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+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.
+
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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #61902 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61902)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of How Salvator Won & Other Recitations, by 
-Ella Wheeler Wilcox
-
-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: How Salvator Won & Other Recitations
-
-Author: Ella Wheeler Wilcox
-
-Release Date: April 23, 2020 [EBook #61902]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOW SALVATOR WON & OTHER ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by Thierry Alberto, Chuck Greif and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
-file was produced from images generously made available
-by The Internet Archive)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-                [Illustration: _Ella Wheeler Wilcox._]
-
-                           HOW SALVATOR WON
-
-                                  AND
-
-                           OTHER RECITATIONS
-
-
-                        BY ELLA WHEELER WILCOX
-
-  AUTHOR OF “MAURINE,” “POEMS OF PASSION,” “POEMS OF PLEASURE,” “MAL
-      MOULÉE,” “ADVENTURES OF MISS VOLNEY,” “A DOUBLE LIFE,” ETC.
-
-
-                     NEW YORK EDGAR S. WERNER 1891
-
-                           COPYRIGHT, 1891,
-
-                                  BY
-
-                           EDGAR S. WERNER.
-
-
-
-
-PREFACE.
-
-
-I am constantly urged by readers and impersonators to furnish them with
-verses for recitation. In response to this ever-increasing demand I have
-selected, for this volume, the poems which seem suitable for such a
-purpose.
-
-In making my collection I have been obliged to use, not those which are
-among my best efforts in a literary or artistic sense, but those which
-contain the best dramatic possibilities for professionals. Several of
-the poems are among my earliest efforts, others were written expressly
-for this book. In “Meg’s Curse,” which has never before been in print,
-and in several others, I ignored all rules of art for the purpose of
-giving the public reader a better chance to exercise his elocutionary
-powers.
-
-                                                               E. W. W.
-
-
-
-
-CONTENTS.
-
-                                                                    PAGE
-ABOUT MAY,                                                           132
-AFTER THE ENGAGEMENT,                                                 24
-ANSWERED,                                                            128
-AS YOU GO THROUGH LIFE,                                              105
-BABY IN THE HOUSE, A,                                                 80
-BABYLAND,                                                             71
-BEAUTIFUL BLUE DANUBE, THE,                                          120
-BIRTH OF THE OPAL, THE,                                              122
-BREAKING THE DAY IN TWO,                                              95
-COMING MAN, THE,                                                     143
-DELL AND I,                                                          135
-DICK’S FAMILY,                                                       147
-FABLE, A,                                                             48
-FALLING OF THRONES, THE,                                              65
-FALSE,                                                                29
-FISHING,                                                              73
-FOOLISH ELM, THE,                                                     82
-GETHSEMANE,                                                          141
-GIDDY GIRL, THE,                                                     133
-GIRL’S AUTUMN REVERIE, A,                                            139
-GOSSIPS, THE,                                                         13
-GRANDPA’S CHRISTMAS,                                                  20
-HER LAST LETTER,                                                      67
-HIS YOUTH,                                                            38
-HOW DOES LOVE SPEAK,                                                 103
-HOW SALVATOR WON,                                                      9
-ILLOGICAL,                                                            58
-KINGDOM OF LOVE, THE,                                                 34
-LADY AND THE DAME, THE,                                              109
-MAN’S REPENTANCE, A,                                                 145
-MANIAC, THE,                                                          99
-MARRIED COQUETTE, A,                                                 111
-MEG’S CURSE,                                                          44
-MEMORY’S RIVER,                                                      106
-MESSENGER, THE,                                                       55
-NEW YEAR RESOLVE,                                                     86
-“NOW I LAY ME”,                                                       54
-OLD STAGE QUEEN, THE,                                                 75
-PEEK-A-BOO,                                                           63
-PHANTOM BALL, THE,                                                    32
-PIN, A,                                                               92
-PLATONIC,                                                             16
-PLEA, A,                                                             115
-PRINCESS’S FINGER NAIL, THE,                                          77
-RAPE OF THE MIST, THE,                                                97
-ROBIN’S MISTAKE,                                                      84
-SERVIAN LEGEND, A,                                                    60
-SIGN-BOARD, THE,                                                     130
-SOLITUDE,                                                             18
-SOUNDS FROM THE BASE-BALL FIELD,                                     124
-SUICIDE, THE,                                                         51
-SUMMER GIRL, A,                                                      117
-TWO GLASSES, THE,                                                     90
-TWO SINNERS,                                                          42
-UNDER THE SHEET,                                                      36
-VANITY FAIR,                                                         137
-WALTZ-QUADRILLE, A,                                                  126
-WANTED--A LITTLE GIRL,                                                40
-WATCHER, THE,                                                         27
-WAY OF IT, THE,                                                       50
-WHAT IS FLIRTATION,                                                  102
-WHAT WE WANT,                                                         88
-
-
-
-
-HOW SALVATOR WON.
-
-
-    The gate was thrown open, I rode out alone,
-    More proud than a monarch who sits on a throne.
-    I am but a jockey, yet shout upon shout
-    Went up from the people who watched me ride out;
-    And the cheers that rang forth from that warm-hearted crowd,
-    Were as earnest as those to which monarch e’er bowed.
-
-    My heart thrilled with pleasure so keen it was pain
-    As I patted my Salvator’s soft silken mane;
-    And a sweet shiver shot from his hide to my hand
-    As we passed by the multitude down to the stand.
-
-    The great waves of cheering came billowing back,
-    As the hoofs of brave Tenny rang swift down the track;
-    And he stood there beside us, all bone and all muscle,
-    Our noble opponent, well trained for the tussle
-    That waited us there on the smooth, shining course.
-    My Salvator, fair to the lovers of horse,
-    As a beautiful woman is fair to man’s sight--
-    Pure type of the thoroughbred, clean-limbed and bright,--
-    Stood taking the plaudits as only his due,
-    And nothing at all unexpected or new.
-
-    And then, there before us the bright flag is spread,
-    There’s a roar from the grand stand, and Tenny’s ahead;
-    At the sound of the voices that shouted “a go!”
-    He sprang like an arrow shot straight from the bow.
-    I tighten the reins on Prince Charlie’s great son--
-    He is off like a rocket, the race is begun.
-    Half-way down the furlong, their heads are together,
-    Scarce room ’twixt their noses to wedge in a feather;
-    Past grand stand, and judges, in neck-to-neck strife,
-    Ah, Salvator, boy! ’tis the race of your life.
-    I press my knees closer, I coax him, I urge,
-    I feel him go out with a leap and a surge;
-    I see him creep on, inch by inch, stride by stride,
-    While backward, still backward, falls Tenny beside.
-    We are nearing the turn, the first quarter is past--
-    ’Twixt leader and chaser the daylight is cast.
-    The distance elongates, still Tenny sweeps on,
-    As graceful and free-limbed and swift as a fawn;
-    His awkwardness vanished, his muscles all strained--
-    A noble opponent, well born and well trained.
-    I glanced o’er my shoulder, ha! Tenny, the cost
-    Of that one second’s flagging, will be--the race lost.
-    One second’s weak yielding of courage and strength,
-    And the daylight between us has doubled its length.
-
-    The first mile is covered, the race is mine--no!
-    For the blue blood of Tenny responds to a blow.
-    He shoots through the air like a ball from a gun,
-    And the two lengths between us are shortened to one.
-    My heart is contracted, my throat feels a lump,
-    For Tenny’s long neck is at Salvator’s rump;
-    And now with new courage, grown bolder and bolder,
-    I see him once more running shoulder to shoulder.
-    With knees, hands and body I press my grand steed;
-    I urge him, I coax him, I pray him to heed!
-    Oh, Salvator! Salvator! list to my calls,
-    For the blow of my whip will hurt both if it falls.
-    There’s a roar from the crowd like the ocean in storm,
-    As close to my saddle leaps Tenny’s great form,
-    One more mighty plunge, and with knee, limb and hand,
-    I lift my horse first by a nose past the stand.
-    We are under the string now--the great race is done,
-    And Salvator, Salvator, Salvator won!
-    Cheer, hoar-headed patriarchs; cheer loud, I say:
-    ’Tis the race of a century witnessed to-day!
-    Though ye live twice the space that’s allotted to men
-    Ye never will see such a grand race again.
-    Let the shouts of the populace roar like the surf
-    For Salvator, Salvator, king of the turf!
-    He has broken the record of thirteen long years;
-    He has won the first place in a vast line of peers.
-    ’Twas a neck-to-neck contest, a grand, honest race,
-    And even his enemies grant him his place.
-    Down into the dust let old records be hurled,
-    And hang out 2.05 in the gaze of the world.
-
-
-
-
-THE GOSSIPS.
-
-
-    A rose in my garden, the sweetest and fairest,
-      Was hanging her head through the long golden hours;
-    And early one morning I saw her tears falling,
-      And heard a low gossiping talk in the bowers.
-    The yellow Nasturtium, a spinster all faded,
-      Was telling a Lily what ailed the poor Rose:
-    “That wild roving Bee who was hanging about her,
-      Has jilted her squarely, as everyone knows.
-
-    “I knew when he came, with his singing and sighing,
-      His airs and his speeches so fine and so sweet,
-    Just how it would end; but no one would believe me,
-      For all were quite ready to fall at his feet.”
-    “Indeed, you are wrong,” said the Lily-belle proudly;
-      “I cared nothing for him, he called on me once,
-    And would have come often, no doubt, if I’d asked him,
-      But, though he was handsome, I thought him a dunce.”
-
-    “Now, now, that’s not true,” cried the tall Oleander.
-      “He has traveled and seen every flower that grows;
-    And one who has supped in the garden of princes,
-      We all might have known would not wed with the Rose.”
-    “But wasn’t she proud when he showed her attention?
-      And she let him caress her,” said sly Mignonette;
-    “And I used to see it and blush for her folly,
-      The silly thing thinks he will come to her yet.”
-
-    “I thought he was splendid,” said pretty pert Larkspur,
-      “So dark, and so grand with that gay cloak of gold;
-    But he tried once to kiss me, the impudent fellow!
-      And I got offended; I thought him too bold.”
-    “Oh, fie!” laughed the Almond, “that does for a story.
-      Though I hang down my head, yet I see all that goes;
-    And I saw you reach out trying hard to detain him,
-      But he just tapped your cheek and flew by to the Rose.
-
-    “He cared nothing for her, he only was flirting
-      To while away time, as I very well knew;
-    So I turned a cold shoulder on all his advances,
-      Because I was certain his heart was untrue.”
-    “The Rose is served right for her folly in trusting
-      An oily-tongued stranger,” quoth proud Columbine.
-    “I knew what he was, and thought once I would warn her,
-      But of course the affair was no business of mine.”
