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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..600dffa --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51212 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51212) diff --git a/old/51212-0.txt b/old/51212-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 72abdd1..0000000 --- a/old/51212-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1373 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Flag and Other Poems, by Amy Redpath Roddick - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Flag and Other Poems - -Author: Amy Redpath Roddick - -Release Date: February 14, 2016 [EBook #51212] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLAG AND OTHER POEMS *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - - - THE FLAG - - AND OTHER POEMS - - 1918 - - BY - - AMY REDPATH RODDICK - - (_All rights reserved_) - - Montreal - - JOHN DOUGALL & SON - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - - PAGE - -THE BRITISH LANDS 5 - -THE FLAG 7 - -ENGLAND’S OLDEST COLONY 9 - -IN FORT-BOUND METZ 11 - -THE CALM THAT COMES WITH YEARS 13 - -GOING WEST 15 - -PERFECT IN THY PROMISE 18 - -ARMAGEDDON 19 - -THE FAIRIES 20 - -THE SOLDIERS 21 - -NO TEARS 22 - -“MON REPOS” 22 - -“AS WE FORGIVE” 23 - -THE CREW 24 - -IN A TRAIN 25 - -THE BALLAD OF A BUGABOO 26 - -OUR ART 31 - -ON READING SOME IMAGIST VERSES 33 - -THE MIND OF THE MYSTIC 34 - -A MONTREAL LULLABY 35 - -L’ESPERANCE 36 - -MY LAKE 37 - -A SCIENTIFIC PUZZLE 38 - -THE GOOD OLD DAYS 40 - -AT LENNOX 41 - -THE FLOWER OF TRUE HAPPINESS 42 - -THE MOUNTAIN TOP 44 - -CHARITY 46 - - - - -THE BRITISH LANDS. - - - The tie that binds the British lands - Is never spun of tyrant’s might; - Of fair replies to just demands, - Of compromise whenever right - Is spun the fibre of its strands, - A mighty Empire to unite. - - A symbol is our gracious King - Of British unity of heart, - A simple man to whom we cling, - Of all good men the counterpart. - We sing to God to “Save the King,” - And mean thereby ourselves in part. - - The people of the British lands - Are masters of their future fate, - By effort of their mind and hands - They glorify their Empire State, - And, as the bud of thought expands, - Can make new laws by calm debate. - - The British Empire, may it be - The nucleus of that larger league, - Uniting every land and sea, - Eschewing wars and false intrigue, - May common sense and kindness be - The crowning glory of that league! - - - - -THE FLAG. - - - Canada! where is thy flag, - Welding race and race together? - Union Jack, that wondrous rag, - Dear to those who’ve trod the heather, - Dear to those who love the rose, - Blending Irish cross and nation - With the crosses of old foes - In a just and fair relation, - Bears no emblem of the men, - First to cross the stormy ocean, - Bringing faith and plough and pen, - First to know with deep emotion, - Canada! thy name, as home. - True, provincial arms commingle - On thy flag o’er ships that roam; - In their stead an emblem single, - Maple leaf of golden hue, - Would announce to all more proudly - Whence thy ships their anchors drew; - Would announce to all more loudly, - Canada! thy nation’s life; - And on land, when bells are ringing - To acclaim the end of strife, - When with joy each heart is singing; - Canada! is this thy flag? - Welding race and race together, - Waving from each roof and crag, - East and West, one nation ever! - - - - -ENGLAND’S OLDEST COLONY. - - - [A]Newfoundland is proud to be - England’s oldest colony! - Loving her dear motherland, - By her side she takes her stand, - Devon, Scotch and Irish stock, - Sturdy as their seagirt rock, - Leave their homes and leave their boats, - Don the khaki-coloured coats. - Newfoundland has fought and bled, - Far and wide her fame has spread, - Newfoundland is proud to be - England’s oldest colony! - - Nine fair sisters in one home, - With the North Pole on its dome, - Facing both the East and West, - And a friendly State abreast, - Smile upon the lonely one. - They have done as she has done, - Fought and bled in freedom’s cause, - Won like her the world’s applause. - Will she join her home to theirs? - No, her head in scorn she rears, - Newfoundland is proud to be - England’s oldest colony! - - But the offer’s most sincere; - And the offer’s always there; - Newfoundland may change her mind, - And in time she too may find, - Burdens shared are light to bear, - Triumphs shared are doubly dear, - She may gladly join the sheaf - Bound around by maple leaf, - Knowing well she still may boast, - Answering her sisters’ toast: - “Newfoundland is proud to be - England’s oldest colony!” - - [A] The name of “Newfoundland” is never pronounced by its inhabitants - or their neighbors of the Maritime Provinces with the accent on the - middle syllable, as is the usage elsewhere. It is pronounced as though - written “Newf’n’land,” with the principal stress on the last syllable. - - - - -IN FORT-BOUND METZ. - -July 26th, 1914. - - - Neat uniformed, with close cropped head and fierce moustache, - Near us they dined one July day in fort-bound Metz. - We could not catch their words; but we could see and feel - Their strong excitement, breaking forth, then held in check, - Then breaking forth afresh as some new health was drunk. - The joy, imprinted on their faces, spread to ours. - We laughed in turn as they; but knew not why we laughed. - It was indeed a merry meal in which we shared, - That July day, in fort-bound Metz. - Next day, in France, we were to know at what we laughed - With those large built, full blooded German men of rank, - For when we asked a grieving woman why she wept, - She sobbed: “Because the Germans will make war on France!” - - - - -THE CALM THAT COMES WITH YEARS. - - - I cannot write of turmoil, I cannot write of strife, - Long since has gone the passion, I used to think was life. - A calmness rests upon me, a calm I cannot break, - Though worlds are trembling round me and freedom is at stake. - - Because I have no sorrows, because my heart’s at rest, - I cannot weep with others, whose hearts are not so blest; - I tremble for no hero upon the fields of France, - I cannot curse the Nero who planned this gory dance. - - Though woman fast is winning her place in Council Halls, - By work where talent leads her, by work where mercy calls, - I feel no keen elation to know her triumph’s near, - A triumph most unselfish, a heavier weight to bear. - - The calm that rests upon me, the calm that comes with years, - Suggests that man’s impatience is the cause of most he fears, - Suggests that war’s upheaval is but the anvil clink, - The welding by the Forger of yet another link - In that great chain of progress that binds successive time, - From chaos on to order, and then to heights sublime! - - - - -GOING WEST. - - - A pulsing silence shrouds me round - Like waves one feels, but hears no sound, - Then slowly, as from realms above, - There come soft whispered words of love. - - And something presses on my heart, - Of my own self it seems a part, - So very close I feel--her head-- - And now I know she is not dead! - - I try to break the secret charm - That weighs upon my nerveless arm, - I want to hold my love so close - She will not wander whilst I doze. - - I think I fell asleep, - The silence seemed more deep, - I could not catch the beat - The noiseless waves repeat. - - Again there comes that soundless sound, - The heavy, ceaseless, rythmic pound. - Is it the throb of worlds alive? - Is it the hum of some near hive? - - My own tired pulse may be the cause - Of what is more like faint applause, - Of what might be a funeral drum - So muffled to be almost dumb. - - But no, that pressure on my heart - Reminds me, with a sudden dart - Of pain, so keen it seems to thrill, - That my dear love is by me still. - - And now I understand - The meaning of that band, - Her heart is beating time - In unison with mine. - - * * * * * - - Again those words of love I hear, - But now they are so very near, - They’re telling me of deeds I’ve done - And of the wished for cross I’ve won! - - So after all my life’s not lost, - Amidst that fiery holocaust, - I’ve done what I was meant to do, - What matter if the fight’s not through! - - My little love your head is pressed - Too close upon my burning breast, - And yet it seems, that while you press, - The pain is growing less and less. - - Perhaps I’m going west, - I’m tired, I want to rest, - My breathing’s slow and deep, - I’m sinking fast asleep-- - - * * * * * - - In shell tossed No Man’s Land they saw him, lying - Unconscious, smiling in his sleep, but dying-- - His broken arm hung limp, a mortal wound - Gaped wide above his heart, on which they found, - Tight pressed, the picture of his youthful bride, - Whose grave is swept by ocean’s restless tide. - - - - -PERFECT IN THY PROMISE. - - - Perfect in thy promise, as the bud unfolding, - Perfect in thyself, as rose fresh blown, - Ever gracious, all that’s pure and good upholding, - Perfect spirit, hast thou really flown? - - Must I spend alone the many, many morrows, - Void of blissful hopes together spanned, - Hopes of service in assuaging others’ sorrows, - Hopes of varied joys together planned? - - No, these heavy mourning weeds I’ll cast asunder, - Struggle through the clouds that wrap me round, - Close my ears to their unholy, fearsome thunder, - Spring anew to life from grief unbound. - - Perfect spirit, now I know that thou art near me; - In thy tender love I rest content, - Trusting in that love to cheer, and help, and steer me, - Till I too have climbed life’s steep ascent! - - - - -ARMAGEDDON. - - - The Armageddon of the ages, - In pent up wrath and fury rages, - And little souls like children cry, - And little souls are asking why. - - The Armageddon of the ages, - The Lord of all, in pity stages, - That little souls may grow in grace, - That little souls may know His face. - - The Armageddon of the ages, - Foretold by holy men and sages, - The last and greatest fight of all-- - When good shall win, and evil fall, - When nation shall clasp hands with nation - In universal federation! - - - - -THE FAIRIES. - - - Merrily the fairies march, - In and out, - Round about, - Where toadstools in magic row - Mark their course by moonlight glow. - In and out, - Round about, - Waving music with their wands, - Cheerful little vagabonds, - Knowing nought of care or duty, - Living but for play and beauty, - Dancing in the moonshine hours, - They will hide from sun and showers. - - No one seeks the fairies now, - They’re forgotten with our joys, - They’re forgotten with our toys, - No one seeks the fairies now. - - - - -THE SOLDIERS. - - - Sternly march the soldier men, - Straight ahead, - Where they’re led, - Ready for self-sacrifice, - Braving death in any guise. - Straight ahead, - Where they’re led, - Sternly march the splendid hosts, - Never flinching from their posts, - Facing frightful odds at first, - When o’er peaceful lands war burst, - Beating back the hated foe - With a strong united blow. - - Thinking of our soldier men - There’s no duty we will shirk, - Rain or shine will stop no work, - Thinking of our soldier men. - - - - -NO TEARS. - - - For a hero’s death, no tears! - He fought for lasting peace, - But everlasting peace he’s won; - It might be troubled if I wept. - - - - -“MON REPOS.” - - - “Mon Repos” he called our home, - Meaning his and mine. - He has gone, our home has gone; - But “Mon Repos” still shelters me. - - - - -“AS WE FORGIVE.”