5 3545 
 n4 K5 
 
 )py 1 
 
 THE 
 
 INGS DREAM 
 
 OR WAR 
 
 ITS CAUSE, EFFECT 
 AND REMEDY 
 
 WHALEY 
 
I 
 
RAiraER PRINimO COMPANY 
 SEATTLE 
 
TO 
 
 HENRY FORD 
 *The Peacemaker" 
 
 This little book is respectfully dedicated 
 by the Author 
 
COPYRIGHT 1916 
 by 
 
 CHARLES FAUSTUS WHALEY 
 
 913 First Avenue West 
 
 Seattle, Wash. 
 
 MAY 23 1916 
 
THE KING'S DREAM 
 
 OR WAR 
 
 ITS CAUSE. EFFECT 
 AND REMEDY 
 
 PRICE 25 CTS. PAPER 
 CLOTH 50 CTS. 
 
 BY 
 CHARLES FAUSTUS WHALEY 
 
 Founder of the Peacemaker's Society of the 
 
 State of Washington 
 
FOREWORDS 
 
 And now, since man has fallen and returned 
 To barbarism, where the strongest win. 
 And where the weak creep closer to the v/all 
 And might is right, and mercy has no place — 
 The Star of Bethlehem has ceased to shine. 
 And Christendom has lost its law divine. 
 
 And since the devastating hand of war 
 Has burned our homes, and ruined all the land 
 Where women starve, and children beg for bread. 
 The soil is soaked with blood of brave young men ; 
 Rank thistles grow where once grew waving grain ; 
 Now, all our tears, and all our prayers, are vain. 
 
 One day a man in arrant folly said : 
 
 "To safeguard peace we must prepare for war.** 
 
 I say if you prepare for war 'twill come. 
 
 No matter how diplomacy may watch. 
 
 The hut will burn if you ignite the thatch. 
 
 No matter which crown-head applies the match. 
 
 CI.A4311V4 
 
THE KING'S DREAM 
 
 (As Related by Himself) 
 
 PROLOGUE 
 
 All day the King was seated on his horse 
 And rode from place to place ; while in review 
 His army passed in glittering pageantry ; 
 And as he saw them marching by, he said : 
 "These are my third reserves, and yet how fine. 
 They bear themselves like veterans of the line ; 
 And I will send them to the battle front 
 To fill the ranks so lately thinned by slaughter. 
 And prove to all my foes my power to rule.'* 
 
 And thus the day wore on, the busy day. 
 Train after train departed with its load 
 Of gay young men who, from their finger tips. 
 Threw kisses to their loved ones left behind, 
 And sang to them, "Goodbye, sweetheart, good- 
 bye;" 
 As for the weeping maidens, more anon. 
 
Eight Prologue 
 
 And now the day was done and half the night 
 Was also gone in council and debate 
 Concerning all the mighty cares of state; 
 The King was weary, and they said to him : 
 
 **Oh, King! you must have rest: prepare for 
 
 I»» 
 eep. 
 
 "Sleep! sleep!** said he; *'I may not sleep; 
 
 I will not go to bed, 
 For then I hear them weep, and weep. 
 
 And beg, and beg for bread. 
 
 A multitude with faces white 
 
 Stand close around my bed 
 And cry, and cry throughout the night. 
 
 And always beg for bread. 
 
 An aged woman standing there. 
 With bent and snow-white head. 
 
 Continually repeats her prayer — 
 'Oh, King! bring back my dead.* 
 
Prologue ^i^^ 
 
 A little child with bloodstained feet 
 Crowds through the weeping throng. 
 
 And asks in voice so sad and sweet, 
 'Will papa come 'fore long?' 
 
 A widow with her babe at breast. 
 
 Whose face shows toil and tan. 
 With strength of arm shoves back the rest 
 And makes me no meek request. 
 
 But shouts, 'Where is my man?' 
 
 I will array me for the night 
 
 And to my throne repair. 
 The throne room has a sacred right. 
 
 Unasked, none enter there. 
 
 Here will I sit upon my throne 
 
 And sleep here if I must; 
 I will not hear them cry and moan 
 
 And beg me for a crust." 
 
THE DREAM 
 
 The King Sleeps 
 
 And now a band of women from the fields. 
 Where they had labored through the heat of day 
 To save a pittance for the nation's bread. 
 Came in: Great, stately dames and graceful girls; 
 Fit consort, each, for soldier or for king ; 
 And with them came the astral forms of men — 
 Brave hearted men who went forth at my call 
 To conquer every land that I might rule 
 The world ; and set my foot upon the neck 
 Of all my rivals ; and be King of Kings. 
 
 — *- 
 
 How many men had sacrificed their lives 
 In this my jealous cause I could not tell ; 
 But judging from the cloud of astral forms 
 That floated o'er the heads of these fair dames 
 (Saluting me and passing out again). 
 Their number must have been uncountable. 
 
The Dream Eleven 
 
 And now these dames produced a rope of straw, 
 Made from the scattered stems upon the field. 
 And said to me: "Oh, King! come now with us. 
 The harvest is secured and we must go 
 Out to the battle front that we may help 
 Subdue the world, and all therein, for you." 
 *'No! No!" said I. *'I cannot go; my place 
 Is here where I can get the latest news 
 And tell my men which neighbor next to kill." 
 But they came up prepared to tie my hands. 
 And when I smiled at bands of straw they said: 
 "This rope is braided from green, oaten straw 
 By those who know the cunning weave of strength. 
 It will suffice, no fear of that; come on." 
 "But wail,' 'said I ; "let me put on my clothes — 
 My kingly ropes and boots and sword of steel." 
 And then they said, "Not so ! You must be one 
 Of us this day ; here is a pair of sabots. 
 Put them upon your feet ; and this smock frock 
 Will serve your need, for we have lately learned 
 That all your greatness and your power to rule 
 Lie in your raiment, not within yourself. 
 
 "*- 
 
Twelve The Dream 
 
 And we have learned that you are just a man 
 
 Like otlier men, with pride and love of self. 
 
 And jealousy ; and hatred of your kind. 
 
 And that your right divine is in your mind 
 
 And in the minds of those who follow you. 
 
 Your great ambition and your thirst for fame 
 
 Have rendered you unfit to be our King, 
 
 And we have cast you forth from out our hearts 
 
 And shut the doors thereof, and fastened them. 
 
 Now, you must come with us and count the graves 
 
 And see the carnage and the strife you cause." 
 
 And so they tied my hands and passed the rope 
 
 About my body thrice, and started forth — 
 
 A multitude, all pulling on this band 
 
 Of straw, which I was powerless to break. 
 
 I soon discovered that to keep my feet 
 
 I must proceed with speed. Ah ! how they ran. 
 
 Those women in their sabots. I, too, ran 
 
 To keep from falling prone. At last I said, 
 
 "Why run so fast? My sabots hurt my feet?" 
 
 They made reply: "Our sabots all have wings 
 
 And love inspires our flight : our loved ones wait. 
 
 We must be there in time to succor them 
 
 If they be yet alive: to bury them 
 
 If they be dead. Come on! Come on!'* they said. 
 
 And faster yet o'er field and fen they sped. 
 
The Dream Thirteen 
 
 We soon come to a fair and fertile land. 
 
