of men and despoiler of kings. Thy quick ears shall list to the bound underlings, Freedom for many shall ride in thy train Though Bigotry's curse shall its millions enchain. Thy dawning shall gleam with the East's yellow sun Proving Nippons and Manchus and Tatarics one; Thy stars mark the goals that Progress shall make When the king-ridden hordes shall from slumbers aw^ake, Page Twenty-five] Thy gifts thou Shalt pour in Humanity's lap, Thy Peace shall its mantle o'er multitudes wrap, Though darksome the potents of thy horescope, ' O Year of all years, thy Birthright is Hope. [Page Twenly-si> ®l|e lSt0t0n Written February, 1916 y:g2'IFTED of prophecy? — No, not I, \|a I only glimpse the future years Through eyes undimnied by falling tears These eyes not mine. I only see the cloudless sky With mellow blush of dawning Hope, The Future's kiss to those that ope The Door Divine. Who raised the veil? — I cannot tell; I only know I saw, and seeing wrote Not of the things mine eyes denote In worldly gaze. Not of the boundless realms where dwell The souls of millioned a^ons past. Not of the worlds in the ether vast, But coming days. Behold the truth ! I saw the Law, The Law of Retribution, held Like a flaming sword o'er the eagles felled To rise no more; Page Twenty-seven] I saw in the strength of the Lion's paw, I saw in the might of the stalking Bear, In the whelps and the cubs from the common lair The Law — the Door! I saw ere the moon had waned twice On the plains where the oriflamme of France Once flew for the Emperor of Chance And marked his path, The hosts of the West like a clenching vise Squeezing the hearts of the common blood And potting the soil with an iron flood In hellish wrath. While the winged man-birds and the vulture boats Perched on the rim of the weeping sky Dropped from the heights (nor questioned why) Death's blasting hail ! And I saw, like a cloud of mist that floats O'er raging streams, the spirit host Rise from the depths, — Oh, vain man's boast! For no avail. When the stinging wind and the clamor ceased, I saw where the black and gold had flown In the strength of might and proudest known, A broken line. And I saw the fear-filled mobs released And flee in the panic of retreat. While the victors marched with rhythmic feet. Their goal the Rhine! [Page Twenty-eight Then the seeing eyes viewed another sight, A caged fleet by the sea-gnats stung, A dying Emperor's heart, unwrung, But soon to be. For the driven mass and the slaves unite With a howling curse on the blasted dream, An empire built on a might supreme. Through Kultur free. I viewed the crescent minarets Once more replaced by the cross-crowned spires, But the Bear was shamed by his lust's desires. And hid his head. And the crowns of the East and the coronets Of the Western world were flung aside. For a God-sent Man in a serving pride Ruled all instead. Then my eyes looked toward the rising sun, And I laughed at the soulless, coward fear Of the simple folk who in trembling hear The yellow drum; For I saw through the ego lately won The honest heart of a new-born race. The cry of a nation seeking place Denied by some. With the waning strength of my vision now Bringing me back to the red-war scenes. Seeing yet clear through the year-mesh screens, I glimpsed a class Page Twenty-nine] Sensing the rights of its own, somehow Refusing to cringe to an age-old whip, Forcing the Bear to release its grip Through power enmasse. Ere my vision ceased, there came the thought No longer men are the dupes of kings, And titles now are empty things, Of power shorn. And then as my vision came to naught, But one thing was there left to see, A hand upraised against me. Yet overborne. [ Page Thirty ail|f fallout Qlloub A CLOUD, a yellow cloud, and deep and dense (Methought the farmer-gods burned saffron pitch Or damped the stubble from their garnered fields To smother flame, save for a breath to fan Their slow consuming fire). It rose. The sun, My laughing, joyous sun, that sang of Hope And gave me life, a poet's life — yea, more — Was lost to view and but for truant rays Tinged with a yellow cast, the day was done. And with a rush the winds of Heaven shook And swayed the giants of my little world, I thought them strong (I mean the oaks and pines My sires planted in the