The Little Flag on lin Street M- Landburgh Wilson PS 3545 1. 16358 L7 1 1917 Copy 1 Class /-^ • -"^ Copyright N^_ CORfRIGHT DEPOSIT, n< THE LITTLE FLAG ON MALM STREET > 9 ■ o * THE MACMILLAN COMPANY NEW YORK • BOSTON • CHICAGO • DALLAS ATLANTA • SAN FRANCISCO MACMILLAN & CO., Limited LONDON . BOMBAY • CALCUTTA MKLBOURNB THE AUCMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, Ltd. TORONTO THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET BY McLANDBURGH WILSON THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 1917 ±U rights rettrved ^ Cofyrieht, 1917, hy Life Puhlishine Company Copyright, 1917 By the MACMILLAN COMPANY Sot up and electrotyped. Published, October, 1917. NOV -i 1917 ' .^ ©CLA47C877 ^^ TO UNCLE SAM AND HIS ALLIES The author is indebted to the following publications for permission to reprint poems first appearing in their pages: Life Pub- lishing Company, Judge, The New York Sun, The New York Times, Ainslee's Maga- zine, The Bookman, London. CONTENTS chapter page The Little Flag on Main Street .... 1 Made Safe for Democracy 3 The Trees of France 5 Where Do You Live? 7 The Foreign Born 9 The Case of Jim 10 Nemesis 12 The Conquering Blade 14 The National Army 15 The Superman 17 Heroes 18 The Little Towns Serene 19 Out There 21 The Butterfly 23 The Compleat Letter Writer 24 The Important Matter 26 He Dons the Khaki and Away 27 The Outrage of the Sea 28 The Cheated 29 When the War Will End 30 Granddaddy Dollar 32 The Foolish Deer 34 At the Gate 35 Belgium 37 The Shuttles of the Sea 39 The Windows of Heaven 41 CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE A Round Trip 42 Private Day 43 The Little Cotton Flag 44 The Dead Peace 46 If There Be Flames 47 France 48 Her Soldier 49 The Rainbow Division 51 The Soap Box Protests 52 The Song of the Forty-eight 54 The Battle Horses 55 The Youth That Dies 57 Ancona 59 Recruiting Sergeant Mother 61 The Map o' the Heart 62 Smokes for the Soldier 64 Birnam Wood 66 Who Willed the War to Be 67 Edith Cavell 68 The Patriots 70 Where the Flag Shows 72 The Test Ship 73 Looking for Daddy 75 Liberty's Dynamo 77 The Angels of Conscript 78 A Flag for Russia 80 The Lights Are Out 82 Soldiers 84 Things You Can Do for the Country ... 85 Uncle Sam's Dyes 86 The Worship of the Kings 88 The Flag 90 The House of God 92 CONTENTS chapter page Hushaby 93 The Mettle of a Man 95 Seeing the Guard Off 96 The Children of the Brave 98 The Green Blades 100 Gifts for Uncle Sam 102 The Soldier 104 My Brother Died 105 Easter 1917 107 Ears to Hear 109 The Liberty Baby Bonds Ill When Johnny Goes Marching Off . . . .113 Three Grains of Corn 115 Khaki 116 Nature's Way 117 What Is Wanted on the German Throne . .118 The Service Flags 119 Moving Time 120 Helping Washington 122 Company for Dinner 123 Speeding the Soldier 124 What Does It Profit a Man? 126 Footsteps on the Sea 127 Realization 128 The Butcher of Belgium 129 Rheims Cathedral 131 The Army of Thoughts 133 The Sinews of War 135 The Substitute Life 130 You 138 THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET The little flag on Main Street Is floating all the day, Its stars are fairly sparkling, Its stripes are glad and gay. It stops the passing zephyrs To tell them as they dance : "I have a battle brother Who flies today in France!" The little flag on Main Street Is streaming all the night, It hails the wheeling planets Upon their glowing flight. [1] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET It tells the joyful tidings And calls to all its kin: "I have a battle brother Who marches to Berlin!" [2] MADE SAFE FOR DEMOCRACY "Made safe for democracy" seems mighty fine, But high-soundin' politics ain't in our line. 'Tain't that made us chuck up our jobs and enlist For givin' the Kaiser the taste of a fist, But this is the notion stowed under our lids: We're makin' it safe for the Missus and kids. They've taken the men folks and used 'em for slaves, They've driven the women to worse than their graves, They've taken the babies and cut off their hands [3] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET And murdered the bravest and peacefullest lands, And this is the notion tucked under our lids : It's somebody's Missus and somebody's kids. We ain't any better — it might have been us And that's why we're doin' our bit in the fuss, We don't know the rules of the high-soundin' game. Perhaps in the end it all comes to the same, But this is the notion stowed under our lids : We're makin' it safe for the Missus and kids. [4] THE TREES OF FRANCE Hush, little leaves, your springtime dance, Sigh for the murdered trees of France. Rooted deep were their sturdy forms. Joying both in the sun and storms. Friends were they of the peasant folk. Friends whom the birds and kine bespoke. Ever they gave, while slow years wheeled, Shade and shelter and fruitful yield. Spoil are they of destroying lust, Not of the battle stroke and thrust. Prone they lie on the Hun's black path, Done to death by his thwarted wrath. [5] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET They are a garden still to see, They are the world's Gethsemane. Hush, little leaves, your springtime dance, Sigh for the murdered trees of France. [6] WHERE DO YOU LIVE? "Where do you live?" says the War God grim, "Is your life in your loving heart? Then I can slay whom you hold most dear And strike in your vital part." "Where do you live?" says the War God grim, "Is your life in your belly fat? Then I can starve till you cry aloud And harry you sore thereat." "Where do you live?" says the War God grim, "Is your life in your vaunted brain? Then when your theories come to naught I prove that your boast is vain." [7] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAiy STREET "Where do you live?" says the War God grim, "Is your life in your dauntless soul? Then are my terrible weapons dulled — I pass and must leave you whole." [8] THE FOREIGN BORN \^lio are the foreign bom? Not those Whose pulses to Old Glory thrill, Who would protect it with their blows From insult of a tyrant's will. What though dieir bodies sprang from earth Upon a strange and distant strand, Tis here their spirits found their birth, And they are natives in the land. \^'ho are the native bom? Not those Who falter in the Flag's defence. Who would not die against its foes And count the joy a recompense. Whait though the ancestry they scom Runs backward to the Pilgrim band? Their spirits have been elsewhere bom And they are aliens in the land. [9] THE CASE OF JIM Ma's a-callin' from the milkhouse, Callin' stem: "Jim, yer lazy good fer nuthin', Come and chum." Pa's a-callin' from the cornpatch, Callin' loud: ''James, yer hulkin' stupid loafer. Time yer ploughed." Woods are callin' from the trout brook; "Hear the stream? "Son, yer poor tired lazy feller, Come and dream." [10] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET France is callin' from the battle