SEP 17 1919 A List of EIGHTY-SEVEN POETS Representing American ^Verse from 1900 to 1919 m^ /r- r If nevertheless God have called any of you to explore Truth and Beauty, be bold, be firm, be true." Syracuse Reprint of the Library Lists of the POETRY SOCIETY OF AMERICA ? \k ^ 9 • ••■•• • . • •„•••• i •••• • • • • Published by The Syracuse Public Library Syracuse G New York July, igig ''Trice. 20 cents 402378 The Service of Poetry In these stirring and tremendous times the American public library has many oppor- tunities for service. Among these one of the highest is that of introducing to their fellow- men those artists who through the printed word interpret human life, and hold aloft the torch of the ideal. To be chosen, therefore, as the official agency for advertising the wares of such Amer- ican poets as have earned the approval of the Poetry Society of America is both an honor and a peculiarly happy opportunity for continuing our work as promoters of good reading. THE STAFF OF THE SYRACUSE PUBLIC LIBRARY. What the Syracuse Reprint Is Toward the close of 1913 the Poetry Society of America, through a committee selected from its officers and members, made a list of such books of American contemporary poetry as could in their opinion be recommended for purchase by libraries both public and private and for reading and study by all who desired to keep in touch with poetic movements in this country. The list of that year was printed in the columns of the Library Journal for February, 1914. This first of our Library Lists was extended to cover more or less per- fectly the years from 1900 to 1913. Librarians were at that time noting the awakened interest in our own native poetry, and there was a call for the publication of like Lists in the years that followed. The Library Journal continuing its hospitality, the Lists here- after were made every December and were given to the public in the February following. After a while the Syracuse Public Library, through the interest of its chief librarian, Paul M. Paine, reprinted those Lists in its Bulletin and through these reprints the Lists have reached a still wider usefulness. The List that follows here is a restated and somewhat condensed arrangement of all these Lists, thus including volumes from 1900 to 1919. It has been carefully arranged, the titles and publishers are named, a note of appreciation and a short quotation are given with each author. In this form it is hoped that the Syracuse Reprint will meet a wide need among people who feel the necessity to know the poetry of today and among those who do not but would if they realized how much more there is of it and how vital a thing it is at the present moment. It should be understood by all users of this List that the Committee distinctly disclaim definitive judgments upon the ultimate value of the books chosen. They simply present to poetry lovers and to all who believe expression in poetry (as well as in the other arts) to be essential to our national development, a guide to present-day trends in poetry — a means of finding out what is happening in our own poetic realm. One would say that the people who wish to be fairly well read in our national literature should know at least these among the many hundreds of volumes of native poetry that might be annually urged upon them. The effort has been made to include books that show finished artistry, fresh impulses, some real contribution of new born thought, some fresh inspiration illuminating old thought, or some bold and noble dash that comes from the depths of a soul intensely native and innately chaste. To be sure omissions of valued books sometimes occur. Not all books of poetry are published by well-known publishers. Out-of-the-way printers often get hold of a gem of purest ray serene. Hence the Committee are glad to receive suggestions from any source as to privately-printed or other books of verse that might otherwise escape their attention. Address the Chairman of the Committee, Mrs. Martha Foote Crow, 16 Morningside Avenue. New York City. The Corcrpitfec fcm Library Lists in the Poetry Society of America will continue its annual reports on current poetry and present these in the February number of the Library Journal (241 West 37th Street, New York City). Some slight changes will be made after this year. Heretofore poetry written in dramatic form has not been listed. After this, the poetic drama will be taken up by a special section of the Committee and will be listed in a group by itself. The Lists from which the present Syracuse Reprint has been made show a number of marked characteristics. In technique it must be admitted that very few of our poets show that Greek composure and calm and self-restraint that are the desire of the world in art. We are a tumultuous and voluminous people and our poetry shows it. The social spirit puts its mark on our poetry. We chastise ourselves and we repent tremendously. It must be that we improve and future critics, perhaps, will find this out. Our list is remarkable for the large number of professional people therein — teachers and men of active life. The university, it seems, in America does not debar an instructor from poetic hours. The large number of arrived and promising women poets will also be noted. To these technique is vividly precious, while they also contribute something that would have been forever unsaid had they remained forever silent. The poets of this country have responded to the mighty call of the World War J the experienced poets have found new inspiration and the young poets have been forced to eayger expression almost before their time. There is a sweep of idealism, of spirituality through the poetic realm ; religious faith is being expressed in new modes ; patriotism is exalted ; world brotherhood and internationalism are to the fore ; the new democracy is shining into the eyes of the young poets, and they are helping to make the world over. Among the things these Lists do not to any great extent show are these. First, a group of poets of the "vernacular" variety, singing the songs of the plains and the canyons, the dug- out and the ranch. Neihardt has discovered the pioneer life as material for narrative verse, and Knibbs (like Service, the Canadian) touches the cowboy and miner. The omission of most of the poets of this group is because they so seldom reach the height of true art. But vast possibilities lie awaiting our poets' efforts in this field. Another omission concerns the so-called Free Verse or Imagist group. The Poetry Society makes no bars against any group or kind as such; but as yet the Committee have found but little among the Free Versists, Imagists and Semi-prose writers that, in their opinion, shows that rare and delicate fragrance, that Greek finality, that all-conquering charm, that enlivening of the spirit, that are essential to real poetry. But poetry is poetry, whatever form it takes, and therefore they preserve a catholic attitude and wait. Meantime all sorts are represented by certain volumes in the List. If, ten years later, we should be so fortunate as to make another Syracuse Reprint, we should certainly have within its scope some vast enlightenments as to our social complex, some noble enlargement of spirit, and an amazing influx of imagery freshly minted in the new life of the Republic. We should find also contributions from hundreds of new- comers who have adopted our nation for their own, giving of their treasures of thought and imagery ; and we should have mastered a sensitive, melodious, and DeBussy-like technique, undissipated by the artistic tumult that sometimes seems to threaten our sacred standards but which when it passes