bygone 3^ears), Some fell, their roots exposed a worthless clay, But most stood firm, though beat by scourg- ing blasts And hissed by mocking Voices of the winds. And I — I was afraid. I looked, and lo ! In the blackening deeps of the cloud I saw Page Thirty-one] (As though I had gazed on a silvered glass That mirrored the deeds of a demon world) A picture of War! Men mounted and afoot, Guns, weltering steel, man's vulture -like planes, The gray of the froth-churning fleets of the sea, The eye of the seeing yet shadowless boat Still lying beneath the crests of the waves ; All this did I see, and more. In the west Leered a Mongol face with a jealous hate Expressed thereon. And then a shadow^ hand Wrote with a blood -dipped pen (a broken spear) These dismal words — " For you to come, for you! " I closed m^^ eyes, the Coward-thought had gripped And held me bound — and then, to view again I opened them. Behold ! That yellow cloud Had almost disappeared. Its fleeting fringe Formed on the blue of the heavenl^^ bowl As though it were writ by the Maker's hand, The one word "Fear." I knelt, and under- stood ; The sun drove off the winds. My little world Once more rejoiced; the fallen trees I left That I might be reminded of these truths : [Page Thirty-two Fear is a cloud, a shadow, seeming real. Portentous glooms give way to joyous suns, The winds of doubt can but uproot the weak ; No more I'll fear again. Fear is not real. Page Thirty -three] An ^miiM of Mml An handful of meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse.'' — 1st Kings, 17:12. 3 SAT in my cosy study with naught but the Hght from the log That burned on the hearth-stone ruddy, defy- ing the damp and the fog Of the out-doors' dark and gloom, And I heard the cold winds bluster as they swept from the Blue Hihs down, While the rain-drops gleamed with lustre like the jewels of a crown On the windows of my room. There I mused o'er a poet's yearnings, and I longed for a theme and song That, like the log in its burnings, would flout all the storms of Wrong And banish the glooms of pain ; When, up-startled quick, I listened to the moanings of the wind And saw where the window glistened, a picture, sharp defined In a globule of the rain. Page Thirty-five] Like a lens with its focal power reducing a mir- rored scene, That fleck of the whipping shower then thrown on my glazed screen Reflected a saddening sight, For my mind had a sensive coating, and the image transferred there Still lives in its confines, smoting and chiding me, whene'er My ease-fond heart sings light. 'Twas a garret in the cit}^, one my pen could never draw. And my soul was filled with pity at the wretched- ness I saw. In no place mollified. There, a woman I saw, weeping, ^while around her on the floor Lay three little children, sleeping, rags their cover- let, no more. No warm fire I espied. Starved, the form that I saw bending o'er a cup- board, seeming bare, 'Twas a picture most heart-rending, one of poverty 's despair. Foreign, even unto me. Roughened hands she w^rung in sorrow^ tears re- doubled in their flow [Page Thirly-si3{ As she thought of the to-morrow and of what it might bestow, Dark the potents, I could see. In the flickering lamp-Ught gleaming, I beheld an earthen crock, Which, though once with flour teeming, now a handful held, to mock And to jeer at falling tears. Then I thought of that old story, handed from the ages down. Of a prophet, old and hoary, of a widow in a town Gone for lo, these many years. And how God, through him, sustained her, though the meal and oil ran low. Through her faith, the scant remainder, never seemed to lesser grow All despite the common use. And I wondered if past ages were more favored by the Lord, If our griefs He still assuages, when His merc^^ is implored. If He still refills Life's cruse? While I mused, another falhng raindrop, merged in unison With the first, that scene appalling, was translated into one Filled with even greater shame, Page Thirty -seven] I beheld a battle raging, I could see the cannon's flash, And the smoke arose, presaging death to thousands in the clash, Hell-like seemed War's lurid flame. In the midst of that fierce battle, 'twixt both armies in a trench. Undisturbed by roar and rattle, minding not the rotting stench, Lay