Day and night: "Man, come here and join your brothers, Come and fight!" Stranger, if we just swapped places, Put it clear, Which of all the four a-callin' Would you hear? [11] NEMESIS He married her because she cooked Such steak as heart could wish, But now without a protest brooked She sternly feeds him fish. Ram it down! Cram it down! Damn it down! She feeds him fish! He spliced with her because she made Light biscuits every morn, But now as patriotic aid She grimly feeds him com. Poke it down I Choke it down! Stoke it down ! She feeds him com! [12] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET He wedded her because he sighed For grub like other chaps, But now he finds his dream denied, She darkly feeds him scraps. Rush it down! Crush it down! Sqush it down! She feeds him scraps! [13] THE COXQUERIXG BLADE Said the Plough to the Sword: "I must turn into you, Till the Hun and his horde For our mercy shall sue." Said the Sword to the Plough: '*I must turn into you, For the battles hang now On what hanests may do." So die Sword and the Plough Are become as one blade, That the tyrant may bow And the Furrow be made. [14] THE NATIO-V\L AR.MY America has come into her o^vti. \ow when she needs defenders for her breast, Now when she craves a sword for the op- pressed She need not beg to make her peril known. Her bugle blast through all the world has blown And ever}- wind, north, south and east and west Has caught the summons, carried her behest. Till ever}- ear has heard the trumpet tone. She waits no more on head or heart or hand, She waits no more in supplication bowed For those whom her necessity must use; [15] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET The millions throng today at her command Bringing all gifts with which they are endowed ; Serene, she sits in majesty to choose! [16] THE SUPERMAN His vessels in the harbours lie, Strong hulks by eager waters lapped, Yet all within their engine rooms Is scrapped. His treaties lie for men to view. High thoughts in lofty language wrapped. But all within the heart of them Is scrapped. And he himself has mighty thews, A form that seems of strength unsapped. But all within the mind of him Is scrapped. [17] HEROES Ready with his eager life Enemies to quell, Giving all for Uncle Sam, Facing shot and shell. Bound to march on any foe Though the road be rough, Cheer for Johnny Leg-away, Made of hero stuff! Yet remember while you thrill To the tramping feet. In the breasts of stay-at-homes Soldier hearts may beat. Battles of the commonplace Rage the struggle through. Cheer for Johnny Peg-away, He's a hero too! [18] THE LITTLE TOWNS SERENE In the little town serene Changed is each familiar scene. In her borders overnight The cantonment springs to sight. In a twinkling of amaze Overturned are rooted ways. She whose sons sought larger scope Sudden swarms with youthful hope. She who once was all in all Suddenly becomes too small. [19] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET This is the transforming part Wrought by darlings of her heart. God! What change the Hun must mean To the little towns serene! [20] OUT THERE Out there, the flame swept trenches. Back here, the smiling field; Out there, the battle harvest, Back here, the fruitful yield. Oh, you who dwell securely With all that life can give. Remember those for ever Who died that you might live. Out there, the crowded moment, Back here, the tears and fears; Out there, the great adventure. Back here, the empty years. [21] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Oh, you who are immortal, Remember from on high The weary ones remaining Who lived that you might die. [22] THE BUTTERFLY We thought she was a butterfly, An empty-headed fool Who sought the gay frivolities When sterner aims should rule. She craved the honey from the bloom And never sipped the gall, The meaning of the tragedies She never knew at all. But now her son is khaki clad — Of unimagined things, How strange to think a butterfly Should give an eagle wings. [23] THE COMPLEAT LETTER WRITER Willy, just as he was starting On his orgy, Quite by way of pleasant parting, Wrote to Georgia. Furthering his bloody passion, Dark and tricky, Willy in his friendly fashion Wrote to Nicky. Striving that he might be counted Goody-goody, Willy as his ardour mounted Wrote to Woody. [24] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Meanwhile, tracing words to linger Dread and stilly, On the wall the Unseen Finger Wrote to Willy. [25] THE IMPORTANT MATTER Dame Nature worked in her shop with care To fashion a flower wondrous fair, She made it perfect in shapeliness And robed it rich as a monarch's dress. "Nay, Mother," I cried, "why toil to speed A fragile beauty that none shall heed? For thrones are crashing and nations slay And dead men carpet the earth today." The Dame paused not at her task, but said : "Now what to me are your wars and dead? My plans were made an eon ago That this identical bud should blow." [26] HE DONS THE KHAKI AND AWAY He dons the khaki and away, He is a man, a youth no more; Old memories arise to say I somehow lived this day before. Thus babyhood was left behind With the first sturdy step he took. And, not long since, I call to mind The day when boyhood he forsook. So I take comfort in the past, The future brightens in its ray; Each change is richer than the last — He dons the khaki and away! [27] THE OUTRAGE OF THE SEA Where is thine ancient majesty, oh sea, Thy might untamed? What bitter bondage hath been laid on thee? How art thou shamed? Thy rolling deep, that once rocked only dead Of storm and wave. Now holds the murdered whom the Hun has sped Unto the grave. And were that not enough thy pride to bow Before all lands, Thou art the basin wherein Pilate now Doth wash his hands. [28] THE CHEATED A dirge for those who fall Before they meet the foe, Who have no chance at all To deal them blow for blow. Their crimson sacrifice Devotion's measure fills, Yet fate to them denies Reward of battle thrill. So weep beside their pall That death has willed it so; A dirge for those who fall Before they meet the foe. [29] WHEN THE WAR WILL END The war will end, they blithely sing, Next fall, next winter or next spring. As though the forces thus unpent Could in so brief a time be spent, As though it marks not all who strive And all who witness — all alive. And sets its seal upon the mom Of generations yet unborn. Nay, when ten thousand years have fled And all forgotten are the dead. If one who passed in battle hate Still holds that thought beyond the Gate, [30] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Still holds that lust beyond the dawn, The war will still be raging on. The war will end, they blithely sing, Next fall, next winter or next spring. [31] GRANDDADDY DOLLAR Granddaddy Soldier is plumb full of fight, Wants to lick Germany clear out of sight, Fire in his bosom but snow on his