[B] - - - On Belgic dunes the sun is gayly shining - And little children can forget--and play; - A jolly band with smiles and arms entwining - Are running through the sands and lose their way. - - They stop their frolicking and rather weary - They chance upon a road where, looking round, - They see the perfect Son of gentle Mary - Resigned upon His cross though pierced and bound. - - At His dear feet, in prayer, they closely snuggle - And chant the words of Him they all adore, - But “trespasses” reminding them, they struggle - To finish, hesitate, can say no more. - - A step is heard, a presence felt that captures - The stammered words, and firmly all repeat - The Pater Noster to its end. What raptures! - Their hero King! they see and humbly greet. - - [B] Suggested by a pretty story of King Albert that has filtered - through from martyred Belgium. - - - - -THE CREW. - - - O’er the moving waters of the Horicon[C] - Comes a gentle breeze, - Throwing kisses to its ripples, - Flirting with the trees, - Blowing whiffs of scented clover, - Whiffs of sweetest peas. - - On the moving waters of the Horicon - Comes a red canoe, - Bearing Cupid, with an arrow - Pointed at the crew, - Sharing youthful dreams together, - In that red canoe! - - [C] “The Horicon,” meaning tail lake, is the Indian name given by - Cooper to Lake George. - - - - -IN A TRAIN. - - - A lonesome landscape, brown and grey, - And chilled with flakes of smutchy snow, - So grimly dull that every ray - Of setting sun forgets its glow; - - But in the train I sit with one. - Who clears my thoughts of wintry gloom; - She laughs!--and now a midday sun - Is coaxing summer flowers to bloom! - - - - -THE BALLAD OF A BUGABOO.[D] - - - In Aachen Town, in olden days, - There dwelt a demon beast, - Whose special prey was roysterers - Returning from a feast. - - By day, he lurked in caverns deep - Where sulphur waters boil, - And dreamt of evil men and deeds, - Whilst resting from his toil. - - By night he issued from the spring, - And those, who saw him, said: - “His body long and shaggy seemed - With oddly flattened head. - - His eyes burned like two fiery moons - That paled the Queen of Night, - And when he opened wide his mouth - His teeth gleamed sharp and white. - - His tail, which brushed the ground, was decked - With phosphorescent scales, - And yet his paws were like a bear’s - With long, protruding nails.” - - His head and legs were wreathed in chains, - Which rattled as he went - Along the narrow, winding streets - On pranks and mischief bent. - - He gambolled like a monstrous calf - Of breed unknown and strange, - And drunken men were filled with fear - Who happened on his range. - - His egress led along the drain, - Whence comes, from far below, - The boiling, seething sulphur stream - Whose waters ever flow. - - Before the large Bath House was built, - A wide canal was made - To hold this healing flood, and there, - Beneath the beech trees shade, - - The poorer women washed their clothes - Without a thought of fear; - Though echoes rattling through the drain - Announced the beast was near. - - They felt no fear, for demons shun - The honest light of day, - But as the night came stealing on - They were afraid to stay, - - Although the beast was never known - To take a single life, - Was never even known to touch - A child or maid or wife. - - He seldom either sought his prey - Before the midnight hour, - And then the haunts of vice and mirth - Around about he’d scour. - - Ah, woe betide! the jovial youth - Or greybeard steeped in shame, - Whose shuffling walk and glassy eye - Proclaim from whence he came. - - The demon beast with gliding gait - Would follow on his track, - With sudden spring would seize his prey - And hang upon his back. - - The more the victim fought and reeled, - The heavier hung the beast, - The more the victim cursed or prayed, - The closer clung the beast. - - The wretched man now sought his home - Beneath this awful load, - With beads of sweat upon his brow - He oft mistook the road. - - At last, at last he reached his goal, - Worn out by pain and fear, - And as he passed within his home-- - The beast would disappear. - - With rattling and with clanking chains - The demon gambolled off, - Avoiding church and crucifix, - To seek the sulphur trough; - - But if another maudlin man - There chanced upon his way, - Most gladly would he turn aside - To grapple yet more prey. - - Then moans and groans began afresh, - As this new victim found - He too must turn from wrong to right, - By sad repentance bound! - - [D] The Baakauf--a legend of Charlemagne’s Day. - - - - -OUR ART. - - - To be great is not our fate - So we try to gain applause, - To attract, by being in fact, - What perhaps we really are, - Somewhat hazy, if not quite crazy. - - See the pictures which we hang, - Daubs of paint, now bright, now faint, - Houses leaning, quaint designs, - Figures queer and how we sneer - At what the common people like! - - Though our verse may seem too terse, - Somewhat odd and not quite nice; - Yet it’s fine, each single line, - Free from metre and from rhyme, - It’s intense, without much sense! - - Music may be passing strange, - Tunes appear, then disappear - In a hurricane of sound, - Now a squeak, a louder shriek, - Rockets bursting, grand finale! - - With clasped hands the critic stands - Talking much of atmosphere, - Looking wise through half-closed eyes, - He reveals our very soul. - With disdain for all that’s plain - He explains our meaning well; - Listeners smile, they love his style - As they love our modern art, - Whose true tone, we can’t disown, - Only mystics understand! - - - - -ON READING SOME IMAGIST VERSES. - - - Sensuous cadences - Poignant with feeling, - Writhing like snakes - Before feeding, - Coiling, uncoiling, - In magical curves. - - Words most expressive, - Which sound like their meaning, - Throwing pictures before us, - In beauty revealing - Form, movement and feeling; - Words chosen with care - And yet some may ask, - Leading where? - Leading where? - - - - -THE MIND OF THE MYSTIC. - - - Caverns deep and fathomless, - Heights too steep for thought to climb, - Mazes whose key is ecstacy, - Music too sweet for words to speak, - Visions that fleet through aerial dreams, - Woe so drear no hopes can cheer, - Joy that comes with boundless love - Rippling from its source above! - - - - -A MONTREAL LULLABY. - - - The swishing of passing motors, - The rumbling of city cars, - The click and the clack of horses - That sharply accent the bars, - The boom of important freighters, - The whiz of the swifter train - Which slows, with a hushing whisper - To toot of canal refrain. - - And, striking its note of rawness, - The hoot of the motor horn - Is shrieking erratic discord, - To show its true Georgian scorn - Of soothing Victorian rhythm; - As sweetly and softly chimes - The old English clock in hallway. - Its tick and its tick make rhymes. - - And I sink into slumber - Counting slowly their number, - Tick tick--tick tick--tick-- - - - - -L’ESPERANCE. - - - La nuit, en pleurs, s’évanouit, - D’un air vainqueur le jour s’avance, - Et le rayon de l’espérance - Chasse les craintes de la nuit. - - Les oiseaux font leur joyeux bruit, - La douleur repose sa lance, - La nuit, en pleurs, s’évanouit, - D’un air vainqueur le jour s’avance. - - L’éclat du soleil éblouit, - Zéphyr riant rompt le silence, - Un chant d’amour au ciel s’élance, - Et dans les yeux le bonheur luit, - La nuit, en pleurs, s’évanouit. - - - - -MY LAKE. - - - I love the stillness of my lake - With silent mountains round, - Their peaks denoting lofty thought - Scarce held by earthly bound. - - I love the clearness of my lake - Reflecting Heaven’s blue, - Symbolic of the pure of heart, - Absorbing grace anew. - - I love the clouds above my lake - Of filmy grey and white, - As transient as the grief of those - Who’ve learnt to live aright! - - - - -A SCIENTIFIC PUZZLE. - - - The vast and cold expanse of boundless space - Where worlds, revolving in a ceaseless race, - Are born in fire, and slowly grow to prime, - Then cool to death in aeon’s endless time: - In space so vast could seeds of life survive - And reach another younger world alive, - If wafted, dustwise, from a world grown old, - Whilst lulled to deathless sleep by freezing cold? - - Or, - - Sunk in a meteor, hurling through space, - Flung from a broken star on its mad race; - Hurling through space ever heading for earth, - Rider momentous! hold fast to your berth, - Cling to your crevace in meteor’s side, - Life of a planet depends on this ride! - Last of one world, to be first of another, - Germ most amazing, of all germs the mother, - Strengthen yourself, for your luminous steed - Generates heat from his furious speed, - Strengthen yourself to withstand the fierce jar, - When the swift meteor, rushing from far, - Dashes in frenzy, indenting the earth, - Shaking you free from your perilous berth. - - Then, - - Feeding on water and warmed by the sun, - Germ of all living, where life there was none, - Energy gaining, dividing in twain, - Wonders and wonders will come in their train. - Life on this planet is now well begun, - Ever evolving, its course it must run - Till at length man can commune with his mate, - Looking to God to explain his strange fate. - - For, - - Even if true, there is ever the whence? - The why? the how? - God of all Mystery! God of all Truth! - To Thee, we bow! - - - - -THE GOOD OLD DAYS. - - - In the evening - Mysteries come creeping into our garden, - And the slanting beams of the settling sun - Enhance, by their mellowing glow, - The loveliness of trees and lawns and flowers. - The weeds now have their hour of beauty, - The dying cedar hedge is fashioned of golden tissue, - The falling apple blossoms are fairy butterflies, - And the peace of God - Enfolds the troubled heart of man! - - As the evening of life draws on, - Memory, the wonder worker, casts her magic spell - Over the past, with its strivings and failures, - Its sorrows and hardships, - Mingling them with its joys and successes, - Till “the good old days” become as perfect - As our garden, - In the twilight hour! - - - - -AT LENNOX. - - -The silver birch, on the mountain