-
-    “Oh, well,” cried the Peony, shrugging her shoulders,
-      “I saw all along that the Bee was a flirt;
-    But the Rose has been always so praised and so petted,
-      I thought a good lesson would do her no hurt.”
-    Just then came the sound of a love-song sung sweetly,
-      I saw my proud Rose lifting up her bowed head;
-    And the talk of the gossips was hushed in a moment,
-      And the flowers all listened to hear what was said.
-
-    And the dark, handsome Bee, with his cloak o’er his shoulder,
-      Came swift through the sunlight and kissed the sad Rose,
-    And whispered: “My darling, I’ve roved the world over,
-      And you are the loveliest flower that grows.”
-
-
-
-
-PLATONIC.
-
-
-    I knew it the first of the summer,
-      I knew it the same at the end,
-    That you and your love were plighted;
-      But couldn’t you be my friend?
-    Couldn’t we sit in the twilight,
-      Couldn’t we walk on the shore
-    With only a pleasant friendship
-      To bind us, and nothing more?
-
-    There was not a word of folly
-      Spoken between us two,
-    Though we lingered oft in the garden
-      Till the roses were wet with dew.
-    We touched on a thousand subjects--
-      The moon and the worlds above,--
-    And our talk was tinctured with science,
-      And everything else, save love.
-
-    A wholly Platonic friendship
-      You said I had proven to you
-    Could bind a man and a woman
-      The whole long season through,
-    With never a thought of flirting,
-      Though both were in their youth.
-    What would you have said, my lady,
-      If you had known the truth!
-
-    What would you have done, I wonder,
-      Had I gone on my knees to you
-    And told you my passionate story,
-      There in the dusk and the dew.
-    My burning, burdensome story,
-      Hidden and hushed so long--
-    My story of hopeless loving--
-      Say, would you have thought it wrong?
-
-    But I fought with my heart and conquered,
-      I hid my wound from sight;
-    You were going away in the morning,
-      And I said a calm good-night.
-    But now when I sit in the twilight,
-      Or when I walk by the sea
-    That friendship, quite Platonic,
-      Comes surging over me.
-    And a passionate longing fills me
-      For the roses, the dusk, the dew;
-    For the beautiful summer vanished,
-      For the moonlight walks--and _you_.
-
-
-
-
-SOLITUDE.
-
-
-    Laugh, and the world laughs with you;
-    Weep, and you weep alone;
-      For the sad old earth
-      Must borrow its mirth,
-    It has trouble enough of its own.
-
-    Sing, and the hills will answer;
-    Sigh, it is lost on the air;
-      The echoes bound
-      To a joyful sound,
-    But shrink from voicing care.
-
-    Rejoice, and men will seek you;
-    Grieve, and they turn and go;
-      They want full measure
-      Of all your pleasure,
-    But they do not want your woe.
-
-    Be glad, and your friends are many;
-    Be sad, and you lose them all;
-      There are none to decline
-      Your nectared wine,
-    But alone you must drink life’s gall.
-
-    Feast, and your halls are crowded;
-    Fast, and the world goes by;
-      Succeed and give,
-      And it helps you live,
-    But it cannot help you die.
-
-    There is room in the halls of pleasure
-    For a long and lordly train;
-      But one by one
-      We must all file on
-    Through the narrow aisles of pain.
-
-
-
-
-GRANDPA’S CHRISTMAS.
-
-
-    In his great cushioned chair by the fender
-      An old man sits dreaming to-night,
-    His withered hands, licked by the tender,
-      Warm rays of the red anthracite,
-    Are folded before him, all listless;
-      His dim eyes are fixed on the blaze,
-    While over him sweeps the resistless
-      Flood-tide of old days.
-
-    He hears not the mirth in the hallway,
-      He hears not the sounds of good cheer,
-    That through the old homestead ring alway
-      In the glad Christmas-time of the year.
-    He heeds not the chime of sweet voices
-      As the last gifts are hung on the tree.
-    In a long-vanished day he rejoices--
-      In his lost Used to be.
-
-    He has gone back across dead Decembers
-      To his childhood’s fair land of delight;
-    And his mother’s sweet smile he remembers,
-      As he hangs up his stocking at night.
-    He remembers the dream-haunted slumber
-      All broken and restless because
-    Of the visions that came without number
-      Of dear Santa Claus.
-
-    Again, in his manhood’s beginning,
-      He sees himself thrown on the world,
-    And into the vortex of sinning
-      By Pleasure’s strong arms he is hurled.
-    He hears the sweet Christmas bells ringing,
-      “Repent ye, repent ye, and pray;”
-    But he joins with his comrades in singing
-      A bacchanal lay.
-
-    Again he stands under the holly
-      With a blushing face lifted to his;
-    For love has been stronger than folly,
-      And has turned him from vice unto bliss;
-    And the whole world is lit with new glory
-      As the sweet vows are uttered again,
-    While the Christmas bells tell the old story
-      Of peace unto men.
-
-    Again, with his little brood ’round him,
-      He sits by the fair mother-wife;
-    He knows that the angels have crowned him
-      With the truest, best riches of life;
-    And the hearts of the children, untroubled,
-      Are filled with the gay Christmas-tide;
-    And the gifts for sweet Maudie are doubled,
-      ’Tis her birthday, beside.
-
-    Again,--ah, dear Jesus, have pity--
-      He finds in the chill, waning day,
-    That one has come home from the city--
-      Frail Maudie, whom love led astray.
-    She lies with her babe on her bosom--
-      Half-hid by the snow’s fleecy spread;
-    A bud and a poor trampled blossom--
-      And both are quite dead.
-
-    So fair and so fragile! just twenty--
-      How mocking the bells sound to-night!
-    She starved in this great land of plenty,
-      When she tried to grope back to the light.
-    Christ, are Thy disciples inhuman,
-      Or only for _men_ hast Thou died?
-    No mercy is shown to a woman
-      Who once steps aside.
-
-    Again he leans over the shrouded
-      Still form of the mother and wife;
-    Very lonely the way seems, and clouded,
-      As he looks down the vista of life.
-    With the sweet Christmas chimes there is blended
-      The knell for a life that is done,
-    And he knows that his joys are all ended
-      And his waiting begun.
-
-    So long have the years been, so lonely,
-      As he counts them by Christmases gone.
-    “I am homesick,” he murmurs; “if only
-      The Angel would lead the way on.
-    I am cold, in this chill winter weather;
-      Why, Maudie, dear, where have you been?
-    And you, too, sweet wife--and together--
-      O Christ, let me in.”
-
-    The children ran in from the hallway,
-      “Were you calling us, grandpa?” they said.
-    Then shrank, with that fear that comes alway
-      When young eyes look their first on the dead.
-    The freedom so longed for is given.
-      The children speak low and draw near:
-    “Dear grandpa keeps Christmas in Heaven
-      With grandma, this year.”
-
-
-
-
-AFTER THE ENGAGEMENT.
-
-
-    Well, Mabel, ’tis over and ended--
-      The ball I wrote was to be;
-    And oh! it was perfectly splendid--
-      If you _could_ have been here to see.
-    I’ve a thousand things to write you
-      That I know you are wanting to hear,
-    And one, that is sure to delight you--
-      I am wearing Joe’s diamond, my dear!
-
-    Yes, mamma is quite ecstatic
-      That I am engaged to Joe;
-    She thinks I am rather erratic,
-      And feared that I might say “no.”
-    But, Mabel, I’m twenty-seven
-      (Though nobody _dreams_ it, dear),
-    And a fortune like Joe’s isn’t given
-      To lay at one’s feet each year.
-
-    You know my old fancy for Harry--
-      Or, at least, I am certain you guessed
-    That it took all my sense not to marry
-      And go with that fellow out west.
-    But that was my very first season--
-      And Harry was poor as could be,
-    And mamma’s good practical reason
-      Took all the romance out of me.
-
-    She whisked me off over the ocean,
-      And had me presented at court,
-    And got me all out of the notion
-      That ranch life out west was my forte.
-    Of course I have never repented--
-      I’m not such a goose of a thing;
-    But after I had consented
-      To Joe--and he gave me the ring--
-
-    I felt such a queer sensation.
-      I seemed to go into a trance,
-    Away from the music’s pulsation,
-      Away from the lights and the dance.
-    And the wind o’er the wild prairie
-      Seemed blowing strong and free,
-    And it seemed not Joe, but Harry
-      Who was standing there close to me.
-
-    And the funniest feverish feeling
-      Went up from my feet to my head,
-    With little chills after it stealing--
-      And my hands got as numb as the dead.
-    A moment, and then it was over:
-      The diamond blazed up in my eyes,
-    And I saw in the face of my lover
-      A questioning, strange surprise.
-
-    Maybe ’twas the scent of the flowers,
-      That heavy with fragrance bloomed near,
-    But I didn’t feel natural for hours;
-      It was odd now, wasn’t it, dear?
-    Write soon to your fortunate Clara
-      Who has carried the prize away,
-    And say you’ll come on when I marry;
-      I think it will happen in May.
-
-
-
-
-THE WATCHER.
-
-
-    “I think I hear the sound of horses’ feet
-      Beating upon the graveled avenue.
-    Go to the window that looks on the street,
-      He would not let me die alone, I knew.”
-    Back to the couch the patient watcher passed,
-    And said: “It is the wailing of the blast.”
-
-    She turned upon her couch and, seeming, slept,
-      The long, dark lashes shadowing her cheek;
-    And on and on the weary moments crept,
-      When suddenly the watcher heard her speak:
-    “I think I hear the sound of horses’ hoofs--”
-    And answered, “’Tis the rain upon the roofs.”
-
-    Unbroken silence, quiet, deep, profound.
-      The restless sleeper turns: “How dark, how late!
-    What is it that I hear--a trampling sound?
-      I think there is a horseman at the gate.”
-    The watcher turns away her eyes tear-blind:
-    “It is the shutter beating in the wind.”
-
-    The dread hours passed; the patient clock ticked on;
-      The weary watcher moved not from her place.
-    The gray dim shadows of the early dawn
-      Caught sudden glory from the sleeper’s face.
-    “He comes! my love! I knew he would!” she cried;
-      And smiling sweetly in her slumbers, died.
-
-
-
-
-FALSE.
-
-
-    False! Good God, I am dreaming!
-      No, no, it never can be--
-    You who are so true in seeming,
-      You, false to your vows and me?
-    My wife and my fair boy’s mother
-      The star of my life--my queen--
-    To yield herself to another
-      Like some light Magdalene!
-
-    Proofs! what are proofs--I defy them!
-      They never can shake my trust;
-    If you look in my face and deny them
-      I will trample them into the dust.