locks, Wratliful is he that the age limit mocks. Granddaddy Workman is brimful of zeal, Wants to help freedom with shoulder to wheel, Railing is he at the fate that appoints, Vim in his heart but a creak in his joints. Granddaddy Dollar is chock full of joy, Says he is feeling as young as a boy, Young as the youngest of dollars is he. Strong are his sinews as any can be. [32] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Back in the sixties he pitched in the fray, Laboured for Liberty, clearing the way, Now with the youngest of soldiers and men Granddaddy Dollar is joining again. [33] THE FOOLISH DEER A foolish deer once missed his guess Because of unpreparedness. Said he, "I don't believe in such; I think they praise it overmuch. "The forest is so very wide No enemy could reach my side. "And if they did, I have my horns. A weapon no one ever scorns. "And should that fail, I have my heels; A single glance my speed reveals." Alas, the deer who proudly spake Was soon a hatrack and a steak! [34] AT THE GATE Three spirits stood at Peter's Gate Their earthly records to relate. "I was efficient," said the first, "I cared not how abhorred and cursed. By what black ways of heart and soul. It mattered not to make my goal." "I was deficient," said the next, "I never solved the problems vexed, I had no might to stay the wrong, By weakness I betrayed the strong." "I was sufficient," said the third, "I sought not to be seen nor heard, [35] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET My power broke oppression's thrall And gave protection to the small." Three spirits stood at Peter's Gate, One passed within — the others wait. [36] BELGIUM With accuracy of the stars Upon their courses whirled, The Prussian timed his bloody way To march around the world. Precisely rolled his ordered hosts Across the plain and hill, And then uprose a Joshua And bade the sun stand still. Red days and nights the German beast Was halted on his track; Red nights and days at fearful cost He held the legions back. [37] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET He turned them from the Paris gates, He stayed their hosts in France And England's soil escaped their sword, America their lance. Now if within the glass of Time The sands could backward run, What moment of them all would be Regretted of the Hun? Not those in which he cast the die To work his fiendish will, But those when Belgium uprose And made the sun stand still! [38] THE SHUTTLES OF THE SEA Columbus carried the first shining thread, A golden strand of bright discovery, And ever since the shuttles of the sea Across the ocean's vasty loom have sped. The Mayflower spun and freedom's colours spread ; The warships wove that glory's gleam might be; The merchantmen made stuff of industry, And pirate Huns wrought murder black and dread. Now are we blest of all the toiling line. Our eyes the finished fabric soon shall greet, Our generation see the perfect plan. [39] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Go forth, our ships, upon the Great Design And to the last red tracery complete The pattern of the liberty of man. [40] THE WINDOWS OF HEAVEN With faith that has never been shaken, With certainty never dismayed, The windows of Paris are taken To see the triumphal parade. But what of the hosts who have perished To bring such a glorious fame. Who sacrificed all that they cherished Too soon for the victor's acclaim? With faith that can never be broken, Perhaps, from the blue vaulted arch. The windows of heaven are spoken To witness the victory march. [41] A ROUND TRIP In swaddling clothes he came across the sea In flight from wrong, Before his eyes all vast blue mystery, Waves rolling long. And in his ears an Old World melody — His mother's song. In khaki he goes back across the sea To smite a wrong, Before his eyes the ocean majesty Outraged too long. And in his ears "My Country, 'Tis of Thee"— His mother's song. [42] PRIVATE DAY The days are the armies of Time Who win all the battles at length; A week is a corporal's guard, A month is a company's strength. A year is a regiment brave, A decade becomes a brigade, And out of a century's roll His mighty division is made. So swift is promotion attained, A private with fate in his hand, A private — a day in the ranks May spring to the highest command. [43] THE LITTLE COTTON FLAG In a narrow shaft of daylight Where its folds in darkness drag, From a tenement back window Hangs a little cotton flag. Distant far from the parading, To the sounding cheers unknown. Yet its stars are one in glory With the silken banners flown. One with those above the White House And the Capitol's great dome; One with those above the soldiers And the warships on the foam. [44] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Safe for ever is our nation And our honour shall not lag While the tenement back window Flies the little cotton flag. [45] THE DEAD PEACE Hurled from our world awry, A world of reason fled, The white Peace rides the sky A moon all cold and dead. Men think she has not sped Beyond their childish grasp And by their yearning led They stretch vain hands to clasp. We see her shine on high, Far beams on us are shed. But even while we cry The hands we stretch are red. For her our hosts have bled, Now rolls war's crimson flood; The Dead Peace overhead Still draws the tides of blood. [46] IF THERE BE FLAMES If there be flames in nether hell For those who served the devil well, The arch-assassin's pyre shall be Of driftwood gathered from the sea. The masts and spars he sent to doom Shall burn for ever in the gloom, Shall lick about his shrivelled soul While all eternity shall roll. And this shall be his agony: Strange pictures in the fire to see. Amid the flames that dance and leap Dread forms he murdered on the deep. [47] FRANCE We looked on France as an April sky Where frivolous hues are seen on high, Nor dreamed that hers are the clouds of gloom Which hold the purposeful bolts of doom. We looked on France as a sunset sky Where glorious tints are bom to die, Nor dreamed that hers are the ordered stars Which fight in their courses to win her wars. But now henceforth when we look on France Another sky shall our eyes entrance, For out of her stars and out of her storm The rainbow spanning the earth shall form. [48] HER SOLDIER He is sharp and keen for battle, 1 am dull and sore afraid, For my love would hold him safely As the scabbard holds the blade. Stainless is his shining honour, Shall it be by me betrayed? Shall I rust his manly mettle As the scabbard rusts the blade? Lest he feel my arms a prison, Lest with scorn I be repaid, I must give him to the conflict As the scabbard gives the blade. [49] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Mine to feel no thrill of warfare, Maddened charge or dashing raid; Mine to wait with empty longing As the scabbard waits the blade. For my soul shall cling beside