will surely leave enrichment in its wake. M. F. C. EIGHTY-SEVEN POETS Babcock, Edwina Stanton Greek Wayfarers Putnam The Flying Parliament White In her first volume, themes of present-day Greece; in her second, today and the War. One of the younger poets and very promising. THE LITTLE SHADE. No longer that grey visage fix, Charon, Asking me how I come to mix With this pale boat-load on the Styx, Charon. I am so very small a Shade, Charon, Holding the vase my father made And toys of silver all inlaid, Charon. Ferry me to the golden trees, Charon, To isles of childish play and ease And baths of dove-like Pleiades, Charon. Ferry me to the azure lands, Charon, Where some dead mother understands The lifting of my baby hands, Charon. — In Greek Wayfarers, by Edwina S. Babcock, cour- tesy of G. B. Putnam's Sons, publishers. Bailey, Liberty Hyde Wind and Weather .Scribner From the study of an encyclopaedic man comes flut- tering a sheaf of delicate poems characterized by cos- mic vision, and a form gracefully free. From ANCHORAGE. I know I stand upon my shore, I know I look through open door, I know that spaces stretch before. Unto my solid earth I cling, And grip myself to ev'rything That to my conquest I can bring. I must be of the Fact aware, Then let my vision outward fare Nor fear whatever may be there,— '.'.,' As wide and free as windows are That open to the spaces far Beyond the glint of any star. Much joy it is that we may be Some part of plan so wonderly And dream the dreams of mystery. Barker, Elsa The Frozen Grail Duffield Spiritual aspects mean much to this poet; in meas- ures stately and controlled she reveals her soul's exaltations. WHEN I AM DEAD AND SISTER TO THE DUST. When I am dead and sister to the dust; When no more avidly I drink the wine Of human love; when the pale Proserpine Has covered me with poppies, and cold rust lias cut my lyre-strings, and the sun has thrust Me underground to nourish the world-vine, — Men shall discover these old songs of mine, And say: This woman lived — as poets must! This woman lived and wore Kfe as a sword To conquer wisdom; this dead woman read In the sealed Book of Love and underscored The meanings. Then the sails of faith she spread, And faring out for regions unexplored, Went singing down the River of the Dead. Bates, Katherine Lee X" America, the Beautiful Crowell The Retinue and Other Poems Dutton Through a scholarly medium the warmly beating and patriotic heart of a strong woman expresses itself. The stanza is taken from a poem that bids fair to become a national hymn. O beautiful for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain, For purple mountain majesties Above the fruited plain! | America! America! God shed His grace on thee And crown thy good with brotherhood From sea to shining sea! — First stanza of America the Beautiful. Benet, William Rose Falconer of God and Other Poems Yale Univ. Great White Wall Yale Univ. Merchants from Cathay Century A poet who writes with distinction, frequently in ballad form, and with great variety in rhyme and in rhythm. From THE YOUNG BROTHER. Lord Christ, who strode blithely on land or sea With meekness and mettle through Galillee, Glad for the rain and the wind and the sun, For the songs of birds and bright day begun, Sanction the prayer of thy youngest one! — In Merchants from Cathay. Braley, Berton Songs of the Workaday World Doran The laborer finds a voice in the poems of Berton Braley, his straightness and his gameness, his pathos and humor. From THE THINKER. Might of the roaring boiler, Force of the engine's thrust, Strength of the sweating toiler, Greatly in these we trust. But back of them stands the Schemer, The Thinker who drives things through; Back of the Job — the Dreamer Who's making the Dream come true! Branch, Anna Hempstead The Heart of the Road Houghton The Shoes that Danced Houghton The Rose of the Wind Houghton "Of titanic imagination and chryselephantine speech; she might have been Milton's daughter," said Edwin Markham. Another has called her, because of her keen social feeling, "the Jane Addams of poetry". From NIMROD. I rode on Revolutions and I leaped From mammoth time to mammoth time I clung To gorgeous wheels of cycles and was whirled forth From them into mid air. I sat astride Event and guided it. Over vast plains I drove his chariots of change. — In The Rose of the Wind. Burnet, Dana Poems Harpers A poet of youth and with the Vision ahead. WHO DREAMS SHALL LIVE). Who dreams shall live! And if we do not dream Then we shall build no Temple into Time, Yon dust cloud, whirling slow against the sun, Was yesterday's cathedral, stirred to gold By heedless footsteps of a passing world. The faiths of stone and steel are failed of proof; The King who made religion of a Sword Passes, and is forgotten in a day. The crown he wore rots as a lily's root, The rose unfurls her banner o'er his dust. (Copyright by Harper & Bros.) Burr, Amelia Josephine Life and Living Doran The Silver Trumpet Doran A scul that surges with the great issues of life, the struggles that make history. The verse shows great command of technical resources, but technique is not emphasized. PERSHING AT THE TOMB OF LAFAYETTE. They knew they were fighting our war. As the months grew to years Their men and their women had watched through their blood and their tears For a sign that we knew, we who could not have come to be free Without France, k>ng ago.And at last from the threat- ening sea The stars of our strength on the eyes of their weari- ness rose And he stood among them, the sorrow-strong hero we chose To carry our flag to the tomb of that Frenchman whose name A man of our country could once more pronounce without shame. What crown of rich words would he set for all time on this day? The past and the future were listening what he would say — Only this, from the white-flaming heart of a passion austere, Only this — ah, but France understood! "Lafayette, we are here." — In The Silver Trumpet. Burton, Richard Dumb in June Lothrop Lyrics of Brotherhood Lothrop Message and Melody Lothrop Poems of Earth's Meaning Holt A writer of kindly verse that observes all of the literary conventions of thought and diction, with now and then a very poignant line, as in THE HUMAN TOUCH. High thoughts and noble in all lands Help me, my soul is fed by such. But oh, the touch of lips and hands, The human touch! Warm, vital, close, life's symbols dear, — These need I most, and now and here. — In Lyrics of Brotherhood. Bynner, Witter The New World Macmillan Grenstone Poems Stokes > Embodying in his beautiful figure of Celia the highest and best elements in American democracy, he has sung in both rhymed and free verse of a wide- range of human emotion. THE MYSTIC. By seven vineyards on one hill We walked. The native wire In clusters grew beside us two, For your lips and for mine, 4 When, 'Hark!" you said, — "Was that a bell Or a bubbling spring we heard?" But I was wise and closed my eyes And listened to a bird; For as summer leaves are bent and shake With singers passing through, So moves in me continually The winged breath of you. You tasted from a single vine And took from that your fill — But I inclined to every kind, All seven on one hill. — Grenstone Poems. Carman, Bliss Complete Poems, 2 vols L. C. Page An experienced poet, a master of poetic charm. A voice from days when we were less virile and stren- uous than now. From LORD OF MY HEART'S ELATION. Lord of my heart's elation, Spirit of things unseen, Be thou my aspiration Consuming and serene! Bear up, bear out, bear onward, This mortal soul alone, To selfhood or oblivion, Incredibly thine own, — As the foamheads are loosened And blown along the sea, Or sink