-    For whenever I read of the glory
-      Of the realms of Paradise,
-    I sought for the truth of the story
-      And found it in your sweet eyes.
-
-    Why, you are the shy young creature
-      I wooed in her maiden grace;
-    There was purity in each feature,
-      And my heaven I found in your face
-    And, “not only married but mated,”
-      I would say in my pride and joy;
-    And our hopes were all consummated
-      When the angels gave us our boy.
-
-    Now you could not blot that beginning
-      So beautiful, pure and true,
-    With a record of wicked sinning
-      As a common woman might do.
-    Look up in your old frank fashion,
-      With your smile so free from art;
-    And say that no guilty passion
-      Has ever crept into your heart.
-
-    How pallid you are, and you tremble!
-      You are hiding your face from view!
-    “Tho’ a sinner, you cannot dissemble”--
-      My God! then the tale is true?
-    True and the sun above us
-      Shines on in the summer skies?
-    And men say the angels love us,
-      And that God is good and wise.
-
-    Yet he lets a wanton thing like you
-      Ruin my home and my name!
-    Get out of my sight ere I strike you
-      Dead in your shameless shame!
-    No, no, I was wild, I was brutal;
-      I would not take your life,
-    For the efforts of death would be futile
-      To wipe out the sin of a wife.
-    Wife--why, that word has seemed sainted,
-      I uttered it like a prayer.
-    And now to think it is tainted--
-      Christ! how much we can bear!
-
-    “Slay you!” my boy’s stained mother--
-      Nay, that would not punish, or save;
-    A soul that has outraged another
-      Finds no sudden peace in the grave.
-    I will leave you here to _remember_
-      The Eden that was your own,
-    While on toward my life’s December
-      I walk in the dark alone.
-
-
-
-
-THE PHANTOM BALL.
-
-
-    You remember the hall on the corner?
-      To-night as I walked down street
-    I heard the sound of music,
-      And the rhythmic beat and beat,
-    In time to the pulsing measure
-      Of lightly tripping feet.
-
-    And I turned and entered the doorway--
-      It was years since I had been there--
-    Years, and life seemed altered:
-      Pleasure had changed to care.
-    But again I was hearing the music
-      And watching the dancers fair.
-
-    And then, as I stood and listened,
-      The music lost its glee;
-    And instead of the merry waltzers
-      There were ghosts of the Used-to-be--
-    Ghosts of the pleasure-seekers
-      Who once had danced with me.
-
-    Oh, ’twas a ghastly picture!
-      Oh, ’twas a gruesome crowd!
-    Each bearing a skull on his shoulder,
-      Each trailing a long white shroud,
-    As they whirled in the dance together,
-      And the music shrieked aloud.
-
-    As they danced, their dry bones rattled
-      Like shutters in a blast;
-    And they stared from eyeless sockets
-      On me as they circled past;
-    And the music that kept them whirling
-      Was a funeral dirge played fast.
-
-    Some of them wore their face-cloths,
-      Others were rotted away.
-    Some had mould on their garments,
-      And some seemed dead but a day.
-    Corpses all, but I knew them
-      As friends, once blithe and gay.
-
-    Beauty and strength and manhood--
-      And this was the end of it all:
-    Nothing but phantoms whirling
-      In a ghastly skeleton ball.
-    But the music ceased--and they vanished,
-      And I came away from the hall.
-
-
-
-
-THE KINGDOM OF LOVE.
-
-
-    In the dawn of the day when the sea and the earth
-      Reflected the sunrise above,
-    I set forth with a heart full of courage and mirth
-      To seek for the Kingdom of Love.
-    I asked of a Poet I met on the way
-      Which cross-road would lead me aright.
-    And he said: “Follow me, and ere long you shall see
-      Its glittering turrets of light.”
-
-    And soon in the distance a city shone fair.
-      “Look yonder,” he said; “how it gleams!”
-    But alas! for the hopes that were doomed to despair,
-      It was only the “Kingdom of Dreams.”
-    Then the next man I asked was a gay Cavalier,
-      And he said: “Follow me, follow me;”
-    And with laughter and song we went speeding along
-      By the shores of Life’s beautiful sea.
-
-    Then we came to a valley more tropical far
-      Than the wonderful vale of Cashmere,
-    And I saw from a bower a face like a flower
-      Smile out on the gay Cavalier.
-    And he said: “We have come to humanity’s goal:
-      Here love and delight are intense.”
-    But alas and alas! for the hopes of my soul--
-      It was only the “Kingdom of Sense.”
-
-    As I journeyed more slowly I met on the road
-      A coach with retainers behind.
-    And they said: “Follow me, for our Lady’s abode
-      Belongs in that realm, you will find.”
-    ’Twas a grand dame of fashion, a newly-made bride,
-      I followed, encouraged and bold;
-    But my hopes died away like the last gleams of day,
-      For we came to the “Kingdom of Gold.”
-
-    At the door of a cottage I asked a fair maid.
-      “I have heard of that realm,” she replied;
-    “But my feet never roam from the ‘Kingdom of Home,’
-      So I know not the way,” and she sighed.
-    I looked on the cottage; how restful it seemed!
-      And the maid was as fair as a dove.
-    Great light glorified my soul as I cried:
-      “Why _home_ is the ‘Kingdom of Love!’”
-
-
-
-
-UNDER THE SHEET.
-
-
-    What a terrible night! Does the Night, I wonder--
-      The Night, with her black veil down to her feet
-    Like an ordained nun, know what lies under
-      That awful, motionless, snow-white sheet?
-    The winds seem crazed, and, wildly howling,
-      Over the sad earth blindly go.
-    Do they and the dark clouds over them scowling,
-      Do they dream or know?
-
-    Why, here in the room, not a week or over--
-      Tho’ it must be a week, not more than one--
-    (I cannot reckon of late or discover
-      When one day is ended or one begun),
-    But here in this room we were laughing lightly,
-      And glad was the measure our two hearts beat;
-    And the royal face that was smiling so brightly
-      Lies under that sheet.
-
-    I know not why--it is strange and fearful,
-      But I am afraid of her, lying there;
-    She who was always so gay and cheerful,
-      Lying so still with that stony stare:
-    She who was so like some grand sultana,
-      Fond of color and glow and heat,
-    To lie there clothed in that awful manner
-      In a stark white sheet.
-
-    She who was made out of summer blisses,
-      Tropical, beautiful, gracious, fair,
-    To lie and stare at my fondest kisses--
-      God! no wonder it whitens my hair.
-    Shriek, oh, wind! for the world is lonely;
-      Trail cloud-veil to the nun Night’s feet!
-    For all that I prized in life is only
-      A shape and a sheet.
-
-
-
-
-HIS YOUTH.
-
-
-    “Dying? I am not dying. Are you mad?
-      You think I need to ask for heavenly grace?
-    _I_ think _you_ are a fiend, who would be glad
-      To see me struggle in death’s cold embrace.
-
-    “But, man, you lie! for I am strong--in truth
-      Stronger than I have been in years; and soon
-    I shall feel young again as in my youth,
-      My glorious youth--life’s one great priceless boon.
-
-    “O youth, youth, youth! O God, that golden time,
-      When proud and glad I laughed the hours away.
-    Why, there’s no sacrifice (perhaps no crime)
-      I’d pause at, could it make me young to-day.
-
-    “But I’m not _old_! I grew--just ill, somehow;
-      Grew stiff of limb, and weak, and dim of sight.
-    It was but sickness. I am better now,
-      Oh, vastly better, ever since last night.
-
-    “And I could weep warm floods of happy tears
-      To think my strength is coming back at last,
-    For I have dreamed of such an hour for years,
-      As I lay thinking of my glorious past.
-
-    “You shake your head? Why, man, if you were sane
-      I’d strike you to my feet, I would, in truth.
-    How dare you tell me that my hopes are vain?
-      How dare you say I have outlived my youth?
-
-    “‘In heaven I may regain it?’ Oh, be still!
-      I want no heaven but what my glad youth gave.
-    Its long, bright hours, its rapture and its thrill--
-      O youth, youth, youth! it is my _youth_ I crave.
-
-    “There is no heaven! There’s nothing but a deep
-      And yawning grave from which I shrink in fear.
-    I am not sure of even rest or sleep;
-      Perhaps we lie and _think_, as I have here.
-
-    “Think, think, think, think, as we lie there and rot,
-      And hear the young above us laugh in glee.
-    How dare you say I’m dying! _I am not._
-      I would curse God if such a thing could be.
-
-    “Why, see me stand! why, hear this strong, full breath--
-      Dare you repeat that silly, base untruth?”
-    A cry--a fall--the silence known as death
-      Hushed his wild words. Well, has he found his youth?
-
-
-
-
-WANTED--A LITTLE GIRL.
-
-
-    Where have they gone to--the little girls
-    With natural manners and natural curls;
-    Who love their dollies and like their toys,
-    And talk of something besides the boys?
-
-    Little old women in plenty I find,
-    Mature in manners and old of mind;
-    Little old flirts who talk of their “beaux,”
-    And vie with each other in stylish clothes.
-
-    Little old belles who, at nine and ten,
-    Are sick of pleasure and tired of men;
-    Weary of travel, of balls, of fun,
-    And find no new thing under the sun.
-
-    Once, in the beautiful long ago,
-    Some dear little children I used to know;
-    Girls who were merry as lambs at play,
-    And laughed and rollicked the livelong day.
-
-    They thought not at all of the “style” of their clothes,
-    They never imagined that boys were “beaux”--
-    “Other girls’ brothers” and “mates” were they;
-    Splendid fellows to help them play.
-
-    Where have they gone to? If you see
-    One of them anywhere send her to me.
-    I would give a medal of purest gold
-    To one of those dear little girls of old,
-    With an innocent heart and an open smile,
-    Who knows not the meaning of “flirt” or “style.”
-
-
-
-
-TWO SINNERS.
-
-
-    There was a man, it was said one time,
-    Who went astray in his youthful prime.
-    Can the brain keep cool and the heart keep quiet
-    When the blood is a river that’s running riot?
-    And boys will be boys, the old folks say,
-    And a man is the better who’s had his day.
-
-    The sinner reformed; and the preacher told
-    Of the prodigal son who came back to the fold.
-    And Christian people threw open the door,
-    With a warmer welcome than ever before.
-    Wealth and honor were his to command,
-    And a spotless woman gave him her hand.
-
-    And the world strewed their pathway with blossoms abloom,
-    Crying, “God bless layde, and God bless groom!”
-
-    There was a maiden who went astray,
-    In the golden dawn of her life’s young day.
-    She had more passion and heart than head,
-    And she followed blindly where fond Love led.
-    And Love unchecked is a dangerous guide
-    To wander at will by a fair girl’s side.