him Through attack or ambuscade, Close, but powerless to shield him As the scabbard from the blade. [50] THE RAINBOW DIVISION In the war clouds dark It has had its birth And the Hun shall mark Where it touches earth. For his lines shall bend And his ranks shall reel; At the rainbow's end Is a pot of steel. [511 THE SOAP BOX PROTESTS I here protest against my fate And bitterly I wish to state The uselessness of living straight. I passed a life devoid of blame, The world is better for the same, Sweet cleanliness was all my aim. Then came the great indignity. Quite publicly, for all to see, A dirty traitor mounted me. Without consulting me at all, With simply monumental gall He used me for a pedestal. [52] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET He poured forth treason till I cried Because I had no soap inside To cleanse the soul within his hide. And yet despite what I am for, Despite my never-ending war, They dub him "Soap box orator." [53] THE SONG OF THE FORTY-EIGHT All you mighty suns Rolling in the sky Haven't hushed the guns, Haven't seemed to try. Hey, you Pleiades! Hey, you Milky Way! Don't you look on these Jealously today? Eight and forty stars In Old Glory's field Force the Kaiser's tars Human rights to yield. Hey, you Jupiter! Hey, you Saturn great! Doesn't envy stir For the Forty-eight? [54] THE BATTLE HORSES Once they ploughed the fruitful field, Helped the reaper gain his yield, Came to eve with sweet content. Browsing when the day was spent. Now they lie with mangled hide, Fallen in the carnage tide. What to them the sounding phrase Which explains the bloody ways? Honour, place or racial stem, Slav or Teuton, what to them? Torn and dead or death denied, Fallen in the carnage tide. Now they wage the battle hot, Plunging under shell and shot, [55] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Charging in the cannon's breath Bearing dealers of tlie deatli. Till in agony tliey bide, Fallen in the carnage tide. Theirs was not the chance to say Words of peace to save the day. They who could not hush the drum, Wliose Creator made them dumb, Yet are one with those who ride. Fallen in the carnage tide. [56] THE YOUTH THAT DIES In years to come, upon the German land Perhaps some plague shall lay an awful hand, A scourge mysterious that fills the grave And she shall cry for scientists to save. But Fate shall answer to her call forlorn: "Behold! the genius whom you crave was horn. But you shall seek for him in vain. He died, A drummer boy in Marne's red battletide." Nay, even now the State makes mortal cry For mighty minds to save her lest she die, For great hearts, tender, patient, strong and clean, [57] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET For wisdom such as earth has seldom seen. And if, despite the courage of her sons, Her glory passes in the breath of guns, May Fate not answer: "Lo, the needed man Died long ago, a stripling at Sedan!" [58] ANCONA Oh coming tide, what have you seen On rolling wastes afar, That you should break in such a moan Upon the harbour bar? "I looked upon a fiendish sight That made the angels weep ; The women and the helpless babes Foul murdered on the deep." Oh ebbing tide, where go you forth So silent, sad and stem? What is the mission you perform Before you shall return? [59] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET "I go to sing the requiem Each day I shall repeat Until we both shall yield them up Before God's judgment seat." [60] RECRUITING SERGEANT MOTHER The hour has struck for duty, To be a soldier true; Recruiting Sergeant Mother, The army looks to you! There comes a call for sailors On freedom's ocean blue; Recruiting Sergeant Mother, The navy looks to you! The sons of other mothers Go forth to guard you too; Recruiting Sergeant Mother, The nation looks to you! [61] THE MAP 0' THE HEART Old worlds are new and new worlds are old, To each Columbus are paths unrolled, By the map o' the heart. The seas are narrow and streams are wide, Mountains unite and plains divide. By the map o' the heart. The capital city of all the world Is a little town in a valley curled. By the map o' the heart. The latitude is the breadth of love, The longitude is the height above. By the map o' the heart. [62] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Through blinding desert or trackless foam. One never is lost if he but roam By the map o' the heart. [63] SMOKES FOR THE SOLDIERS When he can pull on his pipe Solace and help to evoke, When the brief moment is ripe Whom does he see in the smoke? Maybe a sweetheart or wife Left when the battle guns spoke, In his full hour of life Whom does he see in the smoke? If you have given him true, Maybe — it isn't a joke — Maybe 'twill be even you Whom he will see in the smoke. [64] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Through the blue wreaths to his glance All are a glorified folk; Sometime and somewhere in France Whom will he see in the smoke? [65] BIRNAM WOOD So, royal murderer, you thought To strew the sea with dead Till not a single prow was left To sail the pathway red. But wooden ships are building now, Stout vessels, thousands strong. With sides of oak and tall pine masts The ocean ways to throng. And terror shall besiege your heart And tell you all is vain When you shall see that Birnam Wood Has come to Dunsinane. [66] WHO WILLED THE WAR TO BE Who willed the war to be, Who called the world to slay, If he be mad, before God's throne For saneness he shall pray. Who knows what he has wrought. Who knows the bloodstained way, If he be sane, before God's throne For madness he shall pray. [67] EDITH CAVELL On law and love and mercy Was laid the German curse When to her execution Was led the British nurse. In brutal might they thought her Of help and friendship shorn; John Brown, Jeanne d'Arc, all martyrs Companioned her that mom. A harmless, tender woman, They took her to her doom; A dread, resistless spirit She rises from the tomb. [68] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Still Germany shall fear her, For since that bloody dawn Through all the earth that trembles Her soul goes marching on! [69] THE PATRIOTS The earth was thirsty — it fain would drink, A patriot watered it well with ink, For he was a critical cautious man With many a well considered plan, But out of the mud there came to pass No greening beauty, no blade of grass. The earth was thirsty — the drouth of years, A patriot watered it well with tears; A good man he, with a tender heart, Who knew not war was a needful part. But out of the sodden soil there grew But rosemary sad and grieving rue. The earth was thirsty — it craved a flood, A patriot watered it well with blood, [70] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET The blood of valorous clear-eyed youth Who died for honour and Flag and truth, And laurel sprang from the crimsoned sod And lilies of peace grew up to