top, laughed for sheer joy of being -alive! - -She looked down on the valley and saw the peaceful farms and the green -meadow, where man’s only labour was driving a ball from hole to hole, -and beyond she saw the gentle slopes of wooded hills and the pure gold -of the setting sun and she was happy, for was not all this created just -for her! - -So she laughed, and every leaf fluttered for joy! - - - - -THE FLOWER OF TRUE HAPPINESS. - - -The Flower of Happiness grows in the fields of the Poor and in the -gardens of the Rich and may be gathered by all who want it and have the -will to reach for it. It hangs high up on the Tree of Life though, and -many never see it at all. They are so busy digging for gold or weeping -over graves, they forget to look up. Even amongst those who do see it -many are afraid to pluck it, fearing its beauty and fragrance might -injure their souls. Others strive for it; but the rock, on which they -stand, is so overlaid with greed and lust that, when the Flower is -within their reach, they slip, clutching but a broken stalk. - -A few only, with their feet firmly planted on the plane of moderation -and their faces turned towards God, gather this wondrous Flower. At -moments it may wilt; but the true Flower always revives, and whiffs of -its sweetness go to gladden many hearts as they, who have plucked it, -walk amongst their fellow-men. - - - - -THE MOUNTAIN TOP. - - -A man of mature years and thoughtful mien was slowly ascending the -mountain slopes when he met the good minister, with prayer book under -arm, on his way to church. - -“My dear sir,” said the latter, “your steps have passed the House of -God, and this the Sabbath morn!” - -The other answered: “The house of man, you mean. I go to the House of -God, the mountain top, with its foundation of finite rock and its roof -of infinite space; and there, from the finite my soul aspires to the -infinite, from sin to perfection, from the known to the ideal, from -disorder to harmony, from man to God.” - -“This too, I preach,” said the good minister. - -“And so do the Rabbi, the Brahman and the priests of the many religions -and sects of this world,” replied the other. “But each explains the -great mystery in his own way and the many ways confuse me and so, as -alone I must one day meet my God, alone now I seek Him on the mountain -top.” - -“Let not our many ways trouble you,” said the good minister, with a -kindly smile. “If you really have our common goal in your heart, you -need not climb to the mountain top to find the House of God; because -then you will know it is everywhere, as God is everywhere!” - - - - -CHARITY. - - -A lovable and beautiful maid was Charity, yet withal thoughtless and -somewhat vain. She was admired and “God-blessed” by all men, for what -beggar did she ever repulse! And for each coin she dropped into a -beggar’s hand, what treasure was she not storing up for herself in the -wonderful kingdom to come! - -But some of the beggars began to whisper among themselves that it was -not fair that she should receive such great reward for doing so very -little, and that the scattered coins vanished almost as soon as they -touched their outstretched hands, and that misery was everywhere. - -At last these murmurings reached Charity herself and they bewildered -her. So she looked more closely at the beggars and she saw here a blind -one, there a lame one, and many, many who were sick and weary, and her -heart was touched. So she came down from her pedestal and soothed and -comforted the needy, even finding cures for a few of them. Now she was -admired and loved more than ever, and greater than ever she felt was -that future reward she was heaping up for herself. - -But some of the beggars again began to whisper that everything was not -right, that perhaps after all it was not Charity they wanted, and again -Charity heard, and she looked at the beggars yet more closely and she -found in every face the promise of something better, if she could but -reach it. So she called all the Sciences and all the Arts to her aid and -for long they communed together. Then the Sciences and the Arts went to -work, accompanied by a sweet and perfect Charity, who now sought her -only reward in her power to serve and to love, and they found the roots -of the many evils that beset the world and one by one they destroyed -them. - -No angry whisperings now, no gruesome beggars more; but soft laughter -and willing helpers everywhere abound. - - - - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Flag and Other Poems, by Amy Redpath Roddick - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLAG AND OTHER POEMS *** - -***** This file should be named 51212-0.txt or 51212-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/1/51212/ - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Flag and Other Poems - -Author: Amy Redpath Roddick - -Release Date: February 14, 2016 [EBook #51212] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLAG AND OTHER POEMS *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="284" height="450" alt="" title="" /> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_001" id="page_001"></a></p> - -<h1> -<big>THE FLAG</big><br /> -AND OTHER POEMS<br /> -1918</h1> - -<p class="cb">BY<br /> -AMY REDPATH RODDICK<br /> -<br /> -(<i>All rights reserved</i>)<br /> -<br /> -<span class="eng">Montreal</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">John Dougall & Son</span><br /> -</p> - -<p><a name="page_002" id="page_002"></a></p> - -<p><a name="page_003" id="page_003"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2> - -<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary=""> - -<tr><td> </td><td align="right"><span class="smcap">Page</span></td></tr> -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_BRITISH_LANDS">The British Lands</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_005">5</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_FLAG">The Flag</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_007">7</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#ENGLANDS_OLDEST_COLONY">England’s Oldest Colony</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_009">9</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#IN_FORT-BOUND_METZ">In Fort-Bound Metz</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_011">11</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_CALM_THAT_COMES_WITH_YEARS">The Calm that Comes with Years</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_013">13</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#GOING_WEST">Going West</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_015">15</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#PERFECT_IN_THY_PROMISE">Perfect in Thy Promise</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_018">18</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#ARMAGEDDON">Armageddon</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_019">19</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_FAIRIES">The Fairies</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_020">20</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_SOLDIERS">The Soldiers</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_021">21</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#NO_TEARS">No Tears</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_022">22</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“<span class="smcap"><a href="#MON_REPOS">Mon Repos</a></span>”</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_022">22</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td>“<span class="smcap"><a href="#AS_WE_FORGIVE">As We Forgive</a></span>”</td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_023">23</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_CREW">The Crew</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_024">24</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#IN_A_TRAIN">In a Train</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_025">25</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_BALLAD_OF_A_BUGABOO">The Ballad of a Bugaboo</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_026">26</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#OUR_ART">Our Art</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_031">31</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#ON_READING_SOME_IMAGIST_VERSES">On Reading Some Imagist Verses</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_033">33</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_MIND_OF_THE_MYSTIC">The Mind of the Mystic</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_034">34</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#A_MONTREAL_LULLABY">A Montreal Lullaby</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_035">35</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#LESPERANCE">L’Esperance</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_036">36</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#MY_LAKE">My Lake</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_037">37</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#A_SCIENTIFIC_PUZZLE">A Scientific Puzzle</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_038">38</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_GOOD_OLD_DAYS">The Good Old Days</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_040">40</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#AT_LENNOX">At Lennox</a></span> </td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_041">41</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_FLOWER_OF_TRUE_HAPPINESS">The Flower of True Happiness</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_042">42</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_MOUNTAIN_TOP">The Mountain Top</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_044">44</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHARITY">Charity</a></span></td><td align="right" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_046">46</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<p><a name="page_004" id="page_004"></a></p> - -<p><a name="page_005" id="page_005"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_BRITISH_LANDS" id="THE_BRITISH_LANDS"></a>THE BRITISH LANDS.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The tie that binds the British lands<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is never spun of tyrant’s might;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of fair replies to just demands,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of compromise whenever right<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is spun the fibre of its strands,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A mighty Empire to unite.