-
-    The woman repented and turned from sin,
-    But no door opened to let her in.
-    The preacher prayed that she might be forgiven,
-    But told her to look for mercy--in heaven
-    For this is the law of the earth, we know:
-    That the woman is stoned, while the man may go.
-
-    A brave man wedded her after all,
-    But the world said, frowning, “We shall not call.”
-
-
-
-
-MEG’S CURSE.
-
-
-    The sun rode high in a cloudless sky
-      Of a perfect summer morn.
-    She stood and gazed out into the street,
-      And wondered why she was born.
-    On the topmost branch of a maple-tree
-      That close by the window grew,
-    A robin called to his mate enthralled:
-      “I love but you, but you, but you.”
-
-    A soft look came in her hardened face--
-      She had not wept for years;
-    But the robin’s trill, as some sounds will,
-      Jarred open the door of tears.
-    She thought of the old home far away;
-      She heard the whir-r-r of the mill;
-    She heard the turtle’s wild, sweet call,
-      And the wail of the whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will.
-
-    She saw again that dusty road
-      Whence he came riding down;
-    She smelled once more the flower she wore
-      In the breast of her simple gown.
-    Out on the new-mown meadow she heard
-      Two blue-jays quarrel and fret,
-    And the warning cry of a Phœbe bird:
-      “More wet, more wet, more wet.”
-
-    With a blithe “hello” to the men below
-      Who were spreading the new-mown hay,
-    The rider drew rein at her window-pane--
-      How it all came back to-day!
-    How young she was, and how fair she was;
-      What innocence crowned her brow!
-    The future seemed fair, for Love was there--
-      And now--and now--and now.
-
-    In a dingy glass on the wall near by
-      She gazed on her faded face.
-    “Well, Meg, I declare, what a beauty you are!”
-      She sneered, “What an angel of grace!
-    Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
-      What a thing of beauty and grace!”
-    She reached out her arms with a moaning sob.
-      “Oh, if I could go back!”
-    Then, swift and strange, came a sudden change;
-      Her brow grew hard and black.
-
-    “A curse on the day and a curse on that man,
-      And on all who are his,” she cried.
-    “May he starve and be cold, may he live to be old
-      When all who loved him have died.”
-    Her wild voice frightened the robin away
-      From the branch by the window-sill;
-    And little he knew as away he flew,
-      Of the memories stirred by his trill.
-
-    He called to his mate on the grass below,
-      “Follow me,” as he soared on high;
-    And as mates have done since the world begun
-      She followed, and asked not why.
-    The dingy room seemed curtained with gloom;
-      Meg shivered with nameless dread.
-    The ghost of her youth and her murdered truth
-      Seemed risen up from the dead.
-
-    She hurried out into the noisy street,
-      For the silence made her afraid;
-    To flee from thought was all she sought,
-      She cared not whither she strayed.
-    Still on she pressed in her wild unrest
-      Up avenues skirting the park,
-    Where fashion’s throng moved gayly along
-      In Vanity Fair--when hark!
-
-    A clatter of hoofs down the stony street,
-      The snort of a frightened horse
-    That was running wild, and a laughing child
-      At play in its very course.
-    With one swift glance Meg saw it all.
-      “_His_ child--my God! _his_ child!”
-    She cried aloud, as she rushed through the crowd
-      Like one grown suddenly wild.
-
-    There, almost under the iron feet,
-      Hemmed in by a passing cart,
-    Stood the baby boy--the pride and joy
-      Of the man who had broken her heart.
-    Past swooning women and shouting men
-      She fled like a flash of light;
-    With her slender arm she gathered from harm
-      The form of the laughing sprite.
-
-    The death-shod feet of the mad horse beat
-      Her down on the pavings gray;
-    But the baby laughed out with a merry shout,
-      And thought it splendid play.
-    He pulled her gown and called to her: “Say,
-      Dit up and do dat some more;
-    Das jus’ ze way my papa play
-      Wiz me on ze nursery floor.”
-
-    When the frightened father reached the scene,
-      His boy looked up and smiled
-    From the stiffening fold of the arm, death-cold,
-      Of Meg, who had died for his child.
-    Oh! idle words are a woman’s curse
-      Who loves as woman can;
-    For put to the test, she will bare her breast
-      And die for the sake of the man.
-
-
-
-
-A FABLE.
-
-
-    Some cawing Crows, a hooting Owl,
-    A Hawk, a Canary, an old Marsh-Fowl,
-            One day all met together
-    To hold a caucus and settle the fate
-    Of a certain bird (without a mate),
-            A bird of another feather.
-
-    “My friends,” said the Owl, with a look most wise,
-    “The Eagle is soaring too near the skies,
-            In a way that is quite improper;
-    Yet the world is praising her, so I’m told,
-    And I think her actions have grown so bold
-            That some of us ought to stop her.”
-
-    “I have heard it said,” quoth Hawk with a sigh,
-    “That young lambs died at the glance of her eye,
-            And I wholly scorn and despise her.
-    This and more, I am told, they say;
-    And I think that the only proper way
-            Is never to recognize her.”
-
-    “I am quite convinced,” said Crow with a caw,
-    “That the Eagle minds no moral law;
-            She’s a most unruly creature.”
-    “She’s an ugly thing,” piped Canary Bird;
-    “Some call her handsome; it’s so absurd--
-           She hasn’t a decent feature!”
-
-    Then the old Marsh Hen went hopping about;
-    She said she was sure--she hadn’t a doubt--
-           Of the truth of each bird’s story;
-    And she thought it her duty to stop her flight,
-    To pull her down from her lofty height,
-           And take the gilt from her glory.
-
-    But, lo! from a peak on the mountain grand,
-    That looks out over the smiling land,
-           And over the mighty ocean,
-    The Eagle is spreading her splendid wings--
-    She rises, rises, and upward swings,
-           With a slow, majestic motion.
-
-    Up in the blue of God’s own skies,
-    With a cry of rapture, away she flies,
-           Close to the Great Eternal.
-    She sweeps the world with her piercing sight;
-    Her soul is filled with the Infinite
-           And the joy of things supernal.
-
-    Thus rise forever the chosen of God,
-    The genius-crowned or the power-shod,
-           Over the dust-world sailing;
-    And back like splinters blown by the winds,
-    Must fall the missiles of silly minds,
-           Useless and unavailing.
-
-
-
-
-THE WAY OF IT.
-
-
-    This is the way of it, wide world over,
-    One is beloved, and one is the lover,
-      One gives and the other receives,
-    One lavishes all in wild emotion,
-    One offers a smile for a life’s devotion,
-      One hopes and the other believes.
-    One lies awake in the night to weep,
-    And the other drifts off in a sweet, sound sleep.
-
-    One soul is aflame with a godlike passion,
-    One plays with love in an idler’s fashion,
-      One speaks and the other hears.
-    One sobs “I love you,” and wet eyes show it,
-    And one laughs lightly, and says “I know it,”
-      With smiles for the other’s tears.
-    One lives for the other and nothing beside,
-    And the other remembers the world is wide.
-
-    This is the way of it, sad earth over,
-    The heart that breaks is the heart of the lover,
-      And the other learns to forget.
-    “For what is the use of endless sorrow?
-    Though the sun goes down, it will rise to-morrow;
-      And life is not over yet.”
-    Oh! I know this truth, if I know no other,
-    That passionate Love is Pain’s own mother.
-
-
-
-
-THE SUICIDE.
-
-
-    Vast was the wealth I carried in life’s pack--
-      Youth, health, ambition, hope and trust; but Time
-      And Fate, those robbers fit for any crime,
-    Stole all, and left me but the empty sack.
-    Before me lay a long and lonely track
-      Of darkling hills and barren steeps to climb;
-      Behind me lay in shadows the sublime
-    Lost lands of Love’s delight. Alack! Alack!
-
-    Unwearied, and with springing steps elate,
-      I had conveyed my wealth along the road.
-      The empty sack proved now a heavier load:
-    I was borne down beneath its worthless weight.
-    I stumbled on, and knocked at Death’s dark gate.
-      There was no answer. Stung by sorrow’s goad,
-      I _forced_ my way into that grim abode,
-    And laughed, and flung Life’s empty sack to Fate.
-
-    Unknown and uninvited I passed in
-      To that strange land that hangs between two goals,
-      Round which a dark and solemn river rolls--
-    More dread its silence than the loud earth’s din.
-    And now, where was the peace I hoped to win?
-      Black-masted ships slid past me in great shoals,
-      Their bloody decks thronged with mistaken souls.
-    (God punishes mistakes sometimes like sin.)
-
-    Not rest and not oblivion I found.
-      My suffering self dwelt with me just the same;
-      But here no sleep was, and no sweet dreams came
-    To give me respite. Tyrant Death, uncrowned
-    By my own hand, still King of Terrors, frowned
-      Upon my shuddering soul, that shrank in shame
-      Before those eyes where sorrow blent with blame,
-    And those accusing lips that made no sound.
-
-    What gruesome shapes dawned on my startled sight!
-      What awful sighs broke on my listening ear!
-      The anguish of the earth, augmented here
-    A thousand-fold, made one continuous night.
-    The sack I flung away in impious spite
-      Hung yet upon me, filled, I saw in fear,
-      With tears that rained from earth’s adjacent sphere,
-    And turned to stones in falling from that height.
-
-    And close about me pressed a grieving throng,
-      Each with his heavy sack, which bowed him so
-      His face was hidden. One of these mourned: “Know
-    Who enters here but finds the way more long
-    To those fair realms where sounds the angels’ song.
-      There is no man-made exit out of woe;
-      Ye cannot dash the locked door down and go
-    To claim thy rightful joy through paths of wrong.”
-
-    He passed into the shadows dim and gray,
-      And left me to pursue my path alone.
-      With terror greater than I yet had known.
-    Hard on my soul the awful knowledge lay,
-    Death had not ended life nor found God’s way;
-      But, with my same sad sorrows still my own,
-      Where by-roads led to by-roads, thistle-sown,
-    I had but wandered off and gone astray.
-
-    With earth still near enough to hear its sighs,
-      With heaven afar and hell but just below,
-      Still on and on my lonely soul must go
-    Until I earn the right to Paradise.
-    We cannot force our way into God’s skies,
-      Nor rush into the rest we long to know;
-      But patiently, with bleeding steps and slow,
-    Toil on to where selfhood in Godhood dies.
-
-
-
-
-“NOW I LAY ME.”
-
-
-    When I pass from earth away,
-    Palsied though I be and gray,
-    May my spirit keep so young
-    That my failing, faltering tongue
-    Frames that prayer so dear to me,
-    Taught me at my mother’s knee:
-    “_Now I lay me down to sleep_,”
-    (Passing to Eternal rest
-    On the loving parent breast)
-    “_I pray the Lord my soul to keep_;”
-    (From all danger safe and calm
-    In the hollow of His palm;)
-    “_If I should die before I wake_,”
-    (Drifting with a bated breath
-    Out of slumber into death,)
-    “_I pray the Lord my soul to take_.”