a soldier nigh to death, In his hand a picture showing wife and children counting three, Who, I could not help but knowing were the same that I did see, Rapt, I held my quickened breath. First, he gazed on it intentl\% wath a smile upon his face. To his lips he raised it gentl^^ then I saw the tear- drops race Down each blackened, smoke-stained cheek, And I saw his lips beseeching God Almighty them to spare. When a hurtled shell came screeching, falling clovse beside him there, Crazed by fear, I gave a shriek ! In my fright, I lost the setting of the picture in the rain, [Page Thirty-eight And my eyes were welled and wetting, for the tears knew no restrain, I had seen what War had wrought, And the darkening shadows lengthened, as the char- ring log low-burned, Though the blackened depths but strengthened all that plastic mind discerned. Coming, as it did, unsought. Then I looked for m3^ vision's meaning, for I knew that a lesson lay In these pictures for my gleaning, so I read what the prophets say, And this was revealed to me; If thou draw out thy soul's deep measure to the hungry, and satisfy need Of afflicted hearts with thy treasure, thy light shall the noon-day exceed And rise from obscurity.* And I read of the promise spoken, He wovdd widows and fatherless shield, For the handful of meal was a token of bushels His harvests should yield. And herein my lesson lay ; And I vowed that the poet's mission would hence- forth be, to bring A world of self-men to contrition, and teach of the jo3'S that spring From sharing our joys alway. * Isaiah 51t:10 Page Thirty-nine] nt XB % ilait? /|j\H, show me the man who can luring the V!^ world Back, back to the paths of reason, Back, back to its normal season. Who will dare the Truth, though the bolts be hurled At him with the cries of "Treason," With the Poltroon cries of " Treason." Oh, show me the man wnth a soul so great That bleeds for each war-rift nation. Who strives for the defecation Of the sordid passions of lust and hate. The basis of War's causation. Of every War's causation. Oh, show me the man who can act the Christ In a time when Christ is forgotten. When the very earth is rotten With the wasted blood of the sacrificed. And Christ is a misbegotten, And scorned as a misbes^otten. Page Forty-one] Oh, show me the man that will lead the way, For him every heart is yearning. Great God! — is there no discerning Such a mighty soul in the world to-day ? Must we wait for the Christ's returning, For the Nazarene's returning? [Page Forty-two Nrr^flBtlij There was a Door to which I found no key"' The Kubaivat. I Had a Dream: TJfHERE was a Door to which I found no key, ^^ 'Twas set within a cragged wall of black And seemingly inpenetrable rock, One graven word it bore, — "NECESSITY," I rapped, the hollow echoes answered back The feeble soundings of my futile knock. I pleaded, wept, and beat w4th bruised hands, Oh, many were the years I'd traveled far, A w^earied pilgrim seeking peaceful rest. My feet were sore from rugged mountain lands That I had climbed to view the glory Star Of Peace, that gleamed o'er realms of nations blest. To no avail were tears and pleading word, But, as the lightnings rift the lead-cloud sky And thunder shakes the trembling earth below, There came a flash, the boom of cannon stirred And shook the erstwhile silences on high, I heard the millioned dying shrieks of woe. Page Forly-three] Methought then, surely some would ope the door, To succor, cheer, and help a war-cursed race, **0, open Door," I prayed, — that prayer from me Was lost amidst the wails the sea-winds bore From drowning babes; — yet still flashed from its place That graven, coward word: — "NECESSITY." ''O, Door," I cried, "Unyielding, base and cold, To what fell purpose art thy portals reared ? Who lives within the haunts thou guardest well?" And as I spake, before my eyes unrolled Another scene, — the door had disappeared; A Nation's heart, seared with the brand of Hell, — "NECESSITY." [Page Forty-four ®^H^ Ufltofi af iMg *oul 3 HEARD a song of rapturous tone and harmony divine Which burst within my soul to-day, such music ne'er was mine, It seemed to break the prison walls which bind and compass round My finite self, and all at once God's infinite I found. The blended notes of music