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A symbol is our gracious King<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of British unity of heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A simple man to whom we cling,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of all good men the counterpart.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We sing to God to “Save the King,”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And mean thereby ourselves in part.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The people of the British lands<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Are masters of their future fate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By effort of their mind and hands<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They glorify their Empire State,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, as the bud of thought expands,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Can make new laws by calm debate.<a name="page_006" id="page_006"></a><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The British Empire, may it be<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The nucleus of that larger league,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Uniting every land and sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Eschewing wars and false intrigue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">May common sense and kindness be<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The crowning glory of that league!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_007" id="page_007"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_FLAG" id="THE_FLAG"></a>THE FLAG.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Canada! where is thy flag,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Welding race and race together?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Union Jack, that wondrous rag,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Dear to those who’ve trod the heather,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dear to those who love the rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Blending Irish cross and nation<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the crosses of old foes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In a just and fair relation,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bears no emblem of the men,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">First to cross the stormy ocean,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bringing faith and plough and pen,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">First to know with deep emotion,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Canada! thy name, as home.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">True, provincial arms commingle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On thy flag o’er ships that roam;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In their stead an emblem single,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Maple leaf of golden hue,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Would announce to all more proudly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whence thy ships their anchors drew;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Would announce to all more loudly,<a name="page_008" id="page_008"></a><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Canada! thy nation’s life;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And on land, when bells are ringing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To acclaim the end of strife,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When with joy each heart is singing;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Canada! is this thy flag?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Welding race and race together,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waving from each roof and crag,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">East and West, one nation ever!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_009" id="page_009"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="ENGLANDS_OLDEST_COLONY" id="ENGLANDS_OLDEST_COLONY"></a>ENGLAND’S OLDEST COLONY.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a>Newfoundland is proud to be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">England’s oldest colony!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Loving her dear motherland,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By her side she takes her stand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Devon, Scotch and Irish stock,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sturdy as their seagirt rock,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leave their homes and leave their boats,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Don the khaki-coloured coats.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Newfoundland has fought and bled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Far and wide her fame has spread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Newfoundland is proud to be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">England’s oldest colony!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nine fair sisters in one home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the North Pole on its dome,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Facing both the East and West,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a friendly State abreast,<a name="page_010" id="page_010"></a><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Smile upon the lonely one.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They have done as she has done,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fought and bled in freedom’s cause,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Won like her the world’s applause.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will she join her home to theirs?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No, her head in scorn she rears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Newfoundland is proud to be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">England’s oldest colony!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But the offer’s most sincere;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the offer’s always there;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Newfoundland may change her mind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in time she too may find,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Burdens shared are light to bear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Triumphs shared are doubly dear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She may gladly join the sheaf<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bound around by maple leaf,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Knowing well she still may boast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Answering her sisters’ toast:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Newfoundland is proud to be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">England’s oldest colony!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> The name of “Newfoundland” is never pronounced by its -inhabitants or their neighbors of the Maritime Provinces with the accent -on the middle syllable, as is the usage elsewhere. It is pronounced as -though written “Newf’n’land,” with the principal stress on the last -syllable.</p></div> - -<p><a name="page_011" id="page_011"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="IN_FORT-BOUND_METZ" id="IN_FORT-BOUND_METZ"></a>IN FORT-BOUND METZ.<br /><br /> -July 26th, 1914.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Neat uniformed, with close cropped head and fierce moustache,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Near us they dined one July day in fort-bound Metz.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We could not catch their words; but we could see and feel<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their strong excitement, breaking forth, then held in check,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then breaking forth afresh as some new health was drunk.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The joy, imprinted on their faces, spread to ours.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We laughed in turn as they; but knew not why we laughed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was indeed a merry meal in which we shared,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That July day, in fort-bound Metz.<a name="page_012" id="page_012"></a><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Next day, in France, we were to know at what we laughed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With those large built, full blooded German men of rank,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For when we asked a grieving woman why she wept,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She sobbed: “Because the Germans will make war on France!”<a name="page_013" id="page_013"></a><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_CALM_THAT_COMES_WITH_YEARS" id="THE_CALM_THAT_COMES_WITH_YEARS"></a>THE CALM THAT COMES WITH YEARS.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I cannot write of turmoil, I cannot write of strife,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long since has gone the passion, I used to think was life.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A calmness rests upon me, a calm I cannot break,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though worlds are trembling round me and freedom is at stake.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Because I have no sorrows, because my heart’s at rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I cannot weep with others, whose hearts are not so blest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I tremble for no hero upon the fields of France,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I cannot curse the Nero who planned this gory dance.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Though woman fast is winning her place in Council Halls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By work where talent leads her, by work where mercy calls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I feel no keen elation to know her triumph’s near,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A triumph most unselfish, a heavier weight to bear.