-    (From the body’s claim set free
-    Sheltered in the Great to be.)
-    Simple prayer of trust and truth,
-    Taught me in my early youth--
-    Let my soul its beauty keep
-    When I lay me down to sleep.
-
-
-
-
-THE MESSENGER.
-
-
-    She rose up in the early dawn,
-      And white and silently she moved
-    About the house. Four men had gone
-      To battle for the land they loved,
-    And she, the mother and the wife,
-    Waited for tidings from the strife.
-    How still the house seemed! and her tread
-    Was like the footsteps of the dead.
-
-    The long day passed; the dark night came.
-      She had not seen a human face.
-    Some voice spoke suddenly her name.
-      How loud it echoed in that place,
-    Where, day on day, no sound was heard
-    But her own footsteps. “Bring you word,”
-    She cried to whom she could not see,
-    “Word from the battle-plain to me?”
-
-    A soldier entered at the door,
-      And stood within the dim firelight:
-    “I bring you tidings of the four,”
-      He said, “who left you for the fight.”
-    “God bless you, friend,” she cried, “speak on!
-    For I can bear it. One is gone?”
-    “Ay, one is gone!” he said. “Which one?”
-    “Dear lady, he, your eldest son.”
-
-    A deathly pallor shot across
-      Her withered face; she did not weep.
-    She said: “It is a grievous loss,
-      But God gives His belovèd sleep.
-    What of the living--of the three?
-    And when can they come back to me?”
-    The soldier turned away his head:
-    “Lady, your husband, too, is dead.”
-
-    She put her hand upon her brow;
-      A wild, sharp pain was in her eyes.
-    “My husband! Oh, God, help me now!”
-      The soldier heard her shuddering sighs.
-    The task was harder than he thought.
-    “Your youngest son, dear madam, fought
-    Close at his father’s side; both fell
-    Dead, by the bursting of a shell.”
-
-    She moved her lips and seemed to moan.
-      Her face had paled to ashen gray:
-    “Then one is left me--one alone,”
-      She said, “of four who marched away.
-    Oh, overruling, All-wise God,
-    How can I pass beneath Thy rod!”
-    The soldier walked across the floor,
-    Paused at the window, at the door,
-    Wiped the cold dew-drops from his cheek
-      And sought the mourner’s side again.
-    “Once more, dear lady, I must speak:
-      Your last remaining son was slain
-    Just at the closing of the fight,
-    ’Twas he who sent me here to-night.”
-    “God knows,” the man said afterward,
-    “The fight itself was not so hard.”
-
-
-
-
-ILLOGICAL.
-
-
-    She stood beside me while I gave an order for a bonnet.
-    She shuddered when I said, “And put a bright bird’s wing upon it.”
-    A member of the Audubon Society was she;
-    And cutting were her comments made on worldly folks like me.
-
-    She spoke about the helpless birds we wickedly were harming;
-    She quoted the statistics, and they really _were_ alarming;
-    She said God meant His little birds to sing in trees and skies;
-    And there was pathos in her voice, and tears were in her eyes.
-
-    “Oh, surely, in this beauteous world you can find lovely things
-    Enough to trim your hats,” she said, “without the dear birds’ wings.”
-    I sat beside her that same day, in her own house at dinner--
-    Angelic being that she was to entertain a sinner!
-
-    Her well-appointed table groaned beneath the ample spread;
-    Course followed appetizing course, and hunger, sated, fled.
-    But still my charming hostess urged: “Do have a _reed-bird_, dear;
-    They are so delicate and sweet at this time of the year.”
-
-
-
-
-A SERVIAN LEGEND.
-
-
-    Long, long ago, ere yet our race began,
-    When earth was empty, waiting still for man,
-    Before the breath of life to him was given
-    The angels fell into a strife in heaven.
-
-    At length one furious demon grasped the sun
-    And sped away as fast as he could run,
-    And with a ringing laugh of fiendish mirth,
-    He leaped the battlements and fell to earth.
-
-    Dark was it then in heaven, but light below;
-    For there the demon wandered to and fro,
-    Tilting aloft upon a slender pole
-    The orb of day--the pilfering old soul.
-
-    The angels wept and wailed; but through the dark
-    The Great Creator’s voice cried sternly: “Hark!
-    Who will restore to me the orb of Light,
-    Him will I honor in all heaven’s sight.”
-
-    Then over the battlements there dropped another.
-      (A shrewder angel well there could not be.)
-    Quoth he: “Behold my love for thee, my brother,
-      For I have left all heaven to stay with thee.
-
-    “Thy loneliness and wanderings I will share,
-    Thy heavy burden I will help thee bear.”
-    “Well said,” the demon answered, “and well done,
-    But I’ll not tax you with this heavy sun.
-
-    “Your company will cheer me, it is true,
-    And I could never think of burdening you.”
-    Idly they wandered onward, side by side,
-    Till, by and by, they neared a silvery tide.
-
-    “Let’s bathe,” the angel suddenly suggested.
-      “Agreed,” the demon answered. “I’ll go last,
-    Because I needs must leave quite unmolested
-      This tiresome sun, which I will now make fast.”
-
-    He set the pole well in the sandy turf,
-      And called a jackdaw near to watch the place.
-    Meanwhile the angel paddled in the surf,
-      And playfully dared his brother to a race.
-
-    They swam around together for awhile,
-      The demon always keeping near his prize,
-    Till presently the angel, with a smile,
-      Proposed a healthful diving exercise.
-
-    The demon hesitated. “But,” thought he,
-      “The jackdaw will inform me with a cry
-    If this good brother tries deceiving me;
-      I will not be outdone by him--not I!”
-
-    Down, down they went. The angel in a trice
-      Rose up again, and swift to shore he sped.
-    The jackdaw shrieked, but lo! a mile of ice
-      The demon found had frozen o’er his head.
-
-    He swore an oath, and gathered all his force,
-    And broke the ice, to see the sun, of course,
-    Held firmly in the radiant angel’s hand,
-    Who sailed away toward the heavenly land.
-
-    He gave pursuit. Wrath lent speed to his chase;
-    All heaven leaned down to watch the exciting race.
-    On, on they came, and still the Evil One
-    Gained on the angel burdened with the sun.
-
-    With bated breath and faces white as ghosts,
-    Over the walls leaned heaven’s affrighted hosts.
-    Up, up, still up, the angel almost spent,
-    Threw one foot forward o’er the battlement.
-
-    The demon seized the other with a shout;
-    So fierce his clutch he pulled the bottom out,
-    As the good angel, fainting, laid the sun
-    Down by the throne of God, who cried: “Well done!
-    Thy great misfortune shall be made divine:
-    _Man_ will I create with a foot like thine!”
-
-
-
-
-PEEK-A-BOO.
-
-
-    The cunningest thing that a baby can do
-    Is the very first time it plays peek-a-boo;
-
-    When it hides its pink little face in its hands,
-    And crows, and shows that it understands
-
-    What nurse, and mamma and papa, too,
-    Mean when they hide and cry, “Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.”
-
-    Oh, what a wonderful thing it is,
-    When they find that baby can play like this;
-
-    And everyone listens, and thinks it true
-    That baby’s gurgle means “Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo”;
-
-    And over and over the changes are rung
-    On the marvelous infant who talks so young.
-
-    I wonder if any one ever knew
-    A baby that never played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo?
-
-    ’Tis old as the hills are. I believe
-    Cain was taught it by Mother Eve;
-    For Cain was an innocent baby, too,
-    And I am sure he played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
-
-    And the whole world full of the children of men,
-    Have all of them played that game since then.
-
-    Kings and princes and beggars, too,
-    Everyone has played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
-
-    Thief and robber and ruffian bold,
-    The crazy tramp and the drunkard old,
-
-    All have been babies who laughed and knew
-    How to hide, and play peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.
-
-
-
-
-THE FALLING OF THRONES.
-
-
-    Above the din of commerce, above the clamor and rattle
-      Of labor disputing with riches, of Anarchists’ threats and groans,
-    Above the hurry and hustle and roar of that bloodless battle,
-      Where men are fighting for riches, I hear the falling of thrones.
-
-    I see no savage host, I hear no martial drumming,
-      But down in the dust at our feet lie the useless crowns of kings;
-    And the mighty spirit of Progress is steadily coming, coming,
-      And the flag of one republic abroad to the world he flings.
-
-    The Universal Republic, where worth not birth is royal;
-      Where the lowliest born may climb on a self-made ladder to fame;
-    Where the highest and proudest born, if he be not true and loyal,
-      Shall find no masking title to cover and gild his shame.
-
-    Not with the bellow of guns and not with sabres whetting,
-      But with growing minds of men is waged this swordless fray;
-    While over the dim horizon the sun of royalty, setting,
-      Lights, with a dying splendor, the humblest toiler’s way.
-
-
-
-
-HER LAST LETTER.
-
-
-    Sitting alone by the window,
-      Watching the moonlit street,
-    Bending my head to listen
-      To the well-known sound of your feet,
-    I have been wondering, darling,
-      How I can bear the pain,
-    When I watch, with sighs and tear-wet eyes,
-      And wait for your coming in vain.
-
-    For I know that a day approaches
-      When your heart will tire of me;
-    When by door and gate I may watch and wait
-      For a form I shall not see.
-    When the love that is now my heaven,
-      The kisses that make my life,
-    You will bestow on another,
-      And that other will be--your wife.
-
-    You will grow weary of sinning
-      (Though you do not call it so),
-    You will long for a love that is purer
-      Than the love that we two know.
-    God knows I have loved you dearly,
-      With a passion strong as true;
-    But you will grow tired and leave me,
-      Though I gave up all for you.
-
-    I was as pure as the morning
-      When I first looked on your face;
-    I knew I never could reach you
-      In your high, exalted place.
-    But I looked and loved and worshiped
-      As a flower might worship a star,
-    And your eyes shone down upon me,
-      And you seemed so far--so far.
-
-    And then? Well, then, you loved me,
-      Loved me with all your heart;
-    But we could not stand at the altar,
-      We were so far apart.
-    If a star should wed with a flower
-      The star must drop from the sky,
-    Or the flower in trying to reach it
-      Would droop on its stalk and die.
-
-    But you said that you loved me, darling,
-      And swore by the heavens above
-    That the Lord and all of His angels
-      Would sanction and bless our love.
-    And I? I was weak, not wicked.
-      My love was as pure as true,
-    And sin itself seemed a virtue
-      If only shared by you.