God. [71] WHERE THE FLAG SHOWS There's a certain sort of glory- That is throbbing in the street; You can read the battle story In the faces that you meet. They have hung the colours gleaming From their offices and homes, And the Flag is proudly streaming From the many towered domes. For the battle fire has known it Where the cannon thunder rolls, And the citizens have flown it From the windows of their souls. [72] THE TEST SHIP She has laid her path in the Kaiser's wrath, A free American ship, Where assassins lurk in the ocean murk And the bolts of death let slip. Have we done our share who have bade her dare, A free American ship? We are safe at home while she braves the foam. Our service is of the lip. So honour and hail to the men who sail The free American ship. For their only might is an ancient right And the Flag that will not dip. [73] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET They have gone as test for the beast to wrest, A free American ship; Lest their blood lie red at our door instead, Pray heaven protect their trip! [74] LOOKING FOR DADDY Their curly heads beside the lamp, His little lass and laddie, With fat forefingers on the map They daily look for Daddy. And somewhere underneath the sea A submarine is steering, A man beside the periscope For Daddy ever peering. Or it may be that up above, The vaulted heaven streaking. An airman courses through the sky For Daddy also seeking. [75] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET God grant they find the sole success, His little lass and laddie, Who gather close around the map And daily look for Daddy. [76] LIBERTY'S DYNAMO What if the foe is strong, Centuries grey in ruth? Marches against the wrong Billions of years of youth. Filled with the joy of life, Filled with its fire and glow Forth go the boys to strife — Liberty's dynamo. [77] THE ANGELS OF CONSCRIPT Since earth has been peopled, Since time first began, The Angels of Conscript Have called unto man. Through mystical regions The Angel of Life Has sounded the bugle To enter the strife. With blasts of his trumpet The Angel of Death Has gathered his levies From all who draw breath. [78] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Now, joining the others In clarion tone, The Angel of Duty The summons has blown. [79] A FLAG FOR RUSSIA The flag of revolution Has served its appointed end, It is laid aside With the days that died With the dust of time to blend. A flag for the new republic! A banner to wave on high, As a streaming sign Of the boon divine In a free and storm cleansed sky. Look up to the heavens, Russia, Whence the Stars and Stripes were snatched. Where the lamps of night And the morning light Make a glory still unmatched. [80] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Now weave you the seven stripings From the rainbow's shining span. Let their gleaming dyes Make a flag that flies, A symbol of hope to man. And then let its folds triumphant Float over the tides of blood Till it tells at last That the clouds are past And there shall be no more flood! [81] THE LIGHTS ARE OUT The lights are out in London town To thwart attack; The darkness settles thickly down And all is black. The hearth's warm glow is veiled from sight And hid away; The scholar's lamp is wrapped in night And gives no ray. The altar taper has no gleam Where faith may stir; The beacon guides not with its beam The wanderer. [82] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET These sparks divine of central Light War covers well, And leaves alone to cleave the night The flames of hell. [83] SOLDIERS One plies his dull civilian task, The duty of the commonplace; Not his in glory's ray to bask, Not his a hero death to face. And though he goes his daily way And to his fellows gives no sign, Awake, asleep, by night and day His heart is on the firing line. One does his bit in trench or charge For conquest of the enemy. And every passing hour is large With mighty opportunity. He sounds his guns to heaven's dome, Yet to his mates he gives no sign. His heart is in the hills of home. Far distant from the firing line. [84] THINGS YOU CAN DO FOR THE COUNTRY The fighting man can die for it; The saving man can buy for it; The aviator fly for it; The thrifty cook can fry for it; The thirsty can go dry for it; The daring man can spy for it; The egotist can I for it; The diplomat can lie for it; The farmer can grow rye for it; The workingman can ply for it; The very babies cry for it; And all of us can try for it. [85] UNCLE SAM'S DYES Now Uncle Sam is colour free And needs no dyes from over sea. His violet is purple worn Where every man a king is bom. His indigo is from his sky Where shine his kindred stars on high. His blue is from his inland sea Where peaceful waves lap endlessly. His green is from the forests wide That clothe his mighty mountainside. [86] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET His yellow is the golden grain That covers all his western plain. His orange is the treasure trove From Florida's enchanted grove. His red is from the splendid flood Of eager patriotic blood. On coal tar explanations frown — He simply boils his rainbow down. [87] THE WORSHIP OF THE KINGS Now joy has come to the world of men And the sky exultant rings, Behold, to the Prince of Peace again Comes the worship of the kings! And who are the monarchs? Who are these By the millions thronging round? The kings of the world's democracies, Where every man is crowned. Their frankincense and their myrrh and gold— What gifts do they bring to cast? Their lives and fortunes and all they hold, Their war for a peace to last. [88] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET The great shells crash and the cannon roar And the angel chorus sings, Behold, to the Prince of Peace once more Comes the worship of the kings! [89] THE FLAG Oh, say, can you hear, In hush of the morn. The words of the Flag As daylight is born? "Lives one 'neath my stars, Breathes one 'neath my fold Who lives not for me Till death strikes him cold? "Then turn him adrift On seas whence he came. My stars cannot pierce The depths of his shame." [90] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET The winds tell it well, The message is clear; 'Tis thus speaks the Flag, Oh, say, can you hear? [91] THE HOUSE OF GOD A shudder runs through all the world, A horror of the wanton wrack When on the House of God is hurled The vandal's impious attack. We sorrow for the man-made walls, Yet strangely feel a lesser guilt When with each slaughtered soldier falls The temple God, Himself, has built. The history of ages vast The dream-like pile has seen and known, The dim, rich centuries o'erpast. The ancient beauty of its stone. But in God's living house abide The eons since the cave man free, And in the throbbing walls reside The golden future that shall be. [92] HUSHABY All the lands are filled with soldiers, Only one is