and merge forever In that which bids them be. Be thou my exaltation Or fortitude of mien, Lord of the woild's elation, Thou breath of things unseen! Cawein, Madison Poems: Selected ed MacmlHan The Cup of Comus Cameo Press Processions of children now visit the gardens ail glades beloved by this poet. Need more be said? atmosphere of his verse must be crystalline, the mel- ody inevitable. From OLD HOMES. Old homes among the hills! I love their gardens; Their old rock fences, that our day inherits; Their doors, round which the great trees stand like wardens; Their paths, down which the shadows march like- spirits; Broad doors and paths that reach bird-haunted gar- dens. Old homes! old hearts! Upon my soul forever Their peace and gladness lie like tears and laughter; Like love they touch me, through the years that sever. With simple faith; like friendship, draw me after The dreamy patience that is theirs forever. — In The Poet, the Fool and the Fairies — Pub. by Small, Maynard. Clark, Charles Badger Grass-grown Trails .....Badger A poet of the far middle-west who is full of Amer- ican spirit, vivid life, and real opinions. From MY FATHER AND I. My father prayed as he drew a bead on the gravcoat?. Back in those blazing years when the house was divided. Bless his old heart! There never was truer nor kinder; Yet he prayed while hoping the ball from his clumsy old musket Might thud to the body of some hot-eyed yo.ing Southerner And tumble him limp in the mud of the Yicksburg trenches. That was my father, serving the Lord and his country, Praying and shooting whole-heartedly, Never a doubt. And now what about me in my own day of battle? Could I put my prayers behind a slim Springfield bullet? Hardly, except to mutter: "Jesus, we part here." Cleghorn, Sarah N. Portraits and Protests Holt A poet of vigorous protest against some social bands. A strong mind and a good contriver of verse. From JUDGE; ME, O LORD! If I had been in Palestine A p<,or disciple I had been. I had not risked my purse or limb All to forsake and follow Him. P»ut with the vast and wondering throng I too had stood and listened long; I too had felt my spirit stirred When the Beatitudes I heard. Beside the cross when Mary prayed A great way off I too had stayed; Not even in that hour had dared, And for my dying Lord declared; Put beat upon my craven breast, And loathed my coward heart, at least, To think my life I dared not stake And beard the Romans for His sake. Coates, Florence Earle Poems Houghton Lyrics of Life Houghton Collected Poems, 2 vols Houghton A well-known and accepted poet. Sympathy, purity and tenderness characterize her work. From A SONG. I love, and thoughts that sometime grieved, Still well remembered, grieve not me; From all that darkened and deceived Upsoars my spirit free. For soft the hours repeat one story, Sings the sea one strain divine, My clouds arise aM flushed with glory; I love, and the world is mine! — In Lyrics of Life. Cone, Helen Gray The Ride to the Lady and Other Poems Houghton One of many experienced poets whom the world war aroused to finer and nobler powers. From A CHANT OF LOVE FOR ENGLAND. Shatter her beauteous breast ye may; The Spirit of England none can slay. Dash the bomb on the dome of Paul's, — Deem ye the fame of the Admiral falls? Pry the stone from the chancel floor, — Dream ye that Shakespeare shall live no more? Bind her, grind her, burn her with fire, Cast her ashes into the sea,— She shall escape, she shall aspire, She shall 1 arise to make men free: She shall arise in a sacred scorn, Lighting the lives that are yet unborn; Spirit supernal, Splendour eternal, . England! Pub. by Dutton. First pub. in Atlantic Monthly. Conklin, Grace Hazard Afternoons in April Houghton A strong and self-restrained poet, one of very great promise and of achievement already. THE NIGHTINGALES OF FLANDERS. T,e rossignol n'est pas mobilise. A French Soldier. The nightingales of Flanders, They have not gone to war. A soldier heard them singing Where they have sung before. The earth was torn and quaking, The sky about to- fall, The nightingales of Flanders They minded not at all. At intervals he heard them Between the guns, he said, Making a thrilling music Above the listening dead. Of woodland and of orchard And roadside tree bereft, The nightingales of Flanders Were singing "France is left!" Cox, Eleanor Rogers Singing Fires of Erin Lane A poet of the Celtic mists and magic. From THE COMING OF LUGH. A magic laughter floods and fills The song of spring — awakened rills, And unseen harpers walk the hills, Along the mountains' purple ledge The Slice arise from fern and sedge To dance upon the day-light's edge. Doolittle, Hilda (Mrs. Aldington, "H. D.") Sea Garden Houghton One of the most important in the so-called Imagist group. OREAD. Whirl up, sea — Whirl your pointed pines. Splash your great pines On our rocks. Hurl your green over us — Cover us with your pools of fir. Daly, Thomas Augustine Carmina Lane Madrigali McKay S.ongs of Wedlock Philadelphia Poet of the Italian and Irish immigrant, of genial humor and wide humanity; also, of excellent technique in standardized forms. MIA CARLOTTA. Giuseppe, da barber, he gotta da cash He gotta da clo'es an' da bigga mustache, He gotta da seely young girls for da "mash," But notta — You bat my life, notta Carlotta I gotta. — In Carmina. KITTY'S GRADUATION. Dublin Alley jisht was crazy, jubilation was the rule, Chewsday week whin Kitty Casey won the honors at the school. Shure the neighbors had been waiten, all impatient of delay, For to see her graduatin' on that most important day. Eddication is a power, an' we owned with one accord Casey's girl's the swatest flower ever blossomed in the ward, Whin, wid dhress white as the daisy, but wid cheeks that shamed the rose, We beheld wee Kitty Casey in her graduation clo'es. — In Carmina. Dargan, Olive Tilford Pathflower and Other Poems Scribner The Cycle's Rim.... Scribner's A facile poet, dividing her attentions among the lyric, the sonnet and the poetic drama. Her thought is complex and elusive, the form very finished. ON BOSWORTH FIELD. Here, Richard, didst thou fall, caparisoned With kingdoms of thy lust; And here wouldst lie, by Fame's bent gleaners shunned, But came unto thy dust A swaggerer, perdy ! Who cried "A horse, a horse !" and straight Thou wert abroad on kingly feet To tread eternity — In The Pathflower. Davies, Mary Carolyn The Drums in Our Street Macmillan One of the youngest poe^s, who makes vivid tran- scripts of scenes and moods, in the inadvertent meth- od, and with a music of their own. AMERICA 1917-18. A nation goes adventuring! With new and shining mail, A nation goes adventuring To seek the Holy Grail. A nation leaves its money-bags, Its firesides safe and warm, To ride about the windy world And keep the weak from harm. A nation goes adventuring, With heart that will not quail, God grant it, on some hard-won dawn, Sight of the Holy Grail. Davis, Fannie Stearns (Mrs. Gifford) Myself and I Macmillan Crack o' Dawn Macmillan The poetry of Mrs. Gifford is as whimsical as it is original; as feminine as it is free. She is at home in standardized forms. SOULS. My soul goes clad in gorgeous things, Scarlet and gold and blue, And at her shoulder sudden wings Like long flames flicker through. And she is swallow-fleet, and free From mortal 1 bonds and bars. She laughs, because eternity Blossoms for her with stars! folk who scorn my stiff gray gown, My dull and foolish face, Can ye not see my soul flash down, A singing flame through space? And folk, whose earth-stained looks I hate, Why may I not divine Your souls, that must be passionate, Shining and swift, as mine? — In Myself and