-
-    We have been happy together,
-      Though under the cloud of sin,
-    But I know that the day approaches
-      When my chastening must begin.
-    You have been faithful and tender,
-      But you will not always be,
-    And I think I had better leave you
-      While your thoughts are kind of me.
-
-    I know my beauty is fading--
-      Sin furrows the fairest brow--
-    And I know that your heart will weary
-      Of the face you smile on now.
-    You will take a bride to your bosom
-      After you turn from me;
-    You will sit with your wife in the moonlight,
-      And hold her babe on your knee.
-
-    Oh, God! I never could bear it;
-      It would madden my brain, I know;
-    And so while you love me dearly
-      I think I had better go.
-    It is sweeter to feel, my darling--
-      To know as I fall asleep--
-    That some one will mourn me and miss me,
-      That some one is left to weep,
-
-    Than to die as I should in the future,
-      To drop in the street some day,
-    Unknown, unwept and forgotten
-      After you cast me away.
-    Perhaps the blood of the Saviour
-      Can wash my garments clean;
-    Perchance I may drink of the waters
-      That flow through pastures green.
-
-    Perchance we may meet in heaven,
-      And walk in the streets above,
-    With nothing to grieve us or part us
-      Since our sinning was all through love.
-    God says, “Love one another,”
-      And down to the depths of hell
-    Will he send the soul of a woman
-      Because she loved--and fell?
-
-           *       *       *       *       *
-
-    And so in the moonlight he found her,
-      Or found her beautiful clay,
-    Lifeless and pallid as marble,
-      For the spirit had flown away.
-    The farewell words she had written
-      She held to her cold, white breast,
-    And the buried blade of a dagger
-      Told how she had gone to rest.
-
-
-
-
-BABYLAND.
-
-
-    Have you heard of the Valley of Babyland,
-      The realm where the dear little darlings stay,
-    Till the kind storks go, as all men know,
-      And oh, so tenderly bring them away?
-    The paths are winding and past all finding
-    By all save the storks, who understand
-    The gates and the highways and the intricate by-ways
-          That lead to Babyland.
-
-    All over the Valley of Babyland
-      Sweet flowers bloom in the soft green moss,
-    And under the ferns fair, and under the plants there
-      Lie little heads like spools of floss.
-    With a soothing number the river of slumber
-      Flows o’er a bedway of silver sand;
-    And angels are keeping watch o’er the sleeping
-          Babes of Babyland.
-
-    The path to the Valley of Babyland
-      Only the kingly, kind storks know;
-    If they fly over mountains, or wade through fountains,
-      No man sees them come or go.
-    But an angel maybe, who guards some baby,
-      Or a fairy, perhaps, with her magic wand,
-    Brings them straightway to the wonderful gateway
-          That leads to Babyland.
-
-    And there, in the Valley of Babyland,
-      Under the mosses and leaves and ferns,
-    Like an unfledged starling they find the darling
-      For whom the heart of a mother yearns;
-    And they lift him lightly and snug him tightly
-      In feathers soft as a lady’s hand,
-    And off with a rockaway step they walk away
-          Out of Babyland.
-
-    As they go from the Valley of Babyland
-      Forth into the world of great unrest,
-    Sometimes weeping he wakes from sleeping
-      Before he reaches the mother’s breast.
-    Ah, how she blesses him, how she caresses him,
-      Bonniest bird in the bright home band
-    That o’er land and water the kind stork brought her
-          From far-off Babyland.
-
-
-
-
-FISHING.
-
-
-    Maybe this is fun, sitting in the sun,
-    With a book and parasol, as my angler wishes,
-    While he dips his line in the ocean brine,
-    Under the impression that his bait will catch the fishes.
-
-    ’Tis romantic--yes, but I must confess
-    Thoughts of shady rooms at home somehow seem more inviting.
-    But I dare not move--“Quiet there, my love!”
-    Says my angler, “for I think a monster fish is biting.”
-
-    Oh, of course, it’s bliss--but how hot it is!
-    And the rock I’m sitting on grows harder every minute;
-    Still my fisher waits, trying various baits,
-    But the basket at his side, I see, has nothing in it.
-
-    Oh, it’s just the way to pass a July day,
-    Arcadian and sentimental, dreamy, idle, charming;
-    But how fierce the sunlight falls! and the way that insect crawls
-    Along my neck and down my back is really quite alarming.
-
-    “Any luck?” I gently ask of the angler at his task;
-    “There’s something pulling at my line,” he says; “I’ve almost caught it.”
-    But when, with blistered face, we our homeward steps retrace,
-    We take the little basket just as empty as we brought it.
-
-
-
-
-THE OLD STAGE QUEEN.
-
-
-    Back in her box by the curtains shaded
-      She sits alone, by the house unseen;
-    Her eye is dim and her cheek is faded.
-      She who once was the people’s queen.
-
-    The curtain rolls up, and she sees before her
-      A vision of beauty and youth and grace.
-    Ah! no wonder all hearts adore her,
-      Silver-throated and fair of face.
-
-    Out of her box she leans and listens:
-      O! is it with pleasure or with despair
-    That her thin cheek pales, and her dim eye glistens
-      While that fresh young voice sings the grand old air?
-
-    She is back again in her past’s bright splendor,
-      When life was worth living and love was a truth;
-    Ere Time had told her she must surrender
-      Her double dower of fame and youth.
-
-    It is she herself who stands there singing
-      To that sea of faces, that shines and stirs;
-    And the cheers on cheers that go up ringing
-      And rousing the echoes, are hers, all hers!
-
-    Just for one moment the sweet delusion
-      Quickens her pulses, and blurs her sight,
-    And wakes within her that wild confusion
-      Of joy that is anguish and fierce delight.
-
-    Then the curtain goes down, and the lights are gleaming
-      Brightly o’er circle and box and stall;
-    She starts like a sleeper who wakes from dreaming:
-      Her youth lies under Time’s funeral pall.
-
-    Her day is dead, and her star descended
-      Never to rise or to shine again;
-    Her reign is over, her queenship ended--
-      A new name is sounded and sung by men.
-
-    All the glitter and glow and splendor,
-      All the glory of that lost day,
-    With the friends that seemed true and the love that seemed tender,
-      Why, what is it all but a dead bouquet!
-
-    She rises to go; has the night turned colder?
-      The new queen answers to call and shout;
-    And the old queen looks back over her shoulder
-      As, all unnoticed, she passes out.
-
-
-
-
-THE PRINCESS’S FINGER-NAIL.
-
-A TALE OF NONSENSE LAND.
-
-
-    All through the Castle of High-bred Ease,
-    Where the chief employment was do-as-you-please,
-    Spread consternation and wild despair.
-    The queen was wringing her hands and hair;
-    The maids of honor were sad and solemn;
-    The pages looked blank as they stood in column;
-    The court-jester blubbered, “Boo-hoo, boo-hoo”;
-    The cook in the kitchen dropped tears in the stew;
-    And all through the castle went sob and wail,
-    For the princess had broken her finger-nail:
-    The beautiful Princess Red-as-a-Rose,
-    Bride-elect of the Lord High-Nose,
-    Broken her finger-nail down to the quick--
-    No wonder the queen and her court were sick.
-    Never sorrow so dread before
-    Had dared to enter that castle door.
-    Oh! what would my Lord His-High-Nose say
-    When she took off her glove on her wedding-day?
-    The fairest princess in Nonsense Land,
-    With a broken finger-nail on her hand!
-    ’Twas a terrible, terrible accident,
-    And they called a meeting of parliament;
-    And never before that royal Court
-    Had come such question of grave import
-    As “How could you hurry a nail to grow?”
-    And the skill of the kingdom was called to show.
-    They sent for Monsieur File-’em-off;
-    He smoothed down the corners so ragged and rough.
-    They sent for Madame la Diamond-Dust,
-    Who lived on the fingers of upper-crust;
-    They sent for Professor de Chamois-Skin,
-    Who took her powder and rubbed it in;
-    They sent for the pudgy nurse Fat-on-the-bone
-    To bathe her finger in eau de Cologne;
-    And they called the Court surgeon, Monsieur Red-Tape,
-    To hear what he thought of the new nail’s shape.
-    Over the kingdom the telegrams flew
-    Which told how the finger-nail thrived and grew;
-    And all through the realm of Nonsense Land
-    They offered up prayers for the princess’s hand.
-    At length the glad tidings were heard with a shout
-    That the princess’s finger-nail had grown out:
-    Pointed and polished and pink and clean,
-    Befitting the hand of a some-day queen.
-    Salutes were fired all over the land
-    By the home-guard battery pop-gun band;
-    And great was the joy of my Lord High-Nose,
-    Who straightway ordered his wedding clothes,
-    And paid his tailor, Don Wait-for-aye,
-    Who died of amazement the self-same day.
-    My lord by a jury was judged insane;
-    For they said, and the truth of the saying was plain,
-    That a lord of such very high pedigree
-    Would never be paying his bills, you see,
-    Unless he was out of his head; and so
-    They locked him up without more ado.
-    And the beautiful Princess Red-as-a-Rose
-    Pined for her lover, my Lord High-Nose,
-    Till she entered a convent and took the veil--
-    And this is the end of my nonsense tale.
-
-
-
-
-A BABY IN THE HOUSE.
-
-
-    I knew that a baby was hid in the house;
-      Though I saw no cradle and heard no cry,
-    But the husband went tiptoeing ’round like a mouse,
-      And the good wife was humming a soft lullaby;
-    And there was a look on the face of that mother
-    That I knew could mean only _one_ thing, and no other.
-
-    “The _mother_” I said to myself; for I knew
-      That the woman before me was certainly that,
-    For there lay in the corner a tiny cloth shoe,
-      And I saw on the stand such a wee little hat;
-    And the beard of the husband said plain as could be,
-    “Two fat, chubby hands have been tugging at me.”
-
-    And he took from his pocket a gay picture-book,
-      And a dog that would bark if you pulled on a string;
-    And the wife laid them up with such a pleased look;
-      And I said to myself, “There is no other thing
-    But a babe that could bring about all this, and so
-    That one is in hiding here somewhere, I know.”
-
-    I stayed but a moment, and saw nothing more,
-      And heard not a sound, yet I knew I was right;
-    What else could the shoe mean that lay on the floor,
-      The book and the toy, and the faces so bright?
-    And what made the husband as still as a mouse?
-    I am sure, _very_ sure, there’s a babe in that house.
-
-
-
-
-THE FOOLISH ELM.
-
-
-    The bold young Autumn came riding along
-      One day where an elm-tree grew.
-    “You are fair,” he said, as she bent down her head,
-      “Too fair for your robe’s dull hue.
-    You are far too young for a garb so old;
-      Your beauty needs color and sheen.