rose and swelled until I thought My ears the golden harps and lutes of Paradise had caught, And like the mighty billows of the deep unfathomed sea They surged and rolled triumphant in majestic harmony. And for the once I grew afraid and cried aloud in fear, I questioned if the Master-Mind intended me to hear, I wondered if the slender cord which ties me down to earth Had parted strands; and I had gained a new and heavenly birth. Page Forty -five] As in a vision seemed to come from out the peopled air A shining form of beauty, pure, radiant and fair. And then I listed to a voice which bade my fears depart, So calm, so sweet, assuring me, that I at once took heart. And lo, it spake to me again and this is v^hat it said : "The music that's within thy soul is echoed from the dead Who died in strife betwixt the men and nations of the past And see the morrow bringing a joyful peace at last. They see the sword and bayonet once red with human gore Now beaten into plough-shares for the world know^s war no more. And they see the nations living in harmony as grand As the music of their voices, with peace in every land. As they contemplate the blessings which the future shall make knowai. When peace is all triumphant and the fear of war has flown, [Page Forty -six They sing aloud Hosannas to the Holy Trinity Which is to-day and yesterday and evermore shall be. Because thy heart's attuned in love unto thy fellow- man, Thou heard st their joyful music and bridged v^ith mighty span The distance 'tw^ixt the finite world and Heaven's border-land, Although of mortal clay thou art, thy soul doth understand." And saying thus the vision passed from out m)^ inner sight, The music ceased and all was still and quiet as the night. But ever shall its memory haunt, and I shall hear that song Until the day God calls me home and I shall pass along. But ere that time shall come to me, I trust that I shall learn The first few bars of that grand tune to teach the hearts that yearn And pray each day that Christ-like love shall on the earth increase To ope the eyes now blinded to a Universal Peace. Page Forty -seven] OIl|tttk nn lEmpir^a j|t|tANY'S the man who's fitted to lead jJKL Progression's van and empires build, Yet dribbles his time with things that impede And obstruct the things which might be fulfilled If he were but bold ; Many's the place which harbors the man Who's fit to be king, yet by reason of doubt Contented remains and does what he can In some petty place with peasants about, And rusts and grows old. Many's the man whose parish has claimed All of his might while the world waits and waits For someone like him w^ho can be inflamed With zeal for its needs and whose strength animates The dull, sluggish mass; Many's the place like Bethlehem small. Least in world-fame, yet is destined to bring From out of its midst a ruler of all, Crowned and acclaimed a Saviour and king, Too great for one class. Page Forty -nine] Many's the man and many's the place That needs to be roused to the things they can be, Many's the land and many's the race That offers a field for activity When once the3^ awake; If men will but think on empires grand Instead of on parishes petty and small, Their minds will mature and their souls will expand. And they will be ready to answer the call The Future shall make! [Page Fifty ail? Prarr of tl|e ^nn m ##fUtlE offer you peace" — O, Heaven, look down The trenches are deep in France! Its ground is sodden with blood, And crepe is the symbol of Belgium's crown, Its honor is nailed with a lance, And its glory is trailed in the mud. The mud of the terrible Hun ! "We offer you peace'" — Such peace is a truce, Oh, trust not the word of the Hun, A lie unforgotten still stings! Men cannot forget the war-dogs let loose By the breaker of pledges; — the one Who laughed at the honor of kings, Himself the peace-breaking Hun ! The Devil mast heg for peace ! I Page Fifty-one] Watrli fflut, ® ^£mh o* miml ^TfO-DAY for peace, — to-morrow, — wars, ^/ God help To-morrow's child ! Prepare! The eagles bare their claws, The lion rages wild ; A blood-crazed race on Poland's soil Plas grappled with the bear. War's cauldron, hot, begins to boil, Why flout the signs? — Beware! The louring clouds loom where we stand, Death's guns reverberate And