I. Dickinson, Emily The Single Hound Little "She was not daily-bread. She was star-dust." — Martha Dickson Bianchi. The Sea said "Come" to the Brook, The Brook said "Let me grow!" The Sea said "Then you will be a Sea — 1 want a Brook, Come now!" Erskine, John The Shadowed Hour Lyric Pub. Co. Poet of eld virtues and beauties in values of to- day. From YOUTH DYING. Ye who love youth, bring tears and aching hearts; For now the dark hour calls and youth departs, Where the red scythe swings_ close o'er crowded fieMs And stroke by stroke the vivid moment yields Our bravest, our most beautiful, our most loved. I,et them, die and pass and be forgot, Our grey die, our wrath, but, perish not The justice-loving, the crusading heart, This will of youth to take the righteous part. Ficke, Arthur Davison The Man on the Hilltop Kennerley Sonnets of a Portrait-Painter. ...Kennerley A scholarly poet, seeking his subjects in many places and expressing himself with tempered orig- inality. TO A CHILD— TWENTY YEARS HENCE. You shall remember dimly, Through mists of far-away, Her whom, our lips set grimly, We carried forth to-day. But when in days hereafter, Unfolding time shall bring Knowledge of love and laughter And trust and triumphing, — Then from some face the fairest, From some most joyous breast, Garner what there is rarest And happiest and best. **■»*» And all the mists shall perish That have between you moved. You shall see her you cherish; And love, as we have loved. — In The Man on the Hilltop. Fletcher, John Gould Goblins and Pagodas Houghton Japanese Prints Four Seas A distinguished representative of the Imagist group of poets, — and a poet, wherever he is classed ! From BLUE SYMPHONY. O old pagodas of my soul, how you glittered across green trees! Blue and cool: Blue, tremulously, Blow faint puffs of smoke Across sombre pools, And damp green smell of rotted wood: And a heron that cries from out the water. — In Goblins and Pagodas. Foster, Jeanne Robert Neighbors of Yesterday.. Sherman, French A poet of indelible nativeness who seeks to trace the soul of the Adirondack country-folk; a promising poet. From THE OLD SITTING ROOM. There were two pictures hung upon the wall, One was called "Mercy at the Wicket Gate," The other, "Contemplation"; and beneath this one There ran the stately psalm: "When I remember The heavens — the work of Thy fingers, The sun, the moon and the stars, Which Thou has ordained, What is man Idiat Thou art mindful of him, Or the Son of Man that Thou visitest him?" The painted clock tick-tocks the quiet hours, The gay rag carpet hides the knotty floors, We listen 'to the even rise and fall Of father's voice lost in a mellow tale Of noble wars and young blood's chivalry. Over us "Mercy at the Wicket Gate" And "Contemplation" look out to the stars Beyond the mountains, and we are at peace With God and man in our old sitting room. Frost, Robert North of Boston Holt Mountain Interval Holt A subtle versifier and a master of phychology. His method combines objective narrative with closely in- dented spiritual values. His line defies standards, and breathes a new mystic music. Is this a prophecy? THE PASTURE. I'm going out to clean the pasture spring; I'll only stop to rake the leaves away (And wait to watch the water clear, I may) : I sha'n't be gone long. — You come too. T*m going out to fetch the little calf That's standing by the mother. It's so young, It totters when she licks it with her tongue. I sha'n't be gone long. — You come too. — In North of Boston. Garrison, Theodosia The Joy of Life Kennerley The Earth Cry Kennerley The Dreamers, and Other Poems....Doran A simple homeiike-ness (that covers a fine tech- nique) and a joyful awareness of life, together with an inspiring sense of conquest, distinguish the work of this poet. ONE FIGHT MORE. Now, think you, Life, I am defeated quite? More than a single battle shall be mine Before I yield the sword and give the sign And turn, a crownless outcast, to the night. Wounded, and yet unconquered in the fight, I wait in silence till the day may shine Once more upon my strength, and all the line Of your defenses break before my might. Mine be the warrior's blood who, stricken sore, Lies in his quiet chamber till he hears Afar the clash and clang of arms, and knows The cause he lived for calls to him once more And straightway rises, whole and void_ of fears, And armed, turns him singing to his foes. —In The Earth Cry. Griffith, William Loves and Losses of Pierrot Shores City Pastorals White Poet of airy fancy and lilting movement. RECONCILIATION. When she came back, my heart had found The secret spring; The gates of heaven made no sound In opening. Pawn — and the sable butterflies So black, so black! Were as a rainbow in the skies, When she came back. — In Love and Losses of Pierrot. Guiney, Louise Imogen Happy Ending- Houghton A poet of fine moods and melodious lines. WHEN ON THE MARGE OF EVENING. When on the marge of evening the last bhie light is broken, An.i winds of dreamy odor are loosened from afar, Or when my lattice opens, before the lark hath spoken. On dim laburnum-blossoms, and morning's dying star, I think of thee (oh mine the more if other eyes be sleeping!) Whose greater noonday splendors the many share and see, While sacred and forever, some perfect law is keeping The late, the early twilight, alone and sweet for me. Guiterman, Arthur The Laughing Muse Harper The Mirthful Lyre Harper A poet of extraordinary cleverness and command of poetic technique, but it is not to be forgotten that "Life" (for which paper he frequently writes) is not all of life to him. From HILLS IN MIRTHFUL LYRE. I never loved your plains! — Your gentle valleys, Your drowsy country lanes And pleached alleys. I want my hills! — the trail That scorns the hollow, — Up, up the ragged shale Where few will follow, Up, over wooded crest And mossy boulder With strong thigh, heaving chest, And swinging shoulder. * * * * * How pure, at vesper-time, The far beHs chiming — God, give me hills to climb, And strength for climbing! (Copyright by Harper & Bros.) Hagedorn, Hermann Poems and Ballads Macmillan The Great Maze, and the Heart of Youth Macmillan Hymn of Free Peoples Macmillan This poet was already highly acknowledged before the gigantic drama of the World War awoke him to the greatest fervor of patriotism. The following poem was written near the close of the war. TO THE MAKERS OF SONG. Surely the time for making songs has come Now that the spring is in the air again! Trees blossom though men bleed; and after rain The robins hop; and soon the bees will hum. Long was the winter, long our Hps were dumb, Long under snow our loyal dreams have lain. Surely the time for making songs has come Now that the Spring is in the air again! The Spring! — with bugles and the rumbling cTrum ! Oh, builders of high music out of pain, Now is the time with singing to make vain The boast of kings in Pandemonium! Surely the time for making songs has come! — In Fifes and Drums. Published by Doran. Johnson, Robert Underwood Poems Century Co. Songs of War and Peace Bobbs-Merrill Poet of civic righteousness and classic phrase. From EMBATTLED FRANCE. And when beside the Marne's red tide — a lioness at bay — She gave September unto Mars to make him holiday, She saved with hers our kindred soil three thousand miles away. ***** And when Hate's last far crop is part, sown broad- cast by the blind, The memory of her chivalry shall stir in humankind A Jove akin to bridal love — the passion of the mind. — By permission from Poems of War and Peace, by Robert Underwood Johnson. Published by thei Author. Jones, Thomas S., Jr. The Rose-Jar Mosher The Voice in the Silence Mosher In these