<a name="page_014" id="page_014"></a><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The calm that rests upon me, the calm that comes with years,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Suggests that man’s impatience is the cause of most he fears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Suggests that war’s upheaval is but the anvil clink,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The welding by the Forger of yet another link<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In that great chain of progress that binds successive time,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From chaos on to order, and then to heights sublime!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_015" id="page_015"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="GOING_WEST" id="GOING_WEST"></a>GOING WEST.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i3">A pulsing silence shrouds me round<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Like waves one feels, but hears no sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Then slowly, as from realms above,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">There come soft whispered words of love.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">And something presses on my heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of my own self it seems a part,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">So very close I feel—her head—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And now I know she is not dead!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">I try to break the secret charm<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That weighs upon my nerveless arm,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I want to hold my love so close<br /></span> -<span class="i4">She will not wander whilst I doze.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">I think I fell asleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The silence seemed more deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I could not catch the beat<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The noiseless waves repeat.<a name="page_016" id="page_016"></a><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Again there comes that soundless sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The heavy, ceaseless, rythmic pound.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Is it the throb of worlds alive?<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Is it the hum of some near hive?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">My own tired pulse may be the cause<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of what is more like faint applause,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of what might be a funeral drum<br /></span> -<span class="i4">So muffled to be almost dumb.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">But no, that pressure on my heart<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Reminds me, with a sudden dart<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Of pain, so keen it seems to thrill,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">That my dear love is by me still.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">And now I understand<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The meaning of that band,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Her heart is beating time<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In unison with mine.<br /></span> -<span style="margin-left: 6em;">————</span><br /> -<span class="i4">Again those words of love I hear,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">But now they are so very near,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">They’re telling me of deeds I’ve done<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And of the wished for cross I’ve won!<a name="page_017" id="page_017"></a><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">So after all my life’s not lost,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Amidst that fiery holocaust,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I’ve done what I was meant to do,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">What matter if the fight’s not through!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">My little love your head is pressed<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Too close upon my burning breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">And yet it seems, that while you press,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">The pain is growing less and less.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Perhaps I’m going west,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I’m tired, I want to rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">My breathing’s slow and deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">I’m sinking fast asleep—<br /></span> -<span style="margin-left: 6em;">————</span><br /> -<span class="i0">In shell tossed No Man’s Land they saw him, lying<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unconscious, smiling in his sleep, but dying—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His broken arm hung limp, a mortal wound<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gaped wide above his heart, on which they found,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tight pressed, the picture of his youthful bride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose grave is swept by ocean’s restless tide.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_018" id="page_018"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="PERFECT_IN_THY_PROMISE" id="PERFECT_IN_THY_PROMISE"></a>PERFECT IN THY PROMISE.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Perfect in thy promise, as the bud unfolding,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Perfect in thyself, as rose fresh blown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ever gracious, all that’s pure and good upholding,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Perfect spirit, hast thou really flown?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Must I spend alone the many, many morrows,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Void of blissful hopes together spanned,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hopes of service in assuaging others’ sorrows,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Hopes of varied joys together planned?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No, these heavy mourning weeds I’ll cast asunder,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Struggle through the clouds that wrap me round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Close my ears to their unholy, fearsome thunder,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Spring anew to life from grief unbound.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Perfect spirit, now I know that thou art near me;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In thy tender love I rest content,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Trusting in that love to cheer, and help, and steer me,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Till I too have climbed life’s steep ascent!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_019" id="page_019"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="ARMAGEDDON" id="ARMAGEDDON"></a>ARMAGEDDON.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Armageddon of the ages,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In pent up wrath and fury rages,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And little souls like children cry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And little souls are asking why.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Armageddon of the ages,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Lord of all, in pity stages,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That little souls may grow in grace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That little souls may know His face.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Armageddon of the ages,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Foretold by holy men and sages,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The last and greatest fight of all—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When good shall win, and evil fall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When nation shall clasp hands with nation<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In universal federation!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_020" id="page_020"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_FAIRIES" id="THE_FAIRIES"></a>THE FAIRIES.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Merrily the fairies march,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In and out,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Round about,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where toadstools in magic row<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mark their course by moonlight glow.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">In and out,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Round about,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waving music with their wands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cheerful little vagabonds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Knowing nought of care or duty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Living but for play and beauty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dancing in the moonshine hours,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They will hide from sun and showers.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No one seeks the fairies now,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">They’re forgotten with our joys,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">They’re forgotten with our toys,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No one seeks the fairies now.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_021" id="page_021"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_SOLDIERS" id="THE_SOLDIERS"></a>THE SOLDIERS.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sternly march the soldier men,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Straight ahead,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Where they’re led,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ready for self-sacrifice,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Braving death in any guise.<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Straight ahead,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Where they’re led,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sternly march the splendid hosts,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never flinching from their posts,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Facing frightful odds at first,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When o’er peaceful lands war burst,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beating back the hated foe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a strong united blow.