 Divided into many little fields 
 
 Like garden spots, with hedges all abloom 
 
 And crops ungathered: yet no sign of life. 
 
 No human form or living thing was seen. 
 
 Some cottages with broken roofs remained. 
 
 While smoking walls and piles of ashes marked 
 
 The spot where only yesterday there lived 
 
 A family of happy peasant folk. 
 
 And now, alas ! a stillness as of death 
 
 Hung over all the land. "Where to," said I, 
 
 "Are all the people gone? or are they dead?*' 
 
 "The few that still survive are driven out 
 
 Before your mighty army," then they said. 
 
 "And though they tried to shield themselves 
 
 against 
 Your mighty hosts, they soon gave in and ran 
 Like sheep before a pack of hungry wolves." 
 
 "Come on," they said; "don't talk; the day is 
 
 spent 
 And night is coming on;" away they went. 
 And I, their captive king, sans robe, sans crown. 
 
Fourteen The Dream 
 
 Sped after them apace; now up, now down, 
 With falls galore, with bleeding hands and feet 
 No horseless king e'er made a race so fleet. 
 
 Some smoking ruins of small villages 
 
 We passed, and came at length unto the walls. 
 
 The broken, blackened, smouldering walls of 
 
 what 
 At least must once have been a city of 
 Magnificence, the home of cultured men 
 And women of refinement, and of grace. 
 For one could see outlined against the west. 
 Where yet a pale, red light of day remained. 
 The broken shapes of minarets and spires. 
 Cathedral domes half torn away by shells. 
 
 My captors here began to look about. 
 And, tying me securely to a post 
 Which later I discovered was a shaft 
 Of blackened marble, broken at the top. 
 Made off with all the speed they could employ. 
 
The Dream Fifteen 
 
 Without adieus, nor even looked my way. 
 
 Each with a spade (procured, I knew not where), 
 
 They simply ran away, and left me there. 
 
 And here was I, a great and mighty king. 
 
 Tied to a post, like any captive slave. 
 
 With bands of straw. A voice said, *'BehoId! 
 
 How cheap a thing is kingship without force. 
 
 A king without an army is a man 
 
 Of no avail, without the power to rule. 
 
 A man like other men, no more, no less ; 
 
 And often quite inferior. Indeed, 
 
 If you should put him to the test of worth. 
 
 Or merit, as you try out other men. 
 
 You soon would find his utter worthlessness 
 
 And say, 'Oh ! never mind — he'll do for a king.' 
 
 Some grand and noble emperors we've had. 
 
 And kings and queens, and rulers with a heart; 
 
 Grand sovereigns they, who ruled by love alone ; 
 
 'Twas Nature, not their title, made them great. 
 
 And yet if you should read the history 
 
 Of kings and emperors in days gone by. 
 
 From old Caligula and Nero down. 
 
 You surely must agree with me, I think, 
 
 That kings are only kings by circumstance." 
 
Sixteen The Dream 
 
 *'Who speaks?*' said I, and forthwith there ap- 
 peared 
 A man arrayed in garments red with blood, 
 Within one hand a staff; the other held 
 A lantern, which gave forth a light, blood red. 
 Who made reply : "My name is writ in blood. 
 My rightful name is Carnage. I am called 
 The God of Strife. My duty is to keep 
 The evil in the heart of every man 
 At boiling pitch that he may ^z7/, and ^i//. 
 And show no mercy — only strive and ^i7/ — 
 I am your servant and am sent for you — 
 I am to be your guide throughout this night.*' 
 
 At which he thrust his staff within the ground. 
 The knob of which burst forth a radiant gleam 
 Of light, and made the ruins round about 
 More ghastly seem. And then I saw how red 
 His garments were. 'Twas but a single sheath 
 That fitted him skin tight from head to foot. 
 And glistened in the artificial light 
 Like paint but newly laid, with varnish mixed. 
 
The Dream Seventeen 
 
 He severed now my bands and said, "Oh, King, 
 Come now with me, for I have many sights 
 And scenes which are of interest to me, 
 And will, I hope, much please your majesty." 
 But when I did essay to follow him 
 My sabots both came off, at which I said, 
 "Please wait; I've lost my sabots in the mud." 
 He made reply, " 'Tis little loss; henceforth 
 Our path leads out across the field of strife. 
 The soil of which is saturated with 
 The blood of many noble-hearted men. 
 To that extent that bare feet will be best. 
 And that which you call "mud" is sacred soil. 
 The moisture of that mix is human blood; 
 Not only that, but innocent as well. 
 The pillar where the women bound you fast 
 Was one which helped to hold the archway to 
 The door which led into a sacred place ; 
 And when your gallant army came in view 
 Hundreds of frightened men and women ran 
 Into the holy place, and, falling on 
 Their knees, besought Almighty God to send 
 Deliverance: and then a brutal mob of men 
 Rushed in and killed their victims by the score 
 Until their blood o'erfilled the sacred place 
 And ran a common flood out of the door. 
 
Eighteen The Dream 
 
 Oh, King ! it was a pretty sight to see, 
 Tliat crimson flood descend the marble steps— 
 At least it seemed a pretty sight to me. 
 Then, setting fire to this holy place, 
 They, laughing, went their way. "Come, now,*' 
 said he; 
 
 And I will show you how they did their work." 
 I followed him within the inner wall. 
 Where there arose a stench which stifled me. 
 "Stop here,*' said I; "what is this awful smell?'* 
 *'Why speak you thus?" he said. "Why call it 
 smell ? 
 
 " 'Tis but the fragrance of a sacrifice. 
 The perfume of some smouldering human flesh 
 Which once inhaled can never be forgot. 
 To stifle it your efForts must prove vain. 
 Through this world and the next it will remain. 
 I fear you are fastidious ; but come. 
 We must be on our way and loiter not. 
 When day arrives I must be at my post 
 To urge the conflict on, to catch the blood." 
 "To catch the blood," said I; "what for, I pray?" 
 "We understand that you have called for blood 
 And we are saving what we can from field 
 And hospital alike to make your bath." 
 
The Dream Nineteen 
 
 "My God," thought I, "what sort of man is 
 
 this?" 
 And as I walked along, a barefoot king, 
 I kept within the dim, uncertain light 
 Of that red lantern, guarding well my steps 
 Lest I should fall. I stumbled o'er the form 
 Of some one lying prone upon the ground. 
 "Stop, here!" said I; "and show a better hght." 
 He thrust the staff within the ground, and there 
 Upon the street the body of a man — 
 An aged man — lay prone, face down, or would 
 Have been face down had not the aged head 
 Been severed from the trunk and rolled away — 
 Lay staring up through sightless eyes at us — 
 Each hand, outstretched, held in a deathly grasp 
 Half of the severed body of a child — 
 "What does this mean?" I asked in great alarm. 
 "It means," said he, "that when your army rode 
 Up through this city street, this aged sire 
 Was crossing with this child upon his back. 
 One of your men, a gallant, brave, young knight. 
 Rode quickly up, and with one sabre stroke 
 He killed them both, then, laughing, rode away. 
 And yet there was but very little blood — 
 The grandsire was too old, the babe too young." 
 Said I, "Why do you always prate of blood?" 
 