shake the hills on Freedom's land. Ambition precedes Hate! And monarchs wnth empire dreams. Cursed by ''King's rights divine," Have gauged thy strength within their schemes, Watch out, O land o' mine ! Page Fifty -three] M ili| (Ecuntru Country is the World — the whole round World ; I scorn the boundaries of State, I hate the narrowness of Hate, The Empire-dreams of Would-be-great, The cabined soul, the shallow pate Of one-land folk, I hate! — I hate! ! My Country is the World — the whole round World ; The soil, the mould-damp soil aw^akes The life in countless seeds, and makes An Eden of the blooms. The brakes That skirt the borders of the lakes Share in the life each bloom partakes. So I, a child of the whole round World, Share with the black in the tropic sun, With ni}' brother-man where the ice-vStreams run, The gifts of the Master-soul, begun Withi the breath called Life, that made ALL one, With the Love that drew from obHvion The World — MY Country. Page Fifty-five] ®l|? g>kg is Auiakr! Suggested by a little child, who, seeing the first blush of the dawning day, awakens his mother with the cry, " Mamma, the skv is awake /" ,UT of the mouths of babes come words with Ij-/ wisdom fraught, The eyes of a child have seen the hght of a dawning thought, The sky is awake, awake, and the beams of the rising suti Reveal on cerulean blue a Promised Day begun; A day when the hopes of men have fruited into life, A day when a brother's hand replaces a stranger's strife, A day when the tides of youth are impelled by an impulse strong To beach on a common shore the wreckages of Wrong, A day when the bonds of race, and the blood- marked bounds of State Are lost in the Heart of God and the Love that knows no hate! Page Fifty-seven] Oh, the sky is awake, awake, — rejoice O Soul of mine! And open thine eyes, my Heart, and welcome the glad sunshine, The sky is awake, awake, O World with your burdened care Rejoice with the poet's child o'er your Day of Promise fair And awake with the glory sky! [Page Fifty-eight Slie Infolitug Will 3 SPAKE; Lo, my voice was heard in Cathay, Oh, strange are the deeds of men! A dream from the past fulfilled. And a voice called out from that Far-a-way And answered me again. Ere my own word-tones were stilled. Now the harnessed waves of the air-seas teem With the spoken thought of man, Oh, the great round world is small. No more shall men laugh at a poet's dream, Since Mind has bridged the span That has separated all. And I've dreamed of the time that shall surely come, Whether in my day or not, All despite the skeptic's doubt, When the ether space as a medium Will carry our earnest thought To the planets round about. And I've dreamed beside of a future year When the visions of men are keen, And Space shall its curtains raise, Page Fifty-nine] When the eye shall hold the far- friend near And the distant lands be seen, Yes, worlds by our finite gaze! If the iip-start clay hath dreamed and won Far more than mere dreams give rein, And the Earth holds secrets still. As sure as there's light in the constant vSun So sure shall all things be plain To man's dominating will. [Page Sixtj Sutlb nw a iCn&x^c 'TJJUILD me a lodge in the mountain tops, jf^ Build 'midst the silences of night For me alone, Build where Hate's blistered War-gleaned crops Are lost in the intervals of sight, To me, not grown. Build me a lodge in the swaying pines. Build where the unchained north- wind blows For me a song, Build where the sin in my heart's confines Finds grave that is deep in the riven snow. Yea, deep and strong. Build me a lodge in the wilderness. Build where the birds of the morning come With pristine notes, Build near some cave-like rock recess. Some Nature-reared palladium That peace promotes. Buikl me a lodge 'midst the scraggy oaks. Build where the wind-swirled leaves are dead But not to me. Page Sixty-one] Build where each minute twig invokes The thought of the Cause in the overhead Infinity. Build me a lodge where the ages blend, Build where the yesteryears are one With present hours, Build me a lodge where the sky-deeps lend A glimpse of the endless All, begun Through Spirit powers. I Page Sixty-two 3rur Patrinttfim NOT in the belching cannon's roar, Not in the piper's lay, Not in the flag which we adore, Nor yet