safe and nigh; Go to sleep, my little baby, Ere the bolts of battle fly And destroy the magic country Where the Sand Man's beaches lie, Hushaby 1 All the clouds are filled with fighting. Only one is safe to try; Go to sleep, my little baby, Ere the navies of the sky Shall destroy the sunset towers Crowning Sleepytown on high. Hushaby 1 [93] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET All the seas are red with conquest, Only one no foe may spy; Go to sleep, my little baby, Ere the warships grim reply And awake the drowsy waters Where the slumber sea makes sigh, Hushaby! [94] THE METTLE OF A MAN You need a standard to compare Before you know just what you are; You have to see tlie mercury To tell how cold or hot you are. And also, when it comes to wealth, You never know just which you are; You have to see another's gold To feel how poor or rich you are. And so it is with bravery, You do not know how meek you are; You measure with another's steel To find how strong or weak you are. [95] SEEING THE GUARD OFF And did you see the Guard today, The khaki army on its way? And did you note from first to last How much alike each lad who passed? With thrilling heart did you behold The endless stream of youth that rolled, The valiant hosts of marching men? You counted thousands? then — ah then, You had no badge. And did you see the Guard today, The khaki army on its way? Some came before — you saw them not. And some came after — you forgot, But one stood out from all the rest As though alone he sought the quest, [96] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET As though alone he marched to win, You saw him only — ^he was kin, You had a badge. [97] THE CHILDREN OF THE BRAVE A brave man went to battle And left no son behind ; A coward stayed home safely To propagate his kind. And then the land lamented Her noblest men were gone, Were dead with no descendants To hand the torches on. But in his valiant passing The soldier left a deed To serve as inspiration For Time's unborn to heed. [98] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET When in his generation He heard the trumpets cry, The coward's son, responding, Went bravely forth to die. [99] THE GREEN BLADES Adding the strength of their blades to the combat, Sharpened for freedom and keen for a blow, Forth from the scabbard of earth where they rested All the green swords have been drawn on the foe. Pressing and swaying in undulate masses, Over the acres in mighty expanse, Bright in the sunlight and white in the moonlight All the green lances are riding for France. [100] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Ready to fight in democracy's battle, Fixed for the thrust with a soldierly sign, Bristling and shining in phalanx on phalanx All the green bayonets point to the Rhine. [101] GIFTS FOR UNCLE SAM What gifts have we for Uncle Sam In this, the hour we hear his call? What offerings are at his feet From each and all? Those who have come from foreign lands Where ancient ties of blood hold fast, Where olden memories are strong, Give him the Past. Some bring the sacrifice supreme, The golden years they shall not live. For those who die in battle smoke The Future give. [102] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Let all cast out their selfish aims. The small ambitions that hold sway, With one accord and heart and soul Give him Today. [103] THE SOLDIER When he leaves for battle Cheer him on his way, Weep for him tomorrow, Smile for him today. When he falls in battle, Hero of the fray, Smile for him tomorrow. Weep for him today. [104] MY BROTHER DIED My brother died in Belgium By heartless foemen slain, And yet I went my easy way And took my pleasure day by day Nor felt the lonely pain. My brother died in Scarborough Struck down without a chance ; I had but little loss to tell Nor mourned him wildly when he fell. Foul struck, in ravaged France. They drowned my brother in a ship By murder 'neath the wave And straightway then my grief unpent, My heart with bitter woe was rent And would avenge his grave. [105] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Yet while I mourn uncomforted And cry to heaven's throne, How many deaths my brother died Before I missed him from my side And knew him for my own. [106] EASTER 1917 While the flags of freedom's world To the battle smoke unfurled, There was one we loved the best, Dear to us beyond the rest, Which was missing. Would it never fly again For the liberty of men? There, where others never quailed, Had the Starry Banner failed In its glory? Many bonds its folds restrained, Held it as an eagle chained, And we watched and waited long Till the fear grew chill and strong It had perished. [107] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Lo, in splendour now it comes To the throbbing of the drums, And rejoicing peoples cry, As it streams across the sky, "It is risen!" [108] EARS TO HEAR Once in a pause Occurred a sound ; I asked the cause Of all around. "Philosopher, What has it been?' He answered, "Sir, You heard a pin." "Oh angel, tell What may it be?" "A sparrow fell," Soft answered he. [109] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET "Oh citizen, Pray make it known." He told me then: "A falling throne." [110] THE LIBERTY BABY BONDS Liberty's babies are sturdy to view, Every one's home should have room for a few. Very good babies, so heahhy and bright, Never will keep you awake in the night. Very bright babies who talk all the day, You can repeat the smart things that they say. Very fine babies — pure gold is their worth, None are more precious in all of the earth. Very rich babies will soon be their stage, Joy of your prime and the prop of your age. [1111 THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Very strong babies, all sure to grow up, When we have conquered and peace fills our cup. [112] WHEN JOHNNY GOES MARCHING OFF Pa sees it at a glance, He thinks he'll be a General, With Joffre and Haig and Pershing pal, Somewhere in France. Ma fears he has no chance, The bombs will follow on his trail, The shells will hit and never fail Somewhere in France. Sis feels a far romance. She thinks he'll find a pretty wife Between the intervals of strife Somewhere in France. [113] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Bub sees it at a glance, They've picked the family muttonhead, He's old enough to go instead Somewhere in France. [114] THREE GRAINS OF CORN "Give me three grains of corn, mother, Only three grains of com!" Thus, in her plaintive accents, Pleaded the child forlorn. Little it was she begged for, Little enough she craved; Tiny the dole for hunger, Thus would her life be saved. Then said her heartless parent: "None of your nonsense now; Shut up and eat the plateful, Corn is the proper chow!" [115] KHAKI Forth go the men in khaki, Drab as the soil beneath them, Matched with the stretch of desert. One with the great waste