Twenty The Dream 
 
 *'I am the God of Strife and must have blood ; 
 Blood is for war and war for blood," he said. 
 And I was sick at heart, but followed on. 
 Nor called for light again ; yet well I knew 
 That many dead men lay along the way. 
 At length we came upon a country road 
 And walked along, when from a cottage gate 
 Came forth a ghostly object, clothed in white. 
 I paused and said, "Halt here, and show a light." 
 And there before us stood a maid most fair. 
 Upon whose head a wealth of golden hair. 
 Like Nature's crown, untethered and unkempt. 
 Gave back the light like glint of glitt'ring stars. 
 Her soft, blue eyes, tear-drowned, made mute ap- 
 peal; 
 Also her arms, outheld, disclosed the fact 
 That both her hands were severed at the wrists. 
 There, mute, she stood, while tears rolled down 
 
 her cheeks. 
 "What means this horrid sight?*' I said to hiro 
 "It means," said he, "an officer of rank, 
 A man with many medals on his breast. 
 Espied this maid in all her beauty rare. 
 And said, 'I must posses her, foul or fair.' 
 But when he did essay to capture her 
 She tore his face to tatters with her nails. 
 
The Dream Twenty-one 
 
 At which he cut her hands off with his sword. 
 She saved her virtue but she lost her hands. 
 Which was a foohsh bargain on her part. 
 For since we have returned to barbarism, 
 Where might is right, here, virtue has no place."^^ 
 "Why stands she mute?" Why speaks she not?" 
 
 said I. 
 "She cannot speak, her tongue went with her 
 
 hands," 
 Said he; and, taking up his staff, he marched 
 
 along. 
 "My God!" said I, *'does war so brutalize 
 A man that he can thus maltreat a maid?" 
 "Of peasant's blood, a few drops, more or less. 
 In times of war is never marked. Besides, 
 He lost some blood himself," was all he said. 
 i then bethought to ask him of the maids 
 And matrons who had brought me here to him. 
 "Oh ! they have gone to dig some trenches wide 
 And deep upon the batde field, where now 
 For seven days the slaughter has been fierce. 
 A grave promiscuous to conceal their dead — - 
 Live men dig trenches for themselves," he said. 
 
 ■♦• 
 
Twenty-two The Dream 
 
 We now were passing through another town. 
 Or what was left of one. Thrusting his staff 
 Into the ground, we saw a blood-stained wall. 
 "Against this wall," said he, "is where they shot. 
 Deliberately killed an hundred men — 
 An hundred inoffensive, unarmed men — 
 Because they could not pay the price demanded. 
 And served them right, the wasteful prodigals." 
 
 ■♦ 
 
 And after we had walked what seemed to me 
 To be an hundred miles we came unto 
 A place that showed the ravages of war. 
 Great holes like cellars torn in all the fields 
 By the explosion of great shells : and trees. 
 Great trees were severed at the base, as though 
 Some giant with his axe of stone had hewn 
 Them down, and pounded them to fragments on 
 The ground. "Here now," said he, "I want to 
 
 show 
 You something new in warfare, quite unique." 
 And when the light he made flashed out, I saw 
 A dozen men or more in uniforms. 
 A group of officers and men, stone dead. 
 Some seated at a table, some apart ; 
 
The Dream Twenty-three 
 
 One soldier leaning on his gun as if 
 
 On guard, stood there, at "order arms" — quite 
 
 dead. 
 Their faces and their uniforms ahke 
 Appeared to be in color ashen gray. 
 Or the color of gray stone, and I said, 
 *'What happened here? are these men petrified?'* 
 "About the same," said he. "A lyddite shell 
 Burst just above this camp, the deadly fumes 
 Of which killed all these men at once. They died 
 Without the shghtest sense of pain; also. 
 Without the drawing of a second breath. 
 Tiie use of lyddite shells, however, now 
 We have tabooed, because we get no blood.* 
 "But who is this,*' said I, "who kneels apart 
 In attitude of prayer?" "Oh! that," said he, 
 "Is one they call a chaplain or 'divine,' 
 Of which there are on both sides of the line 
 A goodly number, praying night and morn 
 Unto the selfsame God to help him kill 
 His brother. Oh! King, how long can this thing 
 
 be? 
 Does it not seem a wicked, cruel farce 
 To ask Almighty God to help you kill?" 
 How cheap that man must hold his God who thus 
 Can pray. "Oh, Lord, give us the victory.*' 
 
Twenty-four The Dream 
 
 An army chaplain's prayer for victory 
 Reminds me of the howling of a wolt 
 Which, baffled in the catching of its prey. 
 Sits down and howls for help. "Come on," said 
 
 he. 
 "For now we must proceed with greater carej 
 The field in front of us is strewn with dead. 
 Horses and men are piled together there." 
 Indeed, we had not gone so very far 
 Till I become aware that it was true. 
 The ground was fairly covered with dead men. 
 With sabres, swords and bayonets all drawn. 
 For in the act of killing they were killed. 
 "Make here a tight," I said; "I'm walking in 
 The faces of the dead and yet withal 
 I've cut my feet upon their bayonets." 
 "Oh, happy, happy heroes," he began, 
 "To have a king considerate enough 
 To dofF his shoes before he treads upon 
 Their upturned faces ; and thus to be baptized 
 With royal blood from sacred royal feet." 
 
The Dream Twenty-five 
 
 **Come on, Oh, King," he said; "we must pro- 
 ceed. 
 But I had heard a mournful cry, and said, 
 *'What cry is that? Is some one yet ahve 
 In this dread place?" "Impossible," said he; 
 "There's been no fighting here these three days 
 
 past. 
 And yet upon strict search we found a man, 
 A wounded man, stretched prone upon the ground 
 Between a pile of dead men and a horse. 
 And he was crying, "Water! Oh! Water!" 
 I snatched his helmet up and from a pool 
 Nearby brought him a drink ; and how he drank. 
 And seemed refreshed. "How came you here 
 And yet alive?" I asked. He made reply, 
 "Some days ago (I know not now just when). 
 While in a charge, a piece of shrapnel tore 
 This arm away. I started to the rear. 
 Forgetting that the orders were to stay. 
 And not retreat, no matter what befell. 
 Else we should be considered foes and shot 
 This bullet through my lungs was from the gun 
 Of one of my companions in the rear. 
 And now, my man, if you were mine own king 
 I could not feel more grateful than I do 
 For all your gentle kindness unto me. 
 
Twenty-six The Dream 
 
 I know the peasant heart is always kind. 
 Be pleased to fill my helmet to the brim 
 And place it here beside me, in my reach. 
 That I may quench my thirst and die in peace." 
 **You must not die like this," I said to him. 
 "We will not let you die. We'll carry you 
 Unto some hospital and have your wounds 
 Bound up and save your life." "Not so," said he. 
 My life is scarcely worth the saving now. 
 My trade was laying brick before I came 
 To war, and now you see one hand is gone. 
 How could I earn my bread? I would be but 
 A charge upon my dear, beloved king, 
 Besides my comrades all are here at rest 
 And I will here remain — /'ve done mp besC* 
 
 Said I to Carnage, "How can this thing be? 
 Can brave good men be sacrificed like this?" 
 To which he made reply: "The sacrifice 
 Of brave, good men by thousands are as chaff 
 Blown in the eyes of enemies to blind. 
 And busy them while breach upon their line 
 Is made elsewhere. But we must hasten on." 
 