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thinking of our soldier men<br /></span> -<span class="i4">There’s no duty we will shirk,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Rain or shine will stop no work,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thinking of our soldier men.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_022" id="page_022"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="NO_TEARS" id="NO_TEARS"></a>NO TEARS.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For a hero’s death, no tears!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He fought for lasting peace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But everlasting peace he’s won;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It might be troubled if I wept.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="MON_REPOS" id="MON_REPOS"></a>“MON REPOS.”</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Mon Repos” he called our home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Meaning his and mine.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He has gone, our home has gone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But “Mon Repos” still shelters me.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_023" id="page_023"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="AS_WE_FORGIVE" id="AS_WE_FORGIVE"></a>“AS WE FORGIVE.”<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">On Belgic dunes the sun is gayly shining<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And little children can forget—and play;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A jolly band with smiles and arms entwining<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Are running through the sands and lose their way.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They stop their frolicking and rather weary<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They chance upon a road where, looking round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They see the perfect Son of gentle Mary<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Resigned upon His cross though pierced and bound.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At His dear feet, in prayer, they closely snuggle<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And chant the words of Him they all adore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But “trespasses” reminding them, they struggle<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To finish, hesitate, can say no more.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A step is heard, a presence felt that captures<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The stammered words, and firmly all repeat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Pater Noster to its end. What raptures!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Their hero King! they see and humbly greet.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Suggested by a pretty story of King Albert that has -filtered through from martyred Belgium.</p></div> - -<p><a name="page_024" id="page_024"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_CREW" id="THE_CREW"></a>THE CREW.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O’er the moving waters of the Horicon<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a><br /></span> -<span class="i2">Comes a gentle breeze,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Throwing kisses to its ripples,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Flirting with the trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blowing whiffs of scented clover,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whiffs of sweetest peas.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">On the moving waters of the Horicon<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Comes a red canoe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bearing Cupid, with an arrow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Pointed at the crew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sharing youthful dreams together,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In that red canoe!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> “The Horicon,” meaning tail lake, is the Indian name given -by Cooper to Lake George.</p></div> - -<p><a name="page_025" id="page_025"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="IN_A_TRAIN" id="IN_A_TRAIN"></a>IN A TRAIN.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A lonesome landscape, brown and grey,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And chilled with flakes of smutchy snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So grimly dull that every ray<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of setting sun forgets its glow;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But in the train I sit with one.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who clears my thoughts of wintry gloom;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She laughs!—and now a midday sun<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is coaxing summer flowers to bloom!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_026" id="page_026"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_BALLAD_OF_A_BUGABOO" id="THE_BALLAD_OF_A_BUGABOO"></a>THE BALLAD OF A BUGABOO.<a name="FNanchor_D_4" id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In Aachen Town, in olden days,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There dwelt a demon beast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose special prey was roysterers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Returning from a feast.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">By day, he lurked in caverns deep<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Where sulphur waters boil,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dreamt of evil men and deeds,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whilst resting from his toil.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">By night he issued from the spring,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And those, who saw him, said:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“His body long and shaggy seemed<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With oddly flattened head.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His eyes burned like two fiery moons<br /></span> -<span class="i2">That paled the Queen of Night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when he opened wide his mouth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">His teeth gleamed sharp and white.<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><a name="page_027" id="page_027"></a><br /></span> -<span class="i0">His tail, which brushed the ground, was decked<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With phosphorescent scales,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yet his paws were like a bear’s<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With long, protruding nails.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His head and legs were wreathed in chains,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which rattled as he went<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Along the narrow, winding streets<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On pranks and mischief bent.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He gambolled like a monstrous calf<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of breed unknown and strange,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And drunken men were filled with fear<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who happened on his range.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His egress led along the drain,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whence comes, from far below,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The boiling, seething sulphur stream<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whose waters ever flow.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Before the large Bath House was built,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A wide canal was made<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To hold this healing flood, and there,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beneath the beech trees shade,<a name="page_028" id="page_028"></a><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The poorer women washed their clothes<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Without a thought of fear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though echoes rattling through the drain<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Announced the beast was near.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They felt no fear, for demons shun<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The honest light of day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But as the night came stealing on<br /></span> -<span class="i2">They were afraid to stay,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Although the beast was never known<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To take a single life,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was never even known to touch<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A child or maid or wife.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He seldom either sought his prey<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Before the midnight hour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then the haunts of vice and mirth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Around about he’d scour.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah, woe betide! the jovial youth<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Or greybeard steeped in shame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose shuffling walk and glassy eye<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Proclaim from whence he came.<a name="page_029" id="page_029"></a><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The demon beast with gliding gait<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Would follow on his track,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With sudden spring would seize his prey<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And hang upon his back.