spaces Melting away in distance. Under the soldier tunic Beats in each man a spirit Matched with the mighty purpose, One with the Will Eternal Over creation brooding. Then when the ranks of khaki Break on the blinded foeman He shall behold with terror That which from sight was hidden ; Earth and the whelming Judgment! [116] NATURE'S WAY When war is done and guns are still, Then Mother Nature works her will. Above the graves where soldiers sleep Her tender grasses softly creep. The blackened ruin, stark and grim, She wraps in ivy green and dim. The grisly horror in the mind With valour's laurel is entwined. And then her children cry, consoled: "She heals the scars that peace may hold!' But ask the Mother — what thinks she? "If they forget, more wars can be." [ 117 ] WHAT IS WANTED ON THE GERMAN THRONE From out that madhouse which is Germany Armed lunatics have issued on the world; In each crazed brain some bloody phantasy Whose wild disorder on mankind is hurled. They think they have become the Deity, In wanton torture find a fiend's delight, And all delusions hold red rivalry To waste the earth insanely in their might. In vain to cry against a monarchy — Long since an abdication has been shown; In vain to prate of a democracy Till Reason is established on her throne. [118] THE SERVICE FLAGS I see the sky at midnight And hail the flags afar, From each of heaven's windows There flies a service star. What mean the shining symbols? The watchers in the sky Have proudly hung the banners While hope and fear runs high. I think the many mansions That fly the stars of light Have some one with the colours, Have some one in the fight. [119] MOVING TIME Your Uncle Sam is busy now, for moving time has come, He packs his good old uniform, his sabre and his drum; He packs the family portraits that have hung upon the wall, George Washington and Lincoln and his heroes one and all. Quite certain rays of Liberty are needed everywhere. He also packs his precious lamp with most uncommon care. And last he takes the family bird, the pet with eagle scream. And piles them all into the van and wallops up the team! [120] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Where is his new abiding place? where will his home be made? He goes into the biggest house in which he ever stayed, For when beside his Allies' flags his stand- ard is unfurled, He moves from out a continent and moves into a world. [121] HELPING WASHINGTON Think that Washington is slow? Saints above! Want to get 'em on the go? Want to shove? Want to hurry up the fight, Speed it far? You can push with all your might Where you are. Want to help for woe or weal? Listen, Bub: Put your shoulder to the wheel, Not the hub. [122] COMPANY FOR DINNER Our cousins are coming to dinner. The larder is showing a lack, So pass the kick under the table And signal the family, "Hold back!" You, Mother, decline the potatoes, And Father, go light on the meat; And Sis, have a heart for the sugar. And Bub, skip the bread when you eat. There — France, have some more, let us be^ you; John Bull, let us fill up your plate; And Belgium, another good helping — Gee folks, but to have you is great! [123] SPEEDING THE SOLDIER Sun just won't be solemn When it sees the column Wheeling into line; Knows a way that's fitter, Starts right in to glitter, Simply has to shine. Moon just won't be cranky When it sees the Yankee Marching off to France; Every moonbeam, happy. Feels so proud and scrappy. Simply has to dance. These who see the saddest, These who watch the maddest [124] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Of our earthly sights, Want to glow for glory Blazoning the story When the soldier fights. [125] WHAT DOES IT PROFIT A MAN? He dreamed a dream of Prussia's rod. The world in his control, And, worshipping a Prussian god, Feared not to lose his soul. He gained the countries which he sought And made the eartli run red. But hy the hellish deeds he wrought His soul is forfeited. Now by avenging armies pressed He counts the fearful cost And knows within his shaking breast Both world and soul are lost. [126] FOOTSTEPS ON THE SEA The troubled deeps have known The wrath of warring man; Far plunged beneath the wave He works his bloody plan. The surface billows know, Above their curling crest, The thunder of his guns, The wreck of his unrest. How must the ocean yearn. How greatly longs the sea To feel the peaceful steps That trod on Galilee. [127] REALIZATION The bloody war rolls on To reach the hidden end ; We speak of legions gone, But cannot comprehend. We cannot grasp the woes So greatly multiplied, There is no man who knows A million men have died. But by the hearts bereft, The gravestones scattered wide, Ah me, the millions left Who know one man has died! [128] THE BUTCHER OF BELGIUM Von Bissing, the Butcher of Belgium, is dead. He has passed while his ears heard the conqueror's tread; He has cheated the hangman and died in his bed. The might of the Allies was pressing him well, The guilt of his conscience their shout could foretell, And the cry on their lips was of Edith Cavell. His flesh has escaped from the penalty earned, [129] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET His tigerish being to dust has returned, But Nemesis cannot be shaken or spumed. For memory's strands twine a rope that is strong, And hung by the noose of each outrage and wrong The soul of Von Bissing shall dangle for long. [130] RHEIMS CATHEDRAL Long centuries ago a holy man Sang out his soul in ecstasy to God ; So sweet the rapture of the music ran, An angel froze it to the hallowed sod; Love, faith and worship all took form on high, And Rheims Cathedral towered to the sky. It stood through all the ages of mischance, Knew kings and peasants, lords and ladies fair. It looked upon the sainted Maid of France, And sinners found a sanctuary there; So, for the sake of His most holy name. The foulest vandals spared it from the flame. [131] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET Then came the Germans, with the breath of hell The walls were melted, and the music fled; For all the beauty that men loved so well, A Demon's discord cleaves the air instead. And what was once a prayer to God's far throne, Stands now, an awful blasphemy in stone. Prize poem in London Bookman. [132] THE ARMY OF THOUGHTS A thought will hit when a shot will stray, A thought will stand when a fort gives way, A thought will feed when no bread is nigh, A thought will live when a man will die. So the German cruisers watched in vain, The thoughts sped over the rolling main. The searchlights tattered the clouds of night But missed the hosts on their onward flight. So the picket walked on his lonely beat And heard no warning of tramping feet; The sentry stood in the life-thrilled air But gave no summons of "Who goes there?" [133] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET But out where the battling