The Dream Twenty-seven 
 
 By careful strides across this sodden field 
 Bestrewn with men and panoply of war. 
 We came at last unto a river bank. 
 Where Carnage made a light. We looked about 
 And then I asked: "What land is this?" Said he. 
 "This land was once the fair abiding place 
 Of many thousand happy peasant folk ; 
 But now, alas, 'tis called *Aceldama,* 
 Which signifies a cursed field of blood. 
 For many years henceforth it will produce 
 Accursed things : no man can dwell herein. 
 The products of this soil will taste of blood 
 And even Easter lilies grown hereon. 
 Instead of being white, will bloom blood Ted. 
 
 Resuming staff and lantern then he said, 
 
 "The first gray glint of dawn I now behold 
 
 Appearing in the east, and I must go 
 
 And start the strife, and urge the wave of war 
 
 For fear if I but let them even pause 
 
 To contemplate the reason or the cause 
 
 Of this gigantic struggle among men 
 
 They would at once refuse to fight, and then 
 
 What would become of all the armament 
 
 And panoply of war? The government 
 
 Of men by force would be forever past 
 
Twenty-eight The Dream 
 
 And 'Peace on Earth' would be proclaimed at 
 
 last."^^ 
 "And now,*' said he, "proceed along this road 
 Beside this river bank, and when the day 
 Is done I will assume my role as guide. 
 Let me admonish you before we part 
 To be discreet and courteous in your mien 
 To every one you meet, and act your part. 
 For much depends upon your mode of speech 
 And attitude to people in this land. 
 The people here are not in love with kings — 
 They rate them only by the good they do. 
 Not by their power divine, which they misdoubt ; 
 Therefore, be only what you seem to be. 
 Not what you really are; and now goodbye." 
 
 And he was gone ; he disappeared as soon 
 And in the same mysterious way as he 
 Appeared the night before, and I walked on 
 As best I could ; a weary, foot-sore King. 
 And meditating on the past, I thought 
 What is it all when all is done? This strife 
 This wholesale slaughter of the human race. 
 Perhaps I erred in uttering the word 
 
The Dream Tweniy-nine 
 
 That potent word so easy to proclaim 
 And yet when once declared hard to recall. 
 Hie sun was rising as I walked along. 
 And I could see a distance down the road. 
 Where, walking to and fro, I saw a boy ; 
 Or what at first I thought to be a boy ; 
 With gun and cartridge belt and soldier cap 
 As if on guard. I soon saw my mistake 
 The soldier was a woman in disguise. 
 Or rather in a soldier's uniform. 
 Her long, black hair hung loosely down her back 
 Which waving in the breeze disclosed her sex. 
 As I approached she halted me and said, 
 *'Stand there, and truly answer on your life 
 If you have seen the king, and when, and where. 
 And you must answer make before you pass. 
 For I must know if he be on his way.'* 
 Said I to her, "Please look at me again. 
 This radiant morning light affects your sight. 
 What should I know of kings? Am I so fine? 
 Is this the garb that peasants wear when called 
 Before the King? But wherefore do you ask?" 
 
Thirty The Dream 
 
 "Because," said she, "I am the chosen one. 
 And I have made a vow to rid the world 
 Of this outrageous King; this fiend, this hrule^ 
 Who causes all this blood-shed and this strife. 
 And devastates and ruins all the land. 
 The "voices" say that he will surely come 
 Adown this path, so I stand here on guard 
 To kill him with this gun as I have vowed. 
 If you know naught of him then you may pass." 
 
 "Thank you," said I, "but e*er I go, perhaps 
 You would be pleased to tell me how this King 
 Has injured you and won your enmity. 
 Have you lost any friends in this sad war?" 
 "Oh sir; lost any friends? I have lost all. 
 My father, and my husband, and my babe. 
 And I would gladly lay me down and die. 
 But I have made a solemn vow to kill 
 This cruel King and I must keep that vow." 
 "Why should you blame the king, what has he 
 
 done," 
 Sciid I, "Did he deprive you of your friends?" 
 
The Dream Thirty-one 
 
 **Oh sir, you are a simple peasant man 
 
 Else you would know how kings destroy and kill. 
 
 Some thirty days ago, which now seems like 
 
 A thousand years (if measured by my grief, 
 
 'Tis more) this cruel king, whom I await. 
 
 Sent hordes and hordes of cruel brutes called men 
 
 Into our land to devastate and kill 
 
 Our people who had thought he was our friend — 
 
 Nor gave a moment's warning, but fell to 
 
 And killed us off assigning no just cause 
 
 Except that we stood in his royal way. 
 
 Like some respected parent catching up 
 
 A trusting child and beating it to death. 
 
 And at the first alarm my husband joined 
 
 The band of brave young men who tried to stop 
 
 The onrush of the mighty horde and save 
 
 If possible the lives of dear ones left 
 
 Behind. Alas! unequal was the strife. 
 
 We soon were driven from our happy homes 
 
 Like unfledged birdlings shaken from their nests. 
 
 Then came a band of horsemen through our town. 
 
 My father with my babe upon his back 
 
 Assayed to cross the street in front of them 
 
 When they, like many others, were cut down 
 
 And killed. Then came I to the battle front 
 
 To find my husband, and I found him here 
 
Thirty -two The Dream 
 
 And buried him behind that little hut. 
 And donned his clothes and cap, and took his gun 
 And made a solemn vow to kill the king 
 Whom all the "voices" say must come this way- — 
 But I have wearied you? You look distressed 
 And your poor feet, you must be lame, indeed. 
 Take thou this gun and guard this road with care 
 While I go to this hut and get for you 
 A pair of shoes. And should you see the King 
 Approaching you, begin to shoot, and shoot 
 To kill. No mercy he deserves ; and you may know 
 Him by this picture here. I tore it from 
 A book. See how he is arrayed ; gold lace ; 
 Gold cord ; gold buttons and gold medals, too,** 
 And here she drew a picture of myself 
 From out her bosom and presented it. 
 And so I stood on guard against myself, 
 My real self and knew at last my worth 
 As rated by the people I oppressed. 
 She soon returned, bringing a pair of shoes 
 Also a pail of water; then she said, 
 "Sit down upon this bank, and I will bathe 
 Your feet, for nothing must defile these shoes, 
 Inside at least, for they are sacred shoes. 
 The man who wore these shoes was brave and true. 
 And pure of heart; these were my husband's 
 shoes — 
 
The Dream Thirty-three 
 
 How many, many pathways have they trod 
 Of mercy and true service unto God." 
 
 And standing there she held the shoes aloft 
 And prayed, "Oh Lord, please sanctify these 
 
 shoes 
 Unto the use of this poor peasant man. 
 And let them bear him to his home and friends 
 As they did bear my husband to his death.'* 
 
 And as she talked and worked I heard the roar 
 Of cannon in the distance, and I said, 
 "Do you not hear the battle raging now?" 
 "Oh yes, but that is naught to me," she said, 
 "I'm chosen, and put here to kill the King.'* 
 
 And now arising from her task she said, 
 "If you were King of Kings you could not be 
 More sacredly or honorably shod. 
 And I would give you food, but sad to say. 
 My last black bread was eaten yesterday. 
 