in holiday; Not in the fulsome studied speech, Not in the pomp and show, Not in the rocket's sizzling screech. Nor in the fire's glow ; But in the heart, where doth abound A nobler, finer plan. Where Country's weal is the profound And holy love for man ; There is the future's heritage. There is our Country's hope, There doth the patriot's true gauge Confound the misanthrope. Page Sixty-three] Nn iEatt iCatti J 'YE never been on No Man's Land, I've never crossed the sea, But Oh, I know that No Man's Land Holds treasures dear to me, I know that somewhere on its soil The richest jewels lie. And gold is there, -aye, gleaming gold For which men strive and die. I've heard men tell of No Man's Land, How jewels have been found By some of low estate, and some Of high, upon its ground. The jewels that I long for most. And gold 1 fain would gain, But poets write, and pens are weak, For them to wish is vain. I've asked the men from No Man's Land The names of jewels there, And what's the worth of yellow gold That lies abundant there. And this is what they've answered me. They spake with bated breath, Page Sixty -five] The jewels, "Courage, Honor, Hope, The price of gold is — Death." I cannot go to No Man's Land, But oh, my heart is there, I know what men have sacrificed To gain these treasures rare, My inner eyes can see their souls As shimmering mists of gold Kissed by the sun on No Man's Land, Their numbers are untold. [Page Sixty-six 09 Haiiu of t\}t S'uniuB 01 ^1 HERE'S only a line on the map of the land ^ That separates you and me, O Lady of the Snows, One strain in our blood and one purpose in hand Whieh have drawn me close to thee ' And kinship's love bestows. One God and one hope, one aim and desire, Supreme in our libert^^ O Lady of the Snows, We're free from distrust and the rancorous fire Of hate and supremacy Which War and its litter knows. One Future secure b^^ the deeds of the past, One heritage, unexcelled, O Lady of the Snows, United by links which shall ever outlast Those w^hich Might's empires weld, And strengthened as time goes. There's only a line on the map of the land. No other disparity, O Lady of the Snows, Page Sixty-seven] Comes between you and me, and why should it stand To bar mutuality Where common welfare grows. [Page Sixty-eight Slip arauFst Mm /^OD! but it takes a man to stand \f^ Firm as a rock 'midst troubled seas When doubts assail on ev'ry hand, When friends depart and honor flees; When foes exult and cowards sneer, When soft-lived men deny and rail, And even fools at wivSe men leer, He is a man who does not quail. God ! but it takes a man to be Calm as the deep when torrents roar. When some loved soul proves Pharisee And passes by forevermore; When Povert^^ stalks grim, and rules Because of Principles, unshared, When W^rong, through precedent, befools, He is a man who stands declared. God ! but it takes a man who knows, And knowing, rights the age's wrong, Who stands alone and overthrows The moss-back doctrines of the throng; When Piety deplores his might, And lifts its hands to out-grown gods, Page Sixty-nine] When pulpits rage and proselyte, It takes a man to stand the odds. God ! but it takes a man who moves Straight to the line marked to the goal, When others follow time-worn grooves. When Custom's marks have seared the soul When others live in ease, and laugh The bravest man who dares, to scorn, When few will speak in Right's behalf. Then is the time when manhood's born! ( Page Seventy JjpET the sun of Morning kiss it, let the Evening ^y sunset glow With a warmth of love and gild it ere it sets in depths below, Let the winds caress and fold it, let the stars in glory shine On the emblem of (3ur Country, loved as your flag, loved as mine. Let the voices of our children sing the music of its soul, Chant its chorus O, ye people, till the mountain echoes roll, Sing and shout its hymn of Freedom, fling its spirit to the breeze Page Seventy -one] Till the notes are caught and answered in the hearts across the seas. Let no thought or deed unworthy smirch its stripes of purest white, Let no stain of craven silence rob its red of lustre bright, Let no shame bedim the star-shine on its field of heavenly blue. For it's OUR FLAG, friend, it's OUR FLAG; I'm proud of it; — are You? [Page Seventy-two