-    Oh, I would clothe you in scarlet and gold
-      Befitting the grace of a queen.
-
-    “For one little kiss on your lips, sweet elm,
-      For one little kiss, no more,
-    I would give you, I swear, a robe more fair
-      Than ever a princess wore.
-    One little kiss on those lips, my pet,
-      And lo! you shall stand, I say,
-    Queen of the forest, and, better yet,
-      Queen of my heart alway.”
-
-    She tossed her head, but he took the kiss--
-      ’Tis the way of lovers bold--
-    And a gorgeous dress for that sweet caress
-      He gave ere the morning was old.
-    For a week and a day she ruled a queen
-      In beauty and splendid attire;
-    For a week and a day she was loved, I ween,
-      With the love that is born of desire.
-
-    Then bold-eyed Autumn went on his way
-      In search of a tree more fair;
-    And mob winds tattered her garments and scattered
-      Her finery here and there.
-    Poor and faded and ragged and cold
-      She rocked in her wild distress,
-    And longed for the dull green gown she had sold
-      For her fickle lover’s caress.
-
-    And the days went by and Winter came,
-      And his tyrannous tempests beat
-    On the shivering tree, whose robes of flame
-      He had trampled under his feet.
-    I saw her reach up to the mocking skies
-      Her poor arms, bare and thin;
-    Ah, well-a-day! it is ever the way
-      With a woman who trades with sin.
-
-
-
-
-ROBIN’S MISTAKE.
-
-
-    What do you think Red Robin
-      Found by a mow of hay?
-    Why, a flask brimful of liquor,
-      That the mowers brought that day
-    To slake their thirst in the hayfield.
-      And Robin he shook his head:
-    “Now, I wonder what they call it,
-      And how it tastes?” he said.
-
-    “I have seen the mowers drink it--
-      Why isn’t it good for me?
-    So I’ll just draw out the stopper
-      And get at the stuff, and see!”
-    But alas! for the curious Robin,
-      One draught, and he burned his throat
-    From his bill to his poor crop’s lining,
-      And he could not utter a note.
-
-    And his head grew light and dizzy,
-      And he staggered left and right,
-    Tipped over the flask of brandy,
-      And spilled it, every mite.
-    But after awhile he sobered,
-      And quietly flew away,
-    And he never has tasted liquor,
-      Or touched it, since that day.
-
-    But I heard him say to his kindred,
-      In the course of a friendly chat,
-    “These men think they are above us,
-      Yet they drink such stuff as that!
-    Oh, the poor degraded creatures!
-      I am glad I am only a bird!”
-    Then he flew up over the meadow,
-      And that was all I heard.
-
-
-
-
-NEW YEAR RESOLVE.
-
-
-    As the dead year is clasped by a dead December,
-      So let your dead sins with your dead days lie.
-    A new life is yours and a new hope. Remember
-      We build our own ladders to climb to the sky.
-
-    Stand out in the sunlight of promise, forgetting
-      Whatever the past held of sorrow and wrong.
-    We waste half our strength in a useless regretting;
-      We sit by old tombs in the dark too long.
-
-    Have you missed in your aim? Well, the mark is still shining.
-      Did you faint in the race? Well, take breath for the next.
-    Did the clouds drive you back? But see yonder their lining.
-      Were you tempted and fell? Let it serve for a text.
-
-    As each year hurries by, let it join that procession
-      Of skeleton shapes that march down to the past
-    While you take your place in the line of progression,
-      With your eyes to the heavens, your face to the blast.
-
-    I tell you the future can hold no terrors
-      For any sad soul while the stars revolve,
-    If he will stand firm on the grave of his errors,
-      And instead of regretting--resolve, resolve!
-
-    It is never too late to begin rebuilding,
-      Though all into ruins your life seems hurled;
-    For see! how the light of the New Year is gilding
-      The wan, worn face of the bruised old world.
-
-
-
-
-WHAT WE WANT.
-
-
-    All hail the dawn of a new day breaking,
-      When a strong-armed nation shall take away
-    The weary burdens from backs that are aching
-      With maximum labor and minimum pay;
-    When no man is honored who hoards his millions;
-      When no man feasts on another’s toil.
-    And God’s poor suffering, striving billions
-      Shall share his riches of sun and soil.
-
-    There is gold for all in the earth’s broad bosom,
-      There is food for all in the land’s great store;
-    Enough is provided if rightly divided;
-      Let each man take what he needs--no more.
-    Shame on the miser with unused riches,
-      Who robs the toiler to swell his hoard,
-    Who beats down the wage of the digger of ditches,
-      And steals the bread from the poor man’s board.
-
-    Shame on the owner of mines whose cruel
-      And selfish measures have brought him wealth,
-    While the ragged wretches who dig his fuel
-      Are robbed of comfort and hope and health.
-    Shame on the ruler who rides in his carriage
-      Bought with the labor of half-paid men--
-    Men who are shut out of home and marriage
-      And are herded like sheep in a hovel pen.
-
-    Let the clarion voice of the nation wake him
-      To broader vision and fairer play;
-    Or let the hand of a just law shake him
-      Till his ill-gained dollars shall roll away.
-    Let no man dwell under a mountain of plunder,
-      Let no man suffer with want and cold;
-    We want right living, not mere alms-giving;
-      We want just dividing of labor and gold.
-
-
-
-
-THE TWO GLASSES.
-
-
-    There sat two glasses, filled to the brim,
-    On a rich man’s table, rim to rim.
-    One was ruddy and red as blood,
-    And one was as clear as the crystal flood.
-
-    Said the glass of wine to his paler brother:
-    “Let us tell tales of the past to each other.
-    I can tell of banquet, and revel, and mirth,
-    Where I was king, for I ruled in might;
-    And the proudest and grandest souls on earth
-    Fell under my touch, as though struck with blight.
-    From the heads of kings I have torn the crown;
-    From the heights of fame I have hurled men down;
-    I have blasted many an honored name;
-    I have taken virtue and given shame;
-    I have tempted the youth, with a sip, a taste,
-    That has made his future a barren waste.
-    Far greater than any king am I,
-    Or than any army under the sky.
-    I have made the arm of the driver fail,
-    And sent the train from its iron rail.
-    I have made good ships go down at sea,
-    And the shrieks of the lost were sweet to me.
-    Fame, strength, wealth, genius, before me fall,
-    And my might and power are over all.
-    Ho! ho! pale brother,” laughed the wine,
-    “Can you boast of deeds as great as mine?”
-    Said the glass of water: “I cannot boast
-    Of a king dethroned or a murdered host;
-    But I can tell of hearts that were sad,
-    By my crystal drops made light and glad.
-    Of thirsts I have quenched, and brows I have laved;
-    Of hands I have cooled and souls I have saved.
-    I have leaped through the valley and dashed down the mountain;
-    Slept in the sunshine and dripped from the fountain.
-    I have burst my cloud-fetters and dropped from the sky,
-    And everywhere gladdened the landscape and eye.
-    I have eased the hot forehead of fever and pain;
-    I have made the parched meadows grow fertile with grain;
-    I can tell of the powerful wheel o’ the mill,
-    That ground out the flour and turned at my will;
-    I can tell of manhood, debased by you,
-    That I have uplifted and crowned anew.
-    I cheer, I help, I strengthen and aid,
-    I gladden the heart of man and maid;
-    I set the chained wine-captive free,
-    And all are better for knowing me.”
-
-    These are the tales they told each other,
-    The glass of wine, and its paler brother,
-    As they sat together, filled to the brim,
-    On the rich man’s table, rim to rim.
-
-
-
-
-A PIN.
-
-
-    Oh, I know a certain woman who is reckoned with the good,
-    But she fills me with more terror than a raging lion could.
-    The little chills run up and down my spine whene’er we meet,
-    Though she seems a gentle creature and she’s very trim and neat.
-
-    And she has a thousand virtues and not one acknowledged sin,
-    But she is the sort of person you could liken to a pin.
-    And she pricks you, and she sticks you, in a way that can’t be said--
-    When you seek for what has hurt you, why, you cannot find the head.
-
-    But she fills you with discomfort and exasperating pain--
-    If anybody asks you why, you really can’t explain.
-    A pin is such a tiny thing--of that there is no doubt--
-    Yet when it’s sticking in your flesh, you’re wretched till it’s out!
-
-    She is wonderfully observing. When she meets a pretty girl
-    She is always sure to tell her if her “bang” is out of curl.
-    And she is so sympathetic; to her friend who’s much admired,
-    She is often heard remarking: “Dear, you look so _worn_ and tired!”
-
-    And she is a careful critic; for on yesterday she eyed
-    The new dress I was airing with a woman’s natural pride,
-    And she said: “Oh, how becoming!” and then softly added, “It
-    Is really a misfortune that the basque is such a fit.”
-
-    Then she said: “If you had heard me yestereve, I’m sure, my friend,
-    You would say I am a champion who knows how to defend.”
-    And she left me with a feeling--most unpleasant, I aver--
-    That the whole world would despise me if it hadn’t been for her.
-
-    Whenever I encounter her, in such a nameless way
-    She gives me the impression I am at my worst that day;
-    And the hat that was imported (and that cost me half a sonnet)
-    With just one glance from her round eyes becomes a Bowery bonnet.
-
-    She is always bright and smiling, sharp and shining for a thrust;
-    Use does not seem to blunt her point, nor does she gather rust.
-    Oh! I wish some hapless specimen of mankind would begin
-    To tidy up the world for me, by picking up this pin.
-
-
-
-
-BREAKING THE DAY IN TWO.
-
-
-    When from dawn till noon seems one long day,
-        And from noon till night another,
-    Oh, then should a little boy come from play,
-        And creep into the arms of his mother.
-      Snugly creep and fall asleep,
-        O come, my baby, do;
-      Creep into my lap, and with a nap,
-        We’ll break the day in two.
-
-    When the shadows slant for afternoon,
-        When the midday meal is over;
-    When the winds have sung themselves into a swoon,
-        And the bees drone in the clover.
-      Then hie to me, hie, for a lullaby--
-        Come, my baby, do;
-      Creep into my lap, and with a nap
-        We’ll break the day in two.
-
-    We’ll break it in two with a crooning song,
-      With a soft and soothing number;
-    For the day has no right to be so long
-      And keep my baby from slumber.
-    Then rock-a-by, rock, may white dreams flock
-      Like angels over you;
-    Baby’s gone, and the deed is done
-      We’ve broken the day in two.
-
-
-
-
-THE RAPE OF THE MIST.
-
-
-    High o’er the clouds a Sunbeam shone,
-      And far down under him,
-    With a subtle grace that was all her own,
-      The Mist gleamed, fair and dim.