Thirty-four The Dream 
 
 And there I stood a broken-hearted king, 
 And taking from my neck a golden chain 
 From which suspended hung an iron cross. 
 And clasping it about her neck I said, 
 "Please wear this chain, 'tis all I have to give 
 For you must see that I am poor indeed. 
 And if you are in need, or sore oppressed. 
 Display this cross that hangs suspended here 
 In any camp on this side of the line 
 And all your wants will be supplied forthwith. 
 The token they will recognize at once. 
 For they will know what peasant(?) gave you 
 this." 
 
 And thus we parted and I went my way. 
 For now the sun was up and it was day. 
 Yet 'twas a blood red sun, and in the West 
 A half a dozen other suns appeared. 
 Or so they seemed — those burning villages. 
 And as I walked along my thoughts ran thus, 
 *'How has the mighty fallen, a mighty King 
 Most thankful for a pair of peasant shoes." 
 
The Dream Thirty-five 
 
 And now I came upon some soldiers who 
 
 Were dragging a disabled gun along. 
 
 Upon the frame of which a dead man lay; 
 
 And over him a flag I recognized 
 
 Was draped with care. They halted me 
 
 And asked about the roads. "TTie roads," said I, 
 
 "I am a stranger in these parts. I have 
 
 No knowledge of the roads. Why do you ask?'* 
 
 "At high noon yesterday we were sent forth 
 
 To take this gun, and bring it in," they said. 
 
 "We were a thousand then, and now you see 
 
 We are but thirty men. We got this gun and flag 
 
 But lost our dear commander who lies there 
 
 Beneath that flag. The pontoon where we crossed 
 
 Was shot away so we were then compelled 
 
 To make this wide detour to cross this stream" — 
 
 And on they went a weary funeral band. 
 
 "My God," said I, "What sacrifice is this. 
 Nine hundred and seventy men for one 
 Old broken gun and one old tattered flag!" 
 
Thirty-six The Dream 
 
 The day wore on and I went on my way 
 
 As one may walk and yet be sound asleep 
 
 And dreaming that he dreams. And now I came 
 
 Upon another slaughter yard bestrewn 
 
 With dead men piled in winrows and in heaps 
 
 And little pools of blood lay all about. 
 
 Or bloody water as it proved to be ; 
 
 And dancing through these pools a maiden fair 
 
 I saw, and wondered at her crazy pranks — 
 
 As I came up she stood barefooted in 
 
 A pool of blood and sang to me this song, — 
 
 SONG 
 
 '*I love my little sister best of all, 
 But now she's gone ; gone to her happy home. 
 She will not come though I may call, and call. 
 And though I sing for her she will not come.** 
 
 And many times she sang this selfsame verse 
 As she went dancing through the pools of blood. 
 At eventide I came upon a scene 
 
The Dream Thirty-seven 
 
 Which halted me, and caused me much surprise. 
 
 Within a little garden patch I saw, 
 
 Reclining on a massive slab of stone, 
 
 A dog. He seemed in size quite lion-like 
 
 And yet as lean as any winter wolf — 
 
 And just beyond the hedge I saw a man 
 
 At work upon his broken cottage roof. 
 
 Said I, *'Good man, why does this dog lie here 
 
 Upon this slab of stone?" *'Oh, that," said he. 
 
 Was once the door-stone to a home like this ; 
 
 And when the battle raged not far away 
 
 A shell came hurtling through the air 
 
 And tore it all to bits and burned it up; 
 
 And killed the inmates all, — except a girl 
 
 Of sixteen years of age (and this brave dog). 
 
 Who at the time was in the village there 
 
 Delivering the milk, for it was then 
 
 The evening hour, as it is now. When they 
 
 Returned the girl went mad, and he lay down 
 
 Upon that stone, his usual place, and though 
 
 We call and call he will not come away. 
 
 And though we place him food he will not eat. 
 
 But at the usual hour he stands beside 
 
 His cart in which he used to haul the milk 
 
 And looks about expectantly, and then 
 
 Returns to guard the spot that once was home. 
 
Thirty-eight The Dream 
 
 Sometimes he will arise and wag his tail 
 As if he saw a friend, and march around 
 The yard, from place to place, as once he did. 
 Preceded by his master. Then again 
 He stands beside that old armchair you see 
 Within that shady arbor at the rear 
 And rests his head upon the arm thereof 
 And wags his tail, as if he yet could see 
 The grandame who was wont to sit 
 And do her knitting there ; again he stands 
 And looks up in the air and cries like one 
 Bereft, at something rve can never see.** 
 
 ■*— 
 
 *'How many lived within that cot?*' said I. 
 *'The father, mother, grandame and two girls; 
 The eldest girl whom I said lost her mind. 
 Also a winsome little girl of five." 
 *' *Tis passing strange about the dog,** said I. 
 ** 'Tis strange," said he; *'and when I contem- 
 plate 
 The character of dogs, their faithfulness. 
 Integrity, and care, I sometimes think 
 
The Dream Thirty -nine 
 
 The great Creator made a sad mistake 
 
 And gave the hearts he made for men to dogs. 
 
 And those he made for dogs he gave to men ; 
 
 Especially am I convinced of this 
 
 When I consider kings who made the wars." 
 
 'Twas almost night, the man had quit his work. 
 
 And we were standing by his cottage gate. 
 
 "Come in and sup and bide with us the night,*' 
 
 Said he; "such as we have you're welcome to.'* 
 
 Tlie frugal meal was soon dispatched, and I, 
 
 While seated there upon a peasant's chair. 
 
 Was trying hard to reconcile myself 
 
 To my new role in life, — the peasant life — 
 
 When there before me stood the "God of Strife,'* 
 
 Red carnage ; there he stood and no mistake ; 
 
 And then I knew I must be on my way ; 
 
 So, rising and removing from my hand 
 
 A signet ring, I said unto my host, 
 
 "My friend, I wish to leave with you this ring 
 
 In payment for your kindness unto me. 
 
 And should you be oppressed or in distress 
 
 Display this ring, and stand erect, your hands 
 
 Outstretched and clasping in the air as if 
 
 Your object was to gather all the world 
 
 In your embrace ; turning your body round 
 
 The while, and let your gaze fall far afield ; 
 
Forty The Dream 
 
 My people all will understand the sign 
 And recognize the ring, and give you aid.*' 
 At which he said, "Do you go forth alone?'* 
 And then I knew that Carnage was unseen 
 By every mortal eye except my own. 
 And I said, "No, I will have company.** 
 When I turned to go. Carnage faded through 
 The door, it being shut, and disappeared. 
 And then I knew just how he had come in. 
 
 And when at last I stood outside the door 
 My host arose, and, lifting both his hands. 
 Invoked a blessing from on high. He said, 
 "Oh, Lord, vouchsafe a blessing on the head 
 Of this poor peasant man and go with him 
 And guard him well upon his journey home. 
 And bide with him in peace forever there." 
 