poems the essence of beauty is distilled from the flowers of sorrow and remembrance. The very fragrance of the rose-jar is about them, the grace of Venice glass in their form. DUSK AT SEA. To-night eternity alone is near; The sea, the sunset, and the darkening blue; Within their shelter is no space for fear, Only the wonder that such things are true. The thought of you is like the dusk at sea — Space and wide freedom and old shores left far; The shelter of a vast immensity Sealed by the sunset and the evening star. —In The Voice in the Silence. Kemp, Harry The Crv of Youth Kennerley A poet who is full of the fighting spirit, but occa- sionally has a mood like the following. JOSES, THE BROTHER OF JESUS. Joses, the brother of Jesus, plodded from day to day With never a vision within him to glorify his clay; Joses, the brother of Jesus, was one with the heavy clod, But Christ was the soul of rapture, and soared, like the lark, with God. Joses, the brother of Jesus, was only a worker in wood, And he never could see the glory that Jesus, his brother, could. "Why stays he not in the work-shop?" he often usea to complain, "Sawing the Lebanon cedar, imparting to woods- their stain? Why must he go thus roaming, forsaking my father's trade, While hammers are busily sounding, and there is gain to be made?" Thus ran the mind of Joses, apt with plummet and rule, And deeming whoever surpassed him either a knave or a foot, — For he never walked with the prophets in God's great garden of bliss — And of all mistakes of the ages, the saddest, methinks, was this: To have such a brother as Jesus, to speak with him day by day, But never to catch the vision that glorified his clay. Kilmer, Joyce Trees and Other Poems Doran Main Street and Other Poems Doran Memorial Edition of Works Doran The Great War found one of its most shining marks in the person of the young poet whose sincere and unaffected poems had a wide appeal. PRAYER OF A SOLDIER IN FRANCE. My shoulders ache beneath my pack, (Lie easier, Cross, upon His back.) I march with feet that burn and smart, (Tread, Holy Feet, upon my heart.) Men shout at me who may not speak, (They scourged Thy back and smoke Thy cheek.) T may not lift a hand to clear My eyes of salty drops that sear, Then shall my fickle soul forget Thine Agony of Bloody Sweat?) My rifle hand is stiff and numb, (From Thy pierced palm red rivers come.) Lord, Thou didst suffer more for me Than all the hosts of land and sea, So let me render back again This millionth of Thy gift. Amen. —Joyce Kilmer. Poems, essays and letters with mem- oir by Robert C. Holliday. Copyrighted 1918. George IT. Doran Co., publishers. Knowles, Frederic Lawrence Love Triumphant Estes On Life's Stairway Estes Well-known as an anthologist as well as a poet of distinction. ON A FLY-LEAF OF BURNS' SONGS. These are the best of him, Pathos and jest of him; Earth holds the rest of him. Passions were strong in him, — Pardon the wrong in him; Hark to the song in him! — Each little lyrical Grave or satirical Musical miracle! — In On Life's Stainvay. Lee, Agnes The Sharing Sherman, French Spontaneity and delicacy distinguish the work of this poet — an essentially feminine poet with swift in- terpretations of beauty and life. PEACE. Suddenly bells and flags! Suddenly — door to door, Tidings! Can we believe, We who were used to war? Soon where the shrapnel fell Petals shall wake and stir. Look — she is here, she lives! Beauty has died for her. — Printed in "Poetry," a magazine of verse, Dec. 1918. Le Gallienne, Richard New Poems Lane The Lonely Dancer Lane A poet voicing the heart of the evanescent and the eternal pathos of life. His satisfying technique makes us wonder whether we may not still have a Greek among us. TO A BIRD AT DAW.X. All my life until this day, And all my life until I die — All joy and sorrow of the way, Seem calling yonder in the sky; And there is something the song saith That makes me unafraid of death. Voice of man's heart and of God's sky — I!ut O you make so deep a thing Of joy, I dare not think of pain Until I hear you sing again. — In The Lonely Dancer. Lindsay, Vachel General William Booth Macmillan The Congo Macmillan The Chinese Nightingale Macmillan An American folk-poet of daring originality and magical rhythmic sense. THE UNPARDONABLE SIN. This is the sin against the Holy Ghost: — To speak of bloody power as right divine, And call on God to guard each vile chief's house, And for such chiefs, turn men to wolves and swine: — To go forth killing in White Mercy's name, Making the trenches stink with spattered brains, Tearing the nerves and arteries apart, Sowing with flesh the unreaped golden plains. In any Church's name, to sack fair towns, And turn each home into a screaming sty, To make the little children fugitive, And have their mothers for a quick death cry, — This is the sin against the Holy Ghost: This is the sin no purging can atone: — To send forth rapine in the name of Christ: — To set the face, and make the heart a stone. — In The Congo. Lowell, Amy Sword Blades and Poppy Seed.Macmillan Men, Women and Ghosts Macmillan A consistent and brilliant Imagist with an exquisite sense of detail. A good story-teller, scenting out dramatic situations. HOAR FROST. In the cloud-gray mornings I heard the herons flying; And when I came into my garden, My silken outer-garment Trailed over withered leaves. A dried leaf crumbles at a touch, But I have seen many Autumns With herons blowing like smoke Across the sky. — From Chinorseries. Pub. in "Others" for July, 1916. Mackaye, Percy Uriel and Other Poems Macmillan The Present Hour Macmillan One of our most eminent interpreters of American Kfe, not only in unusual verse, but in pageant and poetic drama. FRANCE. Half artist and half anchorite, Part siren and part Socrates, Her face — alluring and yet recondite — Smiled through her salons and academies. lightly she wore her double mask, Till sudden, at war's kindling spark, Her inmost self, in shining mail and casque, Blazed to the world her single soul — Jeanne d' Arc ! — In The Present Hour. Markham, Edwin The Shoes of Happiness Doubleday Lincoln and Other Poems Doubleday A poet of April lightness and also of tempestuous power. "The world's greatest poet of the social pas- sion," said Alfred Russell Wallace. As to form, he is master of an art that conceals art. OUTWITTED. He drew a circle that shut me out — Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout. But Love and I had the wit to win: We drew a circle that took him in. — In The Shoes of Happiness. From THE ANGELUS. God is more pleased by some sweet human use Than by the learned book of the recluse; Sweeter are comrade kindnesses to Him Than the high harpings of the Seraphim; More than white incense circling to the dome Is a fieM well-furrowed, or a nail sent home. More than the hallelujahs of the choirs Or hushed adorings by the altar fires, Is a loaf well kneaded, or a room swept clean With light-heart love thaat finds no labor mean. — In Lincoln and Other Poems. Masters, Edgar Lee Spoon River Anthology Macmillan The Great Valley Macmillan Toward the Gulf Macmillan An astute observer whose habitual satire is some- times touched with the white fire of faith and ecstasy. A chronicler of the middle-west American small town, powerfully emphasizing the harshest features. ANNE RUTLEDGE. Out of me unworthy and unknown The vibrations of deathless music; "With malice toward none, with charity for all." Out of me the forgiveness of mil'lions towards millions, And the beneficent face of a nation Shining with justice and truth. I am Anne Rutledge who sleep beneath these weeds, Beloved in life of Abraham Lincoln, Wedded to him, not through