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The more the victim fought and reeled,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The heavier hung the beast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The more the victim cursed or prayed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The closer clung the beast.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The wretched man now sought his home<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beneath this awful load,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With beads of sweat upon his brow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">He oft mistook the road.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At last, at last he reached his goal,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Worn out by pain and fear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as he passed within his home—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The beast would disappear.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With rattling and with clanking chains<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The demon gambolled off,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Avoiding church and crucifix,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To seek the sulphur trough;<a name="page_030" id="page_030"></a><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But if another maudlin man<br /></span> -<span class="i2">There chanced upon his way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Most gladly would he turn aside<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To grapple yet more prey.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then moans and groans began afresh,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As this new victim found<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He too must turn from wrong to right,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By sad repentance bound!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_031" id="page_031"></a></p> - -<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_4" id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> The Baakauf—a legend of Charlemagne’s Day.</p></div> - -<h2><a name="OUR_ART" id="OUR_ART"></a>OUR ART.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To be great is not our fate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So we try to gain applause,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To attract, by being in fact,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What perhaps we really are,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Somewhat hazy, if not quite crazy.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">See the pictures which we hang,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Daubs of paint, now bright, now faint,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Houses leaning, quaint designs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Figures queer and how we sneer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At what the common people like!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Though our verse may seem too terse,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Somewhat odd and not quite nice;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet it’s fine, each single line,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Free from metre and from rhyme,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s intense, without much sense!<a name="page_032" id="page_032"></a><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Music may be passing strange,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tunes appear, then disappear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a hurricane of sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now a squeak, a louder shriek,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rockets bursting, grand finale!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With clasped hands the critic stands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Talking much of atmosphere,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Looking wise through half-closed eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He reveals our very soul.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With disdain for all that’s plain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He explains our meaning well;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Listeners smile, they love his style<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As they love our modern art,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose true tone, we can’t disown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only mystics understand!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_033" id="page_033"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="ON_READING_SOME_IMAGIST_VERSES" id="ON_READING_SOME_IMAGIST_VERSES"></a>ON READING SOME IMAGIST VERSES.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sensuous cadences<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poignant with feeling,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Writhing like snakes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before feeding,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Coiling, uncoiling,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In magical curves.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Words most expressive,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which sound like their meaning,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Throwing pictures before us,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In beauty revealing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Form, movement and feeling;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Words chosen with care<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And yet some may ask,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leading where?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leading where?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_034" id="page_034"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_MIND_OF_THE_MYSTIC" id="THE_MIND_OF_THE_MYSTIC"></a>THE MIND OF THE MYSTIC.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Caverns deep and fathomless,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heights too steep for thought to climb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mazes whose key is ecstacy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Music too sweet for words to speak,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Visions that fleet through aerial dreams,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Woe so drear no hopes can cheer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Joy that comes with boundless love<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rippling from its source above!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_035" id="page_035"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="A_MONTREAL_LULLABY" id="A_MONTREAL_LULLABY"></a>A MONTREAL LULLABY.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The swishing of passing motors,<br /></span> -<span class="i25">The rumbling of city cars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The click and the clack of horses<br /></span> -<span class="i25">That sharply accent the bars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The boom of important freighters,<br /></span> -<span class="i25">The whiz of the swifter train<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which slows, with a hushing whisper<br /></span> -<span class="i25">To toot of canal refrain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And, striking its note of rawness,<br /></span> -<span class="i25">The hoot of the motor horn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is shrieking erratic discord,<br /></span> -<span class="i25">To show its true Georgian scorn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of soothing Victorian rhythm;<br /></span> -<span class="i25">As sweetly and softly chimes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old English clock in hallway.<br /></span> -<span class="i25">Its tick and its tick make rhymes.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And I sink into slumber<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Counting slowly their number,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tick tick—tick tick—tick—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_036" id="page_036"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="LESPERANCE" id="LESPERANCE"></a>L’ESPERANCE.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">La nuit, en pleurs, s’évanouit,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">D’un air vainqueur le jour s’avance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Et le rayon de l’espérance<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Chasse les craintes de la nuit.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Les oiseaux font leur joyeux bruit,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">La douleur repose sa lance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">La nuit, en pleurs, s’évanouit,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">D’un air vainqueur le jour s’avance.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">L’éclat du soleil éblouit,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Zéphyr riant rompt le silence,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Un chant d’amour au ciel s’élance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Et dans les yeux le bonheur luit,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">La nuit, en pleurs, s’évanouit.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_037" id="page_037"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="MY_LAKE" id="MY_LAKE"></a>MY LAKE.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I love the stillness of my lake<br /></span> -<span class="i25">With silent mountains round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their peaks denoting lofty thought<br /></span> -<span class="i25">Scarce held by earthly bound.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I love the clearness of my lake<br /></span> -<span class="i25">Reflecting Heaven’s blue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Symbolic of the pure of heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i25">Absorbing grace anew.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I love the clouds above my lake<br /></span> -<span class="i25">Of filmy grey and white,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As transient as the grief of those<br /></span> -<span class="i25">Who’ve learnt to live aright!