 Outside the gate my guide was waiting me. 
 And, like the night before, we marched along. 
 Through many ruined villages we passed. 
 The blackened, broken walls of which revealed 
 
The Dream Foriy-one 
 
 The ravages of war. No sound was heard; 
 
 No h'ghts appeared ; a stillness as of death 
 
 Hung over ail. And yet when Carnage made 
 
 A light we saw pale, ghostlike faces at 
 
 The broken basement windows attracted by 
 
 Our light ; gaunt and hungry, and frightened, too. 
 
 As if they feared the enemy's return. 
 
 We came at length unto a river bank. 
 
 Where Carnage made a light, and I could see 
 
 Dead bodies floating on the tide. Said I, 
 
 *'What place is this?" and then he made reply, 
 
 "This was a land of peace and plenty once — 
 
 The very garden spot of all the world. 
 
 For many generations this fair land 
 
 Had never been at war, or had a foe 
 
 And all the other nations signed a bond 
 
 And made decree that this land should be free 
 
 From molestation and be neutral ground. 
 
 And so these simple minded farmer folk, 
 
 Trusting all, went forth each day to labor 
 
 In their fields and gardens fair, and live in peace. 
 
 Forgetting that the world is full of hate. 
 
 Ambition, jealousy, avarice and pride — 
 
 Forgetting, too, that kings are arbiters 
 
 And rule by rights divine. A king is one 
 
 Who has the right divine to lie, and lie ; 
 
Forty -two The Dream 
 
 To lie with tongue and lie with pen at will. 
 And kill the men who murmur at his power. 
 
 **Come, now,'* said he; "a little farther down 
 
 And I will show you something strange indeed. 
 
 We're nearing now the ocean, where the tides 
 
 Wash back the sands and form somewhat of bars 
 
 Across this river bed. At one of these 
 
 A bridge unique is formed, which you must cross. 
 
 He thrust his staff into the ground and there 
 
 Appeared a veritable bridge of men ; 
 
 Dead soldiers lying stranded on the bar. 
 
 "Take off your shoes," he said, and I obeyed. 
 
 *'Upon that little island over there. 
 
 You'll find a pit where once a battery 
 
 Was planted. Within this pit you may secrete 
 
 Yourself and watch the slaughter of tomorrow. 
 
 For this is very near the firing line." 
 
 And now that gruesome sight remains with me — 
 That bridge of dead men lying side by side — 
 And I can yet recall the guilt and shame 
 
The Dream Forty-three 
 
 And horror of it all, as I, their king. 
 With naked feet walked on their prostrate forms. 
 And when at last I stood beside the pit 
 Red Carnage stood beside me with his light. 
 "You may descend by those stone steps," he said. 
 On looking down I saw the forms of men 
 In uniform. "Why should I here remain 
 Among the dead, and in this awful place?" 
 "For two good reasons, or so they seem to me. 
 The first, that you may see how men are killed — 
 How quickly they do barter life for death. 
 And with what seeming cheerfulness at that. 
 They ride with lances set, or sabres drawn. 
 And sing and shout 'Hurrah !' like boys at play. 
 One moment they seem filled with life and 
 
 strength ; 
 The next, they and their horses are quite dead. 
 And piled in heaps for some one to inter. 
 The second and more cogent reason is 
 That you may meditate upon your life that's past. 
 And also on your life to come. This spot 
 Is truly fit for meditative thought ; 
 And you have need of thought, in retrospect 
 At least. Your reign as king is now almost 
 Expired, and you must reparation make. 
 In part at least for errors in the past. 
 
Forty-four The Dream 
 
 For, although you should live a thousand years 
 And do some noble deed each day and hour. 
 You could no more than balance the account. 
 Your people, when this war is at an end. 
 Will ask you for your sceptre and your crown. 
 And my advice to you is to forestall 
 Them by the abdication of your throne. 
 Call all your armies home and sue for peace, — 
 And this from me who loves to see blood flow. 
 Fresh blood to me is sweeter than pure wine. 
 But I am weary off it all ; my thirst 
 Is satisfied, and I am sic^ at heart.** 
 
 A flash and he was gone, and there I sat 
 
 In lonely silence waiting for the dawn. 
 
 A dim, deceptive light cast by the stars 
 
 Into this dismal place made dead men move. 
 
 Or seem to move, and then I heard a voice. 
 
 "Oh, King, (for thou art yet a king, indeed. 
 
 Despite thy peasant garb) attention give 
 
 While we relate the horrors you excite. 
 
 You may have seen the blood stained rivers flow ; 
 
 ^'ou may have seen dead soldiers piled in heaps ; 
 
 And ships destroyed and sailors drowned like rats ; 
 
The Dream Forty-five 
 
 And yet the real horror of your act 
 
 In bringing on this wanton holocaust. 
 
 This wholesale murder you define as war. 
 
 Is not observed upon the field of strife. 
 
 Nor on the sea, for dead men suffer not. 
 
 The suffering is all left in the wake 
 
 Of war, the innocent and helpless ones ; 
 
 The aged ones, the cripples, and the babes 
 
 Who starve because protectors are killed off. 
 
 If you could only go with us and see 
 
 The pallid, wasted faces of the dead. 
 
 Who simply starve to death for want of bread ; 
 
 And see a wailing infant try to draw 
 
 Life's sustenance from its dead mother's breast. 
 
 Then you could better judge of the effects 
 
 Of this foul strife you designate as war. 
 
 "Who speaks," said I, and then the answer came: 
 
 "I am called 'Avatar,' because I know 
 
 The art whereby we may hold intercourse 
 
 With those who yet remain upon the earth. 
 
 I read the thoughts of angels on this side 
 
 And put them into words for mortal ears. 
 
 We have no words ; there's no concealment here. 
 
 On earth we know that words are often used 
 
 By diplomats, more to conceal their thoughts 
 
 Than to reveal them. I was speaking for 
 
Forty-six The Dream 
 
 A friend of yours just now, who knew you well^ — 
 A friend who knew and loved you long ago, 
 Before ambition ossified your heart. 
 And love of fame had calcified your soul. 
 "Who is this angel friend of mine?" I asked, 
 *'We have new names upon this side," he said, 
 *'And we forget and often make mistakes. 
 But if you will but look steadfastly at 
 The wall in front of you, I will portray 
 Your friend, if I can so control the light." 
 At first there came upon the wall a pale 
 Gray, misty light, which grew intensely white. 
 In which appeared a form and face I knew 
 Despite the lapse of years. The sweet blue eyes. 
 The wealth of flaxen hair, and rose-bud mouth 
 Revealed to me a playmate of my youth. 
 " 'Tis Gretchen," then said I; and while I gazed 
 The light began to fade and soon was gone. 
 "My God!" said I; "are we so close to heaven?" 
 " 'Tis but a step," said Avatar; "and yet 
 Sometimes that step is very hard to take. 
 The angel you call 'Gretchen' we call 'Peace,* 
 Or 'Saint Pacifico,' which means the same. 
 Together with three other saints as fair 
 She watches over you with constant care. 
 No matter how you go, or when, or where. 
 
The Dream Forty-seven 
 
 One or more of them are certain to be there ; 
 Therefore, be careful where you walk. Goodbye." 
 