union, But through separation. Bloom forever, O Republic, From the dust of my bosom! — In Spoon River Anthology. Mifflin, Lloyd Complete Sonnets Oxford The Slopes of Helicon Estes The Fields of Dawn Oxford A very expert' sonneteer. Poet of ordered move- ment and calm outlook. From EPIGAEA. April is coming and I surely hear On all the mossy slopes and woodland dells, That elfin music, delicately clear, From coral clusters of arbutus bells. Precious thou wast in days that young love gave When sight of thee could make my bosom thrill; Oh, might some friend but plant thee on my grave To tell the woods, thy lover loves thee still 1 . — In The Slopes of Helican. Millay, Edna St. Vincent Renascence and Other Poems. .Kennerley Lovers of poetry will watch with interest the work of this young author whose first book struck so strong and original a note. From WHEN THE YEAR GROWS OLD. Oh, beautiful at nightfall The soft spitting snow! And beautiful the bare boughs Rubbing to and fro! But the roaring of the fire, And the warmth of fur, And the boiling of the kettle Were beautiful to her! I cannot but remember When the year grows old — October — November — How she disliked the cold ! Mitchell, Ruth Comfort The Night Court and Other Poems Century A poet who presents in vivid verse varying phases of American life of to-day. POST-GRADUATE. If she had lived a little while ago She would be wearing tranquil caps of lace; Withdrawing gently to her quiet place, Sighing, remotely, at the world's drab woe. To-day she fronts it squarely as her foe, Not from the inglenook but face to face, Marching to meet it, stoutly keeping pace, Armored in wisdom, strong to overthrow. This is the world she always understood: The world in terms of home. Set free to flower (Unhindered now, her own brood long a-wing) In broader, air-embracing motherhood; Calm with the years and ardent with the hour, — Indian Summer with the urge of Spring. — In The Night Court and Other Verse. Monroe, Harriet You and I Macmillan Miss Monroe had already established herself as a poet in classic form before she founded her magazine Poetry — a Magazine of Verse. The following is one of her- most charming bits of short verse. LOVE SONG. I love my life, but not too well To give it to thee like a flower, So it may pleasure thee to dwell Deep in its perfume but an hour. I love my life, but not too well. I love my life, but not too well To sing it note by note away, So to thy soul the song may terl The beauty of the desolate day. I love my life, but not too well. I love my life, but not too well To cast it like a cloak on thine, Against the storms that sound and swell Between thy lonely heart and mine. I love my life, but not too well. — In You and I. Moody, William Vaughn Complete Poems and Dramas, 2 vols Houghton A poet o£ tofty imagination, imperishable beauty of expression, spirituality, intense patriotism, deep-dyed Americanism. One of the brightest stars in America's crown of poets. From THE DAGUERROTYPE. I think these eyes foresee, Now in their unawakened time, Their mother's pride in me, And dream even now, unconsciously, Upon each soaring peak and sky-hung lea You pictured I should climb. Broken premonitions come, Shapes, gestures visionary, Not as once to maiden Mary The manifest angel with fresh lilies came Intelligibly calling her by name; But vanishingly, dumb, Thwarted and bright and wild, As heralding a sin-defiled Earth-cumbered, blood-begotten, passionate man-child, Who yet should be a trump of mighty caH lilown in the gates of evil kings To make them fall; Who yet should be a sword of flame before The soul's inviolate door To beat away the clang of hellish wings; Who yet should be a lyre Of high unquenchable desire In the day of little things. — By special arrangement with Houghton-Mifflin Co. Morgan, Angela The Hour Has Struck....The Aster Press Utterance Baker and Taylor Forward, March ! Lane Impassioned aspirations, flaming in verse that flows like streams of lava. Her subjects move from the highest spheres to the kitchen stairs. The form is loosely constructed, but is not "free verse." From KINSHIP. I am aware, As I go commonly sweeping the stair, Doing my part of the every-day care — Human and simple my lot and my share — T am aware of a marvelous thing: Voices that murmur and ethers that ring In the far stellar spaces where cherubim sing. I am aware of the passion that pours Down the channels of fire through Infinity's doors; Forces terrific, with melody shod, Music that mates with the pulses of God. I am aware of the glory that runs From the core of myself to the core of the suns. Bound to the stars by invisible chains, Blaze of eternity now in my veins, Seeing the rush of ethereal rains IT ere in the midst of the every-day air — - I am aware. — In The Hour Has Struck. Neihardt, John G. The Stranger at the Gate Kennerley The Song of Hugh Glass Macmillan The Quest... Macmillan A poet of eager and aspiring themes and good workmanship. One of the first to avail himself of the epic theme of American pioneering. Onward, outward I must go Where the mighty currents flow. Home is anywhere for me On this purple-tented sea. Star and Wind and Sun my brothers, Ocean one of many mothers. Onward under sun and star Where the weird adventures are! Never port shall lift for me — I am Wind and Sky and Sea! — In The Quest. Norton, Grace Fallow The Sister of the Wind Houghton Little Grey Songs from St. Joseph's Houghton Roads Houghton The accent of Miss Norton's poetry is sad, poignant and beautiful as a rainy day is beautiful. There's one that I once loved so much I am no more the same, I give thanks for that transforming touch. I tell you not his name. He has become a sign to me For flowers and for fire. For song he is a sign to me And for the broken lyre. — In Roads. Oppenheim, James Songs of the New Age Century Co. War and Laughter Century Co. Book of Self Knopf One voice from the philosophical idealism of our time. The forms he chooses are of the so-called Free Verse style. THE LONELY CHILD. Do you think, my boy, that when I put my arms around you, To still your fears, That it is I that conquer the dark and the lonely night? .My arms seem to wrap love about you, As your Kttle heart fluttering at my breast Throbs love through me .... But, dear one, it is not your father: Other arms are about you, drawing you near, And drawing the Earth near, and the Night near, And your father near .... Some day you shall lie alone at nights, As now your father lies: And in those arms, as a leaf fallen on a tranquil stream, Drift into dreams and healing sleep. — In Songs of the New Age. O'Sheel, Shaemus The Blossomy Bough Franklin Press The Light Feet of Goats.... Franklin Press A light touch and a delicate mood are characteris- tics of this poet. A weaver of verbal charms. HE WHOM A DREAM HATH POSSESSED. He whom a dream hath possessed knoweth no more of doubting, For mist and the blowing of winds and the mouth- ing of words he scorns; Not the sinuous speech of school he hears, but a knightly shouting, And never comes darkness down, yet he greeteth a million scorns. Peabody, Josephine Preston (Mrs. Marks) The Singing Leaves Houghton The Singing Man Houghton Harvest Moon Houghton A flaming idealist with a happy turn for allegory and illustration. She has a delicate, charming way of her own; the technique is exquisitely individual. Bet- ter known, perhaps, for her poetic dramas. From YOU, FOUR WALLS, W.ALL NOT IN MY HEART. You, Four Walls, Wall not in my heart! When the lovely night-time falls All so wclcomely. Blinding, sweet hearthfire, Light of heart's desire, Blind not, blind not me! Unto them that weep apart, — 10 While you glow, within, Wreckt, despairing