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_038" id="page_038"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="A_SCIENTIFIC_PUZZLE" id="A_SCIENTIFIC_PUZZLE"></a>A SCIENTIFIC PUZZLE.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The vast and cold expanse of boundless space<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where worlds, revolving in a ceaseless race,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are born in fire, and slowly grow to prime,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then cool to death in aeon’s endless time:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In space so vast could seeds of life survive<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And reach another younger world alive,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If wafted, dustwise, from a world grown old,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whilst lulled to deathless sleep by freezing cold?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">Or,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sunk in a meteor, hurling through space,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flung from a broken star on its mad race;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hurling through space ever heading for earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rider momentous! hold fast to your berth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cling to your crevace in meteor’s side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Life of a planet depends on this ride!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Last of one world, to be first of another,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Germ most amazing, of all germs the mother,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Strengthen yourself, for your luminous steed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Generates heat from his furious speed,<a name="page_039" id="page_039"></a><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Strengthen yourself to withstand the fierce jar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the swift meteor, rushing from far,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dashes in frenzy, indenting the earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shaking you free from your perilous berth.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">Then,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Feeding on water and warmed by the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Germ of all living, where life there was none,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Energy gaining, dividing in twain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wonders and wonders will come in their train.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Life on this planet is now well begun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ever evolving, its course it must run<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till at length man can commune with his mate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Looking to God to explain his strange fate.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">For,<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i4">Even if true, there is ever the whence?<br /></span> -<span class="i5">The why? the how?<br /></span> -<span class="i4">God of all Mystery! God of all Truth!<br /></span> -<span class="i5">To Thee, we bow!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_040" id="page_040"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_GOOD_OLD_DAYS" id="THE_GOOD_OLD_DAYS"></a>THE GOOD OLD DAYS.</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In the evening<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mysteries come creeping into our garden,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the slanting beams of the settling sun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Enhance, by their mellowing glow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The loveliness of trees and lawns and flowers.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The weeds now have their hour of beauty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dying cedar hedge is fashioned of golden tissue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The falling apple blossoms are fairy butterflies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the peace of God<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Enfolds the troubled heart of man!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">As the evening of life draws on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Memory, the wonder worker, casts her magic spell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the past, with its strivings and failures,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its sorrows and hardships,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mingling them with its joys and successes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till “the good old days” become as perfect<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As our garden,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the twilight hour!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><a name="page_041" id="page_041"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="AT_LENNOX" id="AT_LENNOX"></a>AT LENNOX.</h2> - -<p>The silver birch, on the mountain top, laughed for sheer joy of being -alive!</p> - -<p>She looked down on the valley and saw the peaceful farms and the green -meadow, where man’s only labour was driving a ball from hole to hole, -and beyond she saw the gentle slopes of wooded hills and the pure gold -of the setting sun and she was happy, for was not all this created just -for her!</p> - -<p>So she laughed, and every leaf fluttered for joy!<a name="page_042" id="page_042"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_FLOWER_OF_TRUE_HAPPINESS" id="THE_FLOWER_OF_TRUE_HAPPINESS"></a>THE FLOWER OF TRUE HAPPINESS.</h2> - -<p>The Flower of Happiness grows in the fields of the Poor and in the -gardens of the Rich and may be gathered by all who want it and have the -will to reach for it. It hangs high up on the Tree of Life though, and -many never see it at all. They are so busy digging for gold or weeping -over graves, they forget to look up. Even amongst those who do see it -many are afraid to pluck it, fearing its beauty and fragrance might -injure their souls. Others strive for it; but the rock, on which they -stand, is so overlaid with greed and lust that, when the Flower is -within their reach, they slip, clutching but a broken stalk.</p> - -<p>A few only, with their feet firmly planted on the plane of moderation -and their faces turned towards God, gather this wondrous Flower. At -moments it may wilt; but the true<a name="page_043" id="page_043"></a> Flower always revives, and whiffs of -its sweetness go to gladden many hearts as they, who have plucked it, -walk amongst their fellow-men.<a name="page_044" id="page_044"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_MOUNTAIN_TOP" id="THE_MOUNTAIN_TOP"></a>THE MOUNTAIN TOP.</h2> - -<p>A man of mature years and thoughtful mien was slowly ascending the -mountain slopes when he met the good minister, with prayer book under -arm, on his way to church.</p> - -<p>“My dear sir,” said the latter, “your steps have passed the House of -God, and this the Sabbath morn!”</p> - -<p>The other answered: “The house of man, you mean. I go to the House of -God, the mountain top, with its foundation of finite rock and its roof -of infinite space; and there, from the finite my soul aspires to the -infinite, from sin to perfection, from the known to the ideal, from -disorder to harmony, from man to God.”</p> - -<p>“This too, I preach,” said the good minister.</p> - -<p>“And so do the Rabbi, the Brahman and the priests of the many religions -and sects of this world,” replied the other. “But each explains the -great mystery in his own way and<a name="page_045" id="page_045"></a> the many ways confuse me and so, as -alone I must one day meet my God, alone now I seek Him on the mountain -top.”</p> - -<p>“Let not our many ways trouble you,” said the good minister, with a -kindly smile. “If you really have our common goal in your heart, you -need not climb to the mountain top to find the House of God; because -then you will know it is everywhere, as God is everywhere!”<a name="page_046" id="page_046"></a></p> - -<h2><a name="CHARITY" id="CHARITY"></a>CHARITY.</h2> - -<p>A lovable and beautiful maid was Charity, yet withal thoughtless and -somewhat vain. She was admired and “God-blessed” by all men, for what -beggar did she ever repulse! And for each coin she dropped into a -beggar’s hand, what treasure was she not storing up for herself in the -wonderful kingdom to come!</p> - -<p>But some of the beggars began to whisper among themselves that it was -not fair that she should receive such great reward for doing so very -little, and that the scattered coins vanished almost as soon as they -touched their outstretched hands, and that misery was everywhere.</p> - -<p>At last these murmurings reached Charity herself and they bewildered -her. So she looked more closely at the beggars and she saw here a blind -one, there a lame one, and many, many who were sick and weary, and her -heart was touched. So she came down from her pedestal<a name="page_047" id="page_047"></a> and soothed and -comforted the needy, even finding cures for a few of them. Now she was -admired and loved more than ever, and greater than ever she felt was -that future reward she was heaping up for herself.</p> - -<p>But some of the beggars again began to whisper that everything was not -right, that perhaps after all it was not Charity they wanted, and again -Charity heard, and she looked at the beggars yet more closely and she -found in every face the promise of something better, if she could but -reach it. So she called all the Sciences and all the Arts to her aid and -for long they communed together. Then the Sciences and the Arts went to -work, accompanied by a sweet and perfect Charity, who now sought her -only reward in her power to serve and to love, and they found the roots -of the many evils that beset the world and one by one they destroyed -them.</p> - -<p>No angry whisperings now, no gruesome beggars more; but soft laughter -and willing helpers everywhere abound.</p> - -<hr class="full" /> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Flag and Other Poems, by Amy Redpath Roddick - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FLAG AND OTHER POEMS *** - -***** This file should be named 51212-h.htm or 51212-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/1/51212/ - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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