 I now could see the first gray glint of dawn. 
 And all at once the guns began to roar 
 In testimony that the strife was on 
 Again, and I resolved to go straight home. 
 If I, by any means, could find my way. 
 And stop, if possible, this holocaust. 
 
 Advancing to the river I beheld 
 That gruesome sight — that bridge of men — 
 My heart misgave me, and I said I'd swim; 
 So in I plunged and struck out fairly well ; 
 Yet I had not gone very far before 
 I noticed that my body came in touch 
 With other forms, and then I realized 
 That I was swimming there among the dead. 
 Who lay beneath the surface out of sight. 
 And that my feet and legs were being held. 
 And that my strength was giving out ; and then 
 My head went imder, and I heard the roar 
 
Forty-eight The Dream 
 
 Of cannon less distinctly than before. 
 
 I knew that I was sinking, but swam on ; 
 
 And just as I was giving up the fight. 
 
 And when my lungs seemed bursting for a breath 
 
 My feet struck land, and I was soon upon 
 
 The beach, face down, exhausted and half dead. 
 
 When I regained my breath I stood erect 
 
 And there before me in a garb of black. 
 
 With sad and gloomy face, a man appeared. 
 
 The lines of sorrow in his face were deep. 
 
 His long, black cloak, his arms crossed on his 
 
 breast. 
 And sad, far-seeing eyes made him appear 
 So strange and grand. Said I, "Who honors me?'* 
 Then he replied, "They called me 'Prince of 
 
 Woe' 
 When I was on the earth long, long ago. 
 "A man of many sorrows, and indeed 
 I have my cares. Come now with me," he said. 
 Said I, "Please wait; I left a pair of shoes 
 Just here somewhere, — a pair of sacred shoes 
 A peasant woman gave me yesterday." 
 *'You will not need your shoes henceforth," he 
 
 said. 
 "Your journey now will be upon a road 
 So beaten down by many thousand feet 
 
The Dream Forty-nine 
 
 And worn so smooth by travelers each day 
 That shoes would be a superfluity." 
 "But can I not by some means dry my clothes?** 
 Said I, in desperation and despair. 
 "Your raiment will become so bothersome 
 And dry and hot, unless by frequent baths 
 You moisten it, that you will cease to take 
 Much care concerning it, and cast it off 
 When once you are within that special place 
 Which I have had prepared for you," he said. 
 "Are we so near to Hades, sir?" I said. 
 "You are in Hades even now," said he; 
 "Since when you looked upon that pictured wall 
 And saw that angel face, and knew yourself 
 To be the cruel monster that you are. 
 And penitence sought refuge in your soul; 
 And since your heart is burdened with remorse, 
 You have been in Hades all the while. 
 Hell has no torture greater than remorse. 
 But, come," he said ; "we must be on our way ; 
 The walk is only just a pleasant one, 
 TTie grade, you will observe, is always down. 
 'Tis easy to descend, but hard to climb.'* 
 And then I saw the road was filled with forms — 
 With astral forms of men and women both. 
 Some danced along with ribald song, as though 
 
Fifty The Dream 
 
 They were upon some day of pleasure bent. 
 While others, with a stolid mien, walked on 
 In silence down the way, as if to say, 
 *'What do I care; 'tis all the same to me." 
 Yet others, with a leer from ear to ear 
 Intended for a smile, friends to beguile 
 (Resembling more the steel jaws of a trap). 
 With jaunty tread and tossing head went by. 
 And yet another class with furtive glance 
 Slipped past, with eyes as keen as any fox. 
 And savage, bestial faces with a scowl ; 
 Licentious faces, brutalized with lust. 
 And yet, in not one face could I discern 
 The slightest shade of sorrow or remorse. 
 And then said I, **Where do these people go?'* 
 Said he, "Unto their places down below." 
 **But why are they not sorrowful or sad? — 
 They seem to act as natural as life." 
 And then he said, "Transition changes naught. 
 As they were there on earth so are they here. 
 Without repentance they can never change. 
 The truly penitent come not this way. 
 But they are met upon this side by those 
 Who guide them to a higher plane at once. 
 These, too, may at some future time be helped ; 
 But they must their allotted time remain 
 
The Dream Fifiy-one 
 
 In darkness and despair ; it is the law — 
 
 The law of compensation still obtains, 
 
 And evolution is the only law 
 
 By which to work reform in any life. 
 
 And now we came unto a massive wall. 
 
 In which were many doors, and over each 
 
 A name of some celebrity was carved. 
 
 The first, **Caligula;" then "Nero" came; 
 
 Then "Hannibal," "Alexander, the Great," 
 
 "Phillip, the Fair," and "Philip Second of 
 
 Spain ; 
 And lastly but not least, "Napoleon's" home. 
 And then we paused before a door unmarked. 
 Which opened at his lightest touch. "Walk in," 
 Said he. "This is your place ; your name shall be 
 Inscribed above the door, should you remain." 
 "Remain," said I; "why should I remain?" 
 "For penance sake; your sins have brought you 
 
 here, 
 And your transgressions are the crimson kind. 
 And must be cleansed with blood." "Sit down," 
 
 said he, 
 "And I will straightway have your bath pre- 
 pared." 
 "My God," said I; "is this the doom of kings?" 
 "For jealous and ambitious kings," said he. 
 
Fifty -two The Dream 
 
 And then I sat before a marble tank 
 Down into which a set of marble steps 
 Descended; a mighty King in Hades. 
 
 Hie room was long and narrow, and the light, 
 A deep red glow, came from the distant end ; 
 From where I sat, and by its aid I saw 
 An army of red imps with pails of blood 
 Come in and pour the liquid in the tank — 
 
 First Imp: 
 
 "Oh, King! I bring you here the blood 
 
 Of soldiers brave and true, 
 Who bravely in the front ranks stood 
 
 And fought and died for you." 
 
 Second Imp : 
 
 "I bring you here the blood of men, 
 
 Of German sailors true. 
 Who bravely fought and died, and then 
 
 We brought their blood to you." 
 
 Third Imp : 
 
 "Here is the blood of an Englishman, 
 As red as roast beef rare ; 
 
The Dream Fifty -three 
 
 Who said I'll do the best I can 
 If the fight is fair and square.** 
 
 Fourth Imp: 
 
 *'A Scotchman's blood I bring to you. 
 
 Who marched to his pipes so dear ; 
 It is so true, 'tis a trifle blue. 
 
 But 'tis good blood, never fear.** 
 
 Fijlh Imp: 
 
 "I bring you now some Irish blood 
 
 From Tip'rary far away. 
 Where wrangling is both drink and food 
 And fighting is but play." 
 
 Sixth Imp : 
 
 "Some pure French blood I bring you here. 
 
 Which flows as quick as wine. 
 'Twas shed to shield their homes so dear ; 
 
 I'm sure you'll think it fine." 
 
 Seventh Imp : 
 
 "Here is blood from a Hindoo sent. 
 Though 'twas obtained unfair — 
 Shot at sunrise in front of his tent. 
 While on his knees in prayer. 
 
Fifty-four The Dream 
 
 Eighth Imp : 
 
 "Some blood from the land where cold 
 winds blow 
 Drawn from a Canadian's veins — 
 *Tis pure and clean as the winter's snow 
 That covers Albert's plains." 
 