kin, — Dark with misery: — Do not blind my heart! — In The Singing Man. Piper, Edward Ford Barbed Wire and Other Poems Midland Press One of the vital vernacular poets of the Middle West and the plains. From THE PLAINSMEN. Men of the older, gentler soil 1 , Loving the things that their fathers wrought — Worn old fields of their fathers' toil, Scarred old hills where their fathers fought — Loving their land for each ancient trace, [.ike a mother dear for her wrinkled face, Such as they never can understand The way we have loved you, young, young land! Born of a free, world-wandering race, Little we yearned o'er an oft-turned sod. What did we care for the fathers' place, Having ours fresh from the hand of God? Who feared the strangeness or wiles of you When from the un reckoned miles of you Thrilling the wind with a sweet command, Youth unto youth catted, young, young land? Reese, Lizette Woodworth A Quiet Road Mosher A Wayside Lute Mosher A Handful of Lavender Mosher The maker of one faultless sonnet and many lovely lyrics. An almost impeccable technician; not wide in appeal, but poignant in effects. THAT DAY YOU CAME). As after song some snatch of tune Lurks still in grass or bough, So, somewhat of the end o' June l.urks in each weather now. The young year sets the buds astir, The old year strips the trees; But ever in my lavender I hear the brawling bees. — In A Handful of Lavender. Rice, Cale Young Collected Plays and Poems, 2 vols Doubleday Trails Sunward Century Songs to A. H. R Century A voluminous poet who celebrates the meanings and memories of many lands and sometimes reaches the height of a poignant appeal, as in the poem below. BY THE CH'EN GATE. At dusk as wiM geese winged their aery way Upon the sunset over proud Peking, To where, darker than jade, the mountains lay, Set in the misty gold of dying day, I stood upon the mighty Tartar wall By the great-towered gate, the Ch'en, and felt The yellow myriads move to it and melt , As in some opiate sleep's imagining. And slowly through there came a caravan Of swinging camels out of far Thibet, Upon their tawny flanks the foam still wet And in their eyes the desert's ancient span. What dreams they bore to me I now forget, But through me rang the name of Kubla Khan. ■ — From Collected Plays and Poems. Riley, James Whitcomb Complete Poems Bobbs-Merrill The poet well-beloved. Best known for his poems of child life in Hoosier dialect. A PARTING GUEST. What delightful hosts are they — Life and Love! Lingeringly I turn away, • This late hour, yet glad enough They have not withheld from me Their high hospitality. So, with face lit with delight And all gratitude, I stay Yet to press their hands and say, "Thanks. — So fine a time! Good night." Rittenhouse, Jessie B. — The Door of Dreams Houghton In flawless verse and the purest spirit, she touches various love-themes. Each poem is a well-carved gem. ' DEBTS. My debt to you, Beloved, Is one I cannot pay In any coin of any realm On any reckoning day; For where is he shall figure The debt, when all is said, To one who makes you dream again When all the dreams were dead? Or where is the appraiser Who shall the claim compute Of one who makes you sing again When all the songs were mute? Robinson, Corinne Roosevelt One Woman to Another Scribner The earnest heart and full mind are expressed in this poetry. THE POET. The Poet should be one who sings, Whose rhythmic music lilts and rings With images inspired; And he must be the Seer who sees Beyond his utmost melodies, Until, with soul afired, He brings the waiting world the word That only Seer and Singer heard! — In One Woman to Another, and Other Poems. Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons. By permis- sion of the publishers. Robinson, Edwin Arlington Children of the Night Scribner t The Town Down the River Scribner Merlin: A Poem Macmillan A poet characterized by brilliant analysis of person- ality in restrained and vital poetry. He is master of a cleverly impeccable blank verse which is rich in subtle philosophy. He has been called an American Browning. From MERLIN: A POEM. The Man who sees May go on seeing till the immortal flame That lights and lures him folds him in its heart, And leaves of what there was of him to die An atom of inhospitable dust That love and hate alike must hide away. Sandberg, Carl Chicago Poems Holt Cornhuskers Holt A valorous realist who makes a swaggering adven- ture of poetry, but cannot help being tremendously vital and often very musical. A clarion voice from Chicago. Sandburg's social spirit is a living fire; see, for instance, the swift stroke from the shoulder in the poem below. THEY WILL SAY Of my city the worst that men will ever say is this: You took little children away from the sun and the dew, And the glimmers that played in the grass under the great sky, And the reckless rain; you put them between walls, To work, broken and smothered, for bread and wages. To eat dust in their throats and die empty-hearted, For a little handful of pay on a few Saturdav nights. — In Chicago Poems. 11 Schauffler, Robert Haven Scum o' the Earth Houghton A poet of modern, democratic American verse. From SCUM O' THE EARTH. Newcomers all from the eastern seas, Help us incarnate dreams like these. Forget and forgive that we did you wrong. Help us to father a nation, strong In the comradeship of an equal birth, In the wealth of the richest bloods on earth. Scollard, Clinton Poems Houghton The Vale of Shadows and Other Verses of the Great War White Ballads, Romantic and Patriotic White A lcng career in verse-making gives Mr. Scollard a great command of the resources of poetry. GENNESAR. Bright 'neath the Syrian sun, dim 'neath the Syrian star, Thus lieth Galilee's sea, sapphirine lake Gennesar; Girdled by mourrtains that range purple and proud to their crests, Bearing the burden of dreams, — glamour of old, — on their breasts. Just one white glint of a sail dotting the brooding expanse; Beaches that sparkle and gleam, ripples that darkle and dance; Grandeur and beauty and peace welded year-long into one Under the Syrian star, under the Syrian sun! And over all and through all memories sweet of TT is name, Kindling the past with their right, touching the future with flame! — In Lyrics and Legends of Christmas. Seeger, Alan Poems Scribner's A singer whom battle preserved in immortal youth and whose songs of courage and love gave pr« mise of high achievement. I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple-blossoms fill the air — I have a rendezvous with Death When Spring brings back blue days and frur. — In Poems of Alan Seeger. Copyright by Charles Scribner's Sons. By permission of the publishers. Shepard, Odell I * A Lonely Flute Houghton A maker of quiet-toned, well finished lvrics. This poet's flute has a sweet melody, thin and delicate. EVENING ROAD SONG. It's a long road and a steep road And a weary road to climb. The air bites chill on the windy hill. At home it is firelight time. The sunset pales . . . along the vales The cottage candles shine And twinkle through the early dew. Thank God that one is mine! And dark and late she'll watch and wait Bevond the last long mile For the weary beat of homing feet With her wise and patient smile. Smith, Marion Couthoy The Final Star White A strong spirit and a patriotic one is speaking in this book. From OUR FLAG IN FRANCE. Up with the flag in France, lads, up with the flag in France! As the dawn-rays rising oversea, so be its bright ad- vance ; The dawn rays flaming on the sea, the morning round the world — Long and dark was the night to us, while the stars and stripes were furled! * * * * , * Fight for the world's defense, lads, as your fathers