armies met, Out where tlie slopes with blood were wet, A corps half beaten and lost, despite, Felt strangely strengtliened to win the fight. And far away in a ruined land Where a mother wept with her orphaned band, A strange balm soothed her and hushed her cry, And she dried her tears, though she knew not why. [134] THE SINEWS OF WAR Want to punch the Kaiser Way across the pond? Cultivate a wallop, Buy a biceps bond. Want to grip the Kaiser Like a bulldog fond? Get yourself in training, Buy a biceps bond. Want to kick the Kaiser Downward and beyond? Get a bunch of muscle, Buy a biceps bond. [135] THE SUBSTITUTE LIFE The cost of meat went soaring up Beyond what he could make, So Jones was forced to live upon A substitute for steak. The cost of rent went mounting high Beyond his humble dome, So Jones was forced to dwell within A substitute for home. The cost of flour rose aloft Past all his purse could meet. So Jones was forced to use instead A substitute for wheat. [136] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET At last poor Jones himself went up And fared extremely well; "Walk in," Saint Peter said; "you've had Your substitute for hell." [137] YOU Were German Zeppelins in the sky Above your own home town, You would not think the bombs on high Were meant for Smith or Brown; You'd quick decide, "Fritz wants my hide." Were German warships off our shore To speak in thunder tones You would not think that mighty roar Was meant for Jinks or Jones; You'd say, "That din Is for my skin." Were German soldiers on our soil, If you beheld the Hun, [138] THE LITTLE FLAG ON MAIN STREET You would not think their plotted spoil Was Binks or Robinson; You'd mutter, "Wheel The boche wants me." Now Uncle Sam sends forth the call For flyers, soldiers, tars; Don't think he wants the rest at all To guard Old Glory's stars, But holler, "Gee! That call means ME!" Printed in the United States of America. [139] n ^HE following pages ontain advertisements of a few of the Macmillan books on kindred subjects NEW VACHEL LINDSAY POEMS The Chinese Nightingale By VACHEL LINDSAY, Author of 'The Congo and Other Poems " Decorated Cloth, i2mo., $1.25 This is Mr. Lindsay's first volume of poems since The Congo. In addition to the title piece, a very remarkable and much discussed "prize poem," the collection includes : To Jane Addams at the Hague, The Tale of the Tiger Tree, Our Mother Pocahon- tas, Mark Twain and Joan of Arc, Two Old Crows, The Raft, The Ghosts of the Buffaloes, The King of the Yellow Butterflies. The Potatoes' Dance and The Booker Washington Trilogy. A number of the se- lections are in the manner which Mr. Lindsay has made peculiarly his own. "Poems to be read aloud," he calls them. Some of these he has employed with great success on his own lecture tours, particularly Simon Degree, John Brown, and King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba. PLAYS BY RIDGELY TORRENCE Granny Maumee: The Rider of Dreams: Simon the Cyrenean Plays for a Negro Theatre By RIDGELY TORRENCE Boards, 8vo. $1.50 Mr. Torrence has caught the real spirit of negro life and imprisoned it in these plays. Presented suc- cessfully in New York City in the spring of this year by a company of negro players, they were seen to be both dramatic in situation, true in character and appealing as to theme. The success which they enjoyed in production is sure to be duplicated in their printed form ; in fact, it may be that their certain literary values and their interpretation of the philosophy of a remarkable people, are even more clearly revealed than they were behind the footlights. THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York NEIV POEMS BY SARA TEASDALE Love Songs By SARA TEASDALE Author of "Rivers to the Sea" Decorated cloth, i2mo., $1.25 Leather, $1.75 A book of exceeding charm is this collection of love poems by the author of "Rivers to the Sea." If we take the critic's word for it, Miss Teasdale's popularity today and her position as one of the fore- most America lyricists are due to the exquisite fin- ish, the delicacy of phrasing and the beauty of senti- ment of her poems of love. These distinguish the book which has just preceded the present one and these qualities similarly distinguish her more recent magazine verse. This fact makes particularly wel- come this new collection which, besides including the author's later work, embraces a number of se- lections from her earlier writings. By the Same Author RIVERS TO THE SEA $1.25 "It is poetry of a limpid, liquid quality." Her poems do what poetry supremely should do; they sing. — Reedy's Mirror. THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York The Collected Poems of Wilfrid Wilson Gibson, 1904-1917 With frontispiece portrait of the author Cloth, i2mo., $2.00 Here are brought together all of Mr. Gibson's writings which he wishes to preserve, including Borderlands and Thoroughfares, Daily Bread, JVom- enkind. Fires, Livelihood and Battle. In the collec- tion there is also Akra the Slave, a play of some thirty pages, one of Mr. Gibson's earlier composi- tions which is new to readers in this country. Ralph Hodgson's Poems Recently awarded the Edward de Polignac prize for poetry, Ralph Hodgson is already well known in this country. Those who have read, in the little yellow chap books of the "Flying Fame," 'The Song of Honour," "Eve," "The Bull" and others will wel- come their publication in this American edition. " * Eve,' . . . The most fascinating poem of our time." — The Nation. The Last Blackbird By RALPH HODGSON Cloth, i2mo. The interest aroused by Mr. Hodgson's volume of poems published this year has called for the dis- covery of some of his earlier work. This volume possesses the charm and lyric sweetness, and in ad- dition the mystical quality which have placed the author in a unique position among contemporary poets. THE MACMTLLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York A NEW BOOK BY AMY LOWELL Tendencies in Modem American Poetry By amy LOWELL $^.50 In this new volume Miss Lowell again turns to criticism. For the first time, the new poetic renais- sance is considered critically and given a perspective. Taking six leading poets, each a t^-pe of one of the trends of contemporary verse, she has written a short biographical account of the man, and a criti- cal summary of his work ; relating him to the past, and showing the steps by which he left it to create the present. "It would be disagreeably obvious to call Miss Lowell's prose 'poetic' Its style con- ceals style ; its sculptural simplicity has the regnant beauty of line. . . . Always she aims at the dominant attitude of each of her poets. . . . She achieves chiselled imagery, the re- flection in the mirror of words, of the clear, bright flame of immortal genius." Review of Reviews. THE MACMILLAN COMPANY Publishers 64-66 Fifth Avenue New York UBRARV,,,OFCONg|| 018 482 476 /