 Ninth Imp : 
 
 "Some Russian blood I bring from the East. 
 
 'Tis strong and if it hath 
 No other merit, it will at least 
 
 Add strength unto your bath." 
 
 Tenth Imp : 
 
 "Here is the blood of a lustful Turk, 
 
 So treacherous and black. 
 We bring it to show we did not shirk 
 And the mixture might not lack." 
 
 Eleventh Imp: 
 
 "Some Austrian blood I pour herein; 
 
 You see it is thin and light ; 
 'Tis just such blood that wars begin. 
 
 Then stand back to see the fight." 
 
The Dream Fifiy-five 
 
 Twelfth Imp: 
 
 "Here is some Servian blood I bring. 
 
 Of patriots brave and grand ; 
 They stayed the hand of a grasping King 
 
 Who coveted their land." 
 
 Thirteenth Imp: 
 
 "Here is some innocent Belgian blood, 
 
 To sweeten this bath so rare. 
 Spare not its use — their land's aflood 
 With innocent, inoffensive blood — 
 
 There's plenty more to spare." 
 
 And now the "Man of many sorrows" came. 
 And said to me, "Your bath is now prepared; 
 Here will you bathe, and after every bath 
 A drop of pure water will be added — 
 Therefore, in time you will be purified; 
 Your bed will be upon the bayonets 
 With which the place is strewn; and now good- 
 bye." 
 
 At last alone I sat, a peasant king. 
 Confronted by my bath, — a gruesome thing — 
 Where I must bathe and bathe ten thousand years 
 To expiate my sins ; and now my tears 
 
Fifiy-six The Dream 
 
 Began to flow — repentance was complete — 
 And, kneeling down, I sought relief in prayer ; 
 And while I asked Almighty God to send 
 Deliverance, I felt an icy breath 
 Of air upon my neck and cheek ; 
 And looking up I saw three angel forms ; 
 Their raiment was as brilliant as the sun ; 
 Their smiling faces seemed direct from heaven. 
 Their presence lighted up the dismal place. 
 And so astonished me I could not speak. 
 They, seeing my embarrassment, began — 
 
 First Angel: 
 
 "The man of many sorrows heard your 
 
 prayer. 
 And sent us to administer to you. 
 My name is Penitence ; my duties are 
 To see that all repentance is sincere. 
 To pass upon petitions, and to see 
 If they are from the head and not the heart. 
 Or if they truly flow from heart and soul. 
 Then I may justify the suppliant. 
 
 Second Angel: 
 
 My name is Justice, and my duties are 
 
 To look into the penitential heart 
 
 And ascertain how much of hate remains — 
 
The Dream Fifty-seven 
 
 Or vanity, or love of self, or pride; 
 
 Or jealousy, or avarice, or spite ; 
 
 And should I find that none of these appear. 
 
 Then I must count the virtues that I find. 
 
 If I should find humility and love 
 
 Of neighbors, and respect of others' rights 
 
 As equal to his own, and a desire 
 
 To make full restitution for all wrongs. 
 
 And restoration of all gains by force. 
 
 Then I must let him pass, not otherwise.** 
 
 Third Angel: 
 
 "My name is Mercy, and my duties are 
 To look into the soul of every man 
 Who supplicates Almighty God in prayer, 
 And see how much sincerity is there ; 
 And ascertain the motive or intent 
 Which prompts his every act, both good 
 
 and bad — 
 For good may sometimes come where wrong 
 
 is meant. 
 And error often fetters good intent. 
 And wordy supplications without love 
 Are wasted words; they are not heard 
 
 above. 
 
Fifiy-eighi The Dream 
 
 But secret prayer, if on contrition fed. 
 
 Is heard on high before the words are said." 
 
 Another flash of Hght and there appeared 
 Dear Saint Pacifico ; whom I revered. 
 With sweet forgiving pity in her face. 
 And thus began the pleading of my case'* — 
 
 Saint Pacifico : 
 
 **l\e known this penitent from early youth 
 And all his acts, and all his pride, forsooth : 
 His pride was in his country, not himself; 
 His acts were all for honor, not for pelf. 
 And though he seems to act a brutal part 
 His sins are of the head, not of the heart. 
 Could you but understand his full intent 
 And know the power of his environment. 
 And know the school in which his every thought 
 Was trained for war. Tlie school in which 
 
 was wrought 
 This scheme of subjugation of the world. 
 Your mercy would incite you to withhold 
 Your censure till the truth was known. 
 And take him back and place him on his 
 
 throne.** 
 
The Dream Fifiy-nine 
 
 And so they bound me with their silken scarfs 
 And took me home, and placed me on my throne. 
 Where I awoke to find myself alone. 
 In sad bewilderment, and yet as one 
 Who finds sweet joy in power to atone. 
 
Sixty Epilogue 
 
 EPILOGUE 
 
 His first act was to call his army home ; 
 
 And then he called his rulers unto him — 
 
 His war-lords and his princes — then he said, 
 
 "Make thou a constitution and a law 
 
 That will give every man an equal right 
 
 To life and liberty ; give him the right 
 
 To worship God in any sacred way 
 
 His soul dictates, no matter what his creed. 
 
 Make thou the right of franchise universal. 
 
 And guard with care the sacred rights of home. 
 
 For I have made a sacred, solemn vow 
 
 To make what restitution that I may. 
 
 And to restore so far as in my power lies. 
 
 To every one who suffered by my acts ; 
 
 An equal compensation for his loss. 
 
 And I hereby a proclamation make 
 
 And ask for peace, not supplicate, but dare . 
 
 My people are not vanquished, nor can they be; 
 
 But I am weary of this slaughter in 
 
 A brother's cause who drove me into it. 
 
Epilogue Sixty-one 
 
 And if any ruler of any land 
 Has bravery enough to abdicate 
 His throne, and let his people rule the land. 
 Let him come forth and take me by the hand, 
 For here and now I lay my power down 
 And tender you my sceptre and my crown. 
 To all the hosts of heaven proclaim it now 
 TTiat they may know how well I kept my vow. 
 
Sixty-iwo Conclusion 
 
 CONCLUSION 
 
 And one by one the crowned heads followed 
 suit, and laid their crown and sceptre at the feet 
 of their people, and bade them rule themselves by 
 constitution and by law, and that is why we have 
 at The Hague a Congress or Parliament in con- 
 stant Session, whereat all nations are represented, 
 and whereat all differences, be they political, com- 
 mercial or theological, which baffle diplomacy, 
 may be settled by a high court of justice, or by 
 arbitration, without war or bloodshed, and where- 
 at international laws are enacted for the govern- 
 ment and protection of commerce, both on land 
 and sea; and a universal system of weights and 
 measures; a universal monetary system which 
 makes one nation's money good and at par with 
 all other nations; an international police force 
 controlling munitions of war on land and sea, and 
 who are empowered and commanded to keep the 
 peace in every land, that we may turn our atten- 
 tion to the constructive principles of life and 
 thereby complete the federation of the world. 
 
Finale Sixty -three 
 
 FINALE 
 
 If you should ask me if I thought a dream 
 Could make the nations hesitate or pause, 
 I'd say, "You'll find, if you pursue the theme, 
 'Twas instigated by that selfsame cause.