fought before, For truth and right against ruthless might, for free- dom's cause once more! Though the way be long and the hazard strong, for glory or mischance, Up with the flag in France, lads, up with the flag in France ! Smith, May Riley Sometime and Other Poems Dntton A poet beloved for a few beautiful and human poems. MARCH. In the dark silence of her chambers low, March works out sweeter things than mortals know. TTer noiseless looms ply on with busy care, Weaving the fine cloth that the flowers wear. She sews the seams in violets' queer hood, And paints the sweet arbutus of the wood. Out of a bit of sky's delicious blue She fashions hvacinths, and harebells, too. * * * * * Come, early risers! Come, anemone, Mv pale wind flowers! cheerily calls she. ***** What matter, then, that wild the March-winds blow? Bear patiently her lingering frost and snow! For all the sweet beginnings of the spring Beneath her cold brown breast lie fluttering. Spicer, Anne Higginson The Last Crusade White A poet with a wide range of thought and sympathy and a technique adventurous within bounds. THE HEART OF LINCOLN. Still heart, do you thrill, heart? Heart, do you beat again? Thrill and beat at the marching feet Of America's young men? Splendid heart, unended heart, Heart of our prayers and songs, Beat from the dust, as well you must. At the injured peoples' wrongs. Weeping heart, unsleeping heart, Somewhere beyond the grave Do you not throb at every sob Wrung from a fettered slave? Oh grave heart, and brave heart, Heart of our Lincoln, today Live in the truth and the splendid youth Of our young men marching away! Sterling, George Testimony of the Suns Robertson The Wine of Wizardry Robertson Beyond the Breakers Robertson "Poet of antiquity, infinity, and immensity; of trans- lunary and infra-mundane imagination," says F,d\vin Markham. From THE COMING SINGER. The Veil before the Mystery of things Shall stir for him with iris and with light; Chaos shall have no terror in his sight, NVr earth a bond to chafe his urgent wings. With sandals beaten from the crowns of kings 12 Shall he tread down the altars of their night, And stand with Silence on her breathless height To hear what song the star of morning sings. Teasdale, Sara S Rivers to the Sea Macmillan Love Songs Macmillan A poet of flawless technique and great simplicity of form; she uses for the most part themes of love. She flashes forth moods, distilling June into the rose. WOOD SONG. I heard a wood thrush in the dusk Twirl three notes and make a star— My heart that walked with bitterness Came back from very far. Three shining notes were all he had, »And yet they made a starry call — I caught life back against my breast And kissed it, scars and all. — In Love Songs. Thomas, Edith M. A Winter Swallow Scribner Fair Shadowland Houghton The Inverted Torch Houghton The Flower from the Ashes Mosher After many years of careful practice in verse- making and the publication of some fifteen volumes of poetry, Miss Thomas heard the call of the World War. Then, in her hands, "the thing became a trum- pet," to sound forth the meanings of the era, as the poet-seer saw them. THE VOICE OF THE LAWS. This from that soul incorrupt whom Athens had doomed to the death, When Crito brought promise of freedom: "Vainly thou spendest thy breath! Dost remember the wild Corybantes? feel they the knife or the rod? Heed they the fierce summer sun, the frost, or win- f erly flaws? — If any entreat them, they answer, 'We hear but the flutes of the God!' "So even am I, O my Crito! Thou pleadest a losing cause! Thy words are as sound without import — I hear but the Voice of the haws, And, know thou! the Voice of the Laws is to me as the flutes of the God." Thus spake that soul incorrupt. And wherever, since hemlock was quaffed, A man has stood forth without fear — has chosen the darH deep draught — Has taken the lone one way, nor the path of dishonor has trod, Behold! he, too, hears but the Voice of the Laws, the flutes of the God. — In The Dancers. Pub. by Badger. Torrence, Ridgely The House of a Hundred Lights Small, Maynard In non-dramatic form he is not a voluminous writer, but everywhere is one of radiant quality. He never writes a" line that is not an exquisite distillation of poetry. EVENSONG. Beauty calls and gives no warning, Shadows rise and wander on the day, In the twilight, in the quiet evening We shall rise and smile and go away. Over the falling leaves Freezes the sky, . It is the season grieves, Not you, not I. i All our springtime, all our summers We have kept the longing warm within, Now we leave the after-comers To attain the dreams we did not win. Oh we wakened, Sweet, and had our birth, And that's the end of earth. And we 1 ave toiled and laughed and found the light And that's the end of night. Towne, Charles Hanson Beyond the Stars Kennerley A Quiet Singer Kennerley Today and Tomorrow Doran A fine poet who, among the other Vigilantes, con- secrated his poetic abilities to the service of his coun- try. The following passage comes from one of his earlier poems: He had been singing — but I had not heard his voice; He had been weaving lovely dreams of song, O many a morning long. But I, remote and far, Under an alien star, Listened to other singers, other birds, And other silver words. But does the skylark, singing sweet and clear, Beg the cold world to hear? Rather he sings for very rapture of singing, At dawn, or in the blue, mild Summer noon, Knowing that, late or soon, His wealth of beauty, and his high notes, ringing Above the earth, will make some heart rejoice. — In A Quiet Singer. Untermeyer, Louis Challenge Century These Times Holt A poet of brilliant, incisive intellect, interested in the life of to-day. Lo — to the battle-ground of life, Child, you have come, like a conquering shout, Out of a struggle— into strife; Out of a darkness — into doubt. Girt with the fragile armor of youth, Child, you must nde into endless wars, With the sword of protest, the buckler of truth, And a banner of love to sweep the stars. About you the world's despair will surge; Into defeat you must plunge and grope — Bo to the faltering an urge; Be to the hopeless years a hope! Be to the darkened world a flame; Be to its unconcern a blow — \ For out of its pain and tumult you came, And into its tumult and pain you go. — In Challenge. Upson, Arthur Selected Poems Mosher A rare poet whose early death cut short a promising career. EX LIBRIS. In an old book at even as I read Fast fading words adown my shadowy page, I crossed a tale of how, in other age. At Arqua, with his books around him, sped The word to Petrarch; and with noble head Bowed gently o'er his volume that sweet sage To Silence paid his willing seigniorage. And they who found him whispered, "He is dead!" Thus timely from old comradeships would I To Silence also rise. Let there be night, Stillness, and only these staid watchers by, And no light shine save my low study light — Lest of his kind intent some human cry Interpret not the Messenger aright. — In The City. Pub. by Macmillan. Van Dyke, Henry Poems Scribner A distinguished and well-known poet, using "classic" measures. 1.", From AN ANGLER'S, WISH. When tulips bloom in Union Square, And timid breaths of vernal air Co wandering down the dusty town Eike children lost in Vanity Fair; When every long unlovely row Of westward houses stands aglow, And leads the eyes toward sunset skies Beyond the hills where green trees grow: Then weary seems the street parade, And weary books, and weary trade; I'm only wishing to go a -fishing; For this the month of May was made. Wattles, Willard Lanterns in Gethsemane ......Dutton A devotional and naive poet the wellfcprings