-
-    He looked at her with his burning eyes
-      And longed to fall at her feet;
-    Of all sweet things there under the skies,
-      He thought her the thing most sweet.
-
-    He had wooed oft, as a sunbeam may,
-      Wave, and blossom, and flower;
-    But never before had he felt the sway
-      Of a great love’s mighty power.
-
-    Tall cloud-mountains and vast space-seas,
-      Wind, and tempest, and fire--
-    What are obstacles such as these
-      To a heart that is filled with desire?
-
-    Boldly he trod over cloud and star,
-      Boldly he swam through space,
-    She caught the glow of his eyes afar
-      And veiled her delicate face.
-
-    He was so strong and he was so bright,
-      And his breath was a breath of flame;
-    The Mist grew pale with a vague, strange fright,
-      As fond, yet fierce, he came.
-
-    Close to his heart she was clasped and kissed;
-      She swooned in love’s alarms,
-    And dead lay the beautiful pale-faced Mist
-      In the Sunbeam’s passionate arms.
-
-
-
-
-THE MANIAC.
-
-
-    I saw them sitting in the shade;
-      The long green vines hung over,
-    But could not hide the gold-haired maid
-      And Earl, my dark-eyed lover.
-    His arm was clasped so close, so close,
-      Her eyes were softly lifted,
-    While his eyes drank the cheek of rose
-      And breasts like snowflakes drifted.
-
-    A strange noise sounded in my brain;
-      I was a guest unbidden.
-    I stole away, but came again
-      With two knives snugly hidden.
-    I stood behind them. Close they kissed,
-      While eye to eye was speaking;
-    I aimed my steels, and neither missed
-      The heart I sent it seeking.
-
-    There were two death-shrieks mingled so
-      It seemed like one voice crying.
-    I laughed--it was such bliss, you know,
-      To hear and see them dying.
-    I laughed and shouted while I stood
-      Above the lovers, gazing
-    Upon the trickling rills of blood
-      And frightened eyes fast glazing.
-
-    It was such joy to see the rose
-      Fade from her cheek forever;
-    To know the lips he kissed so close
-      Could answer never, never.
-    To see his arm grow stark and cold,
-      And know it could not hold her;
-    To know that while the world grew old
-      His eyes could not behold her.
-
-    A crowd of people thronged about,
-      Brought thither by my laughter;
-    I gave one last triumphant shout--
-      Then darkness followed after.
-    That was a thousand years ago;
-      Each hour I live it over,
-    For there, just out of reach, you know,
-      _She_ lies, with Earl, my lover.
-
-    They lie there, staring, staring so
-      With great, glazed eyes to taunt me.
-    Will no one bury them down low,
-      Where they shall cease to haunt me?
-    He kissed her lips, not mine; the flowers
-      And vines hung all about them.
-    Sometimes I sit and laugh for hours
-      To think just how I found them.
-
-    And then I sometimes stand and shriek
-      In agony of terror;
-    I see the red warm in her cheek,
-      Then laugh loud at my error.
-    My cheek was all too pale, he thought;
-      He deemed hers far the brightest.
-    Ha! but my dagger touched a spot
-      That made _her_ face the whitest!
-
-    But oh, the days seem very long,
-      Without my Earl, my lover;
-    And something in my head seems wrong
-      The more I think it over.
-    Ah! look--she is not dead--look there!
-      She’s standing close beside me!
-    Her eyes are open--how they stare!
-      Oh, hide me! hide me! hide me!
-
-
-
-
-WHAT IS FLIRTATION?
-
-
-    What is flirtation? Really,
-      How can I tell you that?
-    But when she smiles I see its wiles,
-      And when he lifts his hat.
-
-    ’Tis walking in the moonlight,
-      ’Tis buttoning on a glove,
-    ’Tis lips that speak of plays next week,
-      While eyes are talking love.
-
-    ’Tis meeting in the ball-room,
-      ’Tis whirling in the dance;
-    ’Tis something hid beneath the lid,
-      More than a simple glance.
-
-    ’Tis lingering in the hallway,
-      ’Tis sitting on the stair,
-    ’Tis bearded lips on finger-tips,
-      If mamma isn’t there.
-
-    ’Tis tucking in the carriage,
-      ’Tis asking for a call;
-    ’Tis long good-nights in tender lights,
-      And that is--no, not all!
-
-    ’Tis parting when it’s over,
-      And one goes home to sleep;
-    Best joys must end, tra la, my friend,
-      But one goes home to weep!
-
-
-
-
-HOW DOES LOVE SPEAK?
-
-
-      How does Love speak?
-    In the faint flush upon the tell-tale cheek,
-    And in the pallor that succeeds it; by
-    The quivering lid of an averted eye--
-    The smile that proves the parent of a sigh:
-      Thus doth Love speak.
-
-      How does Love speak?
-    By the uneven heart-throbs, and the freak
-    Of bounding pulses that stand still and ache,
-    While new emotions, like strange barges, make
-    Along vein-channels their disturbing course,
-    Still as the dawn, and with the dawn’s swift force:
-      Thus doth Love speak.
-
-      How does Love speak?
-    In the avoidance of that which we seek--
-    The sudden silence and reserve when near;
-    The eye that glistens with an unshed tear;
-    The joy that seems the counterpart of fear,
-    As the alarmèd heart leaps in the breast,
-    And knows, and names, and greets its godlike guest:
-      Thus doth Love speak.
-
-      How does Love speak?
-    In the proud spirit suddenly grown meek,
-    The haughty heart grown humble; in the tender
-    And unnamed light that floods the world with splendor;
-    In the resemblance which the fond eyes trace
-    In all fair things to one beloved face;
-    In the shy touch of hands that thrill and tremble;
-    In looks and lips that can no more dissemble:
-      Thus doth Love speak.
-
-      How does Love speak?
-    In wild words that uttered seem so weak
-    They shrink ashamed to silence; in the fire
-    Glance strikes with glance, swift flashing high and higher,
-    Like lightnings that precede the mighty storm;
-    In the deep, soulful stillness; in the warm,
-    Impassioned tide that sweeps thro’ throbbing veins,
-    Between the shores of keen delights and pains;
-    In the embrace where madness melts in bliss,
-    And in the convulsive rapture of a kiss:
-      Thus doth Love speak.
-
-
-
-
-AS YOU GO THROUGH LIFE.
-
-
-    Don’t look for the flaws as you go through life;
-      And even when you find them,
-    It is wise and kind to be somewhat blind
-      And look for the virtue behind them.
-    For the cloudiest night has a hint of light
-      Somewhere in its shadows hiding;
-    It is better by far to hunt for a star,
-      Than the spots on the sun abiding.
-
-    The current of life runs ever away
-      To the bosom of God’s great ocean.
-    Don’t set your force ’gainst the river’s course
-      And think to alter its motion.
-    Don’t waste a curse on the universe--
-      Remember it lived before you.
-    Don’t butt at the storm with your puny form,
-      But bend and let it go o’er you.
-
-    The world will never adjust itself
-      To suit your whims to the letter.
-    Some things must go wrong your whole life long,
-      And the sooner you know it the better.
-    It is folly to fight with the Infinite,
-      And go under at last in the wrestle;
-    The wiser man shapes into God’s plan
-      As water shapes into a vessel.
-
-
-
-
-MEMORY’S RIVER.
-
-
-    In Nature’s bright blossoms not always reposes
-      That strange subtle essence more rare than their bloom,
-    Which lies in the hearts of carnations and roses,
-      That unexplained something by men called perfume.
-    Though modest the flower, yet great is its power
-      And pregnant with meaning each pistil and leaf,
-    If only it hides there, if only abides there,
-      The fragrance suggestive of love, joy and grief.
-
-    Not always the air that a master composes
-      Can stir human heart-strings with pleasure or pain.
-    But strange, subtle chords, like the scent of the roses,
-      Breathe out of some measures, though simple the strain.
-    And lo! when you hear them, you love them and fear them,
-      You tremble with anguish, you thrill with delight,
-    For back of them slumber old dreams without number,
-      And faces long vanished peer out into sight.
-
-    Those dear foolish days when the earth seemed all beauty,
-      Before you had knowledge enough to be sad;
-    When youth held no higher ideal of duty
-      Than just to lilt on through the world and be glad.
-    On harmony’s river they seemed to float hither
-      With all the sweet fancies that hung round that time--
-    Life’s burdens and troubles turn into air-bubbles
-      And break on the music’s swift current of rhyme.
-
-    Fair Folly comes back with her spell while you listen
-      And points to the paths where she led you of old.
-    You gaze on past sunsets, you see dead stars glisten,
-      You bathe in life’s glory, you swoon in death’s cold.
-    All pains and all pleasures surge up through those measures,
-      Your heart is wrenched open with earthquakes of sound;
-    From ashes and embers rise Junes and Decembers,
-      Lost islands in fathoms of feeling refound.
-
-    Some airs are like outlets of memory’s oceans,
-      They rise in the past and flow into the heart;
-    And down them float shipwrecks of mighty emotions,
-      All sea-soaked and storm-tossed and drifting apart:
-    Their fair timbers battered, their lordly sails tattered,
-      Their skeleton crew of dead days on their decks;
-    Then a crash of chords blending, a crisis, an ending--
-      The music is over, and vanished the wrecks.
-
-
-
-
-THE LADY AND THE DAME.
-
-
-    So thou hast the art, good dame, thou swearest,
-      To keep Time’s perishing touch at bay
-    From the roseate splendor of the cheek so tender,
-      And the silver threads from the gold away;
-    And the tell-tale years that have hurried by us
-      Shall tiptoe back, and, with kind good-will,
-    They shall take their traces from off our faces,
-      If we will trust to thy magic skill.
-
-    Thou speakest fairly; but if I listen
-      And buy thy secret and prove its truth,
-    Hast thou the potion and magic lotion
-      To give me also the _heart_ of youth?
-    With the cheek of rose and the eye of beauty,
-      And the lustrous locks of life’s lost prime,
-    Wilt thou bring thronging each hope and longing
-      That made the glory of that dead Time?
-
-    When the sap in the trees sets young buds bursting,
-      And the song of the birds fills the air like spray,
-    Will rivers of feeling come once more stealing
-      From the beautiful hills of the far-away?
-    Wilt thou demolish the tower of reason
-      And fling forever down into the dust,
-    The caution time brought me, the lessons life taught me,
-      And put in their places my old sweet trust?
-
-    If Time’s footprint from my brow is driven,
-      Canst thou, too, take with thy subtle powers
-    The burden of thinking, and let me go drinking
-      The careless pleasures of youth’s bright hours?
-    If silver threads from my tresses vanish,
-      If a glow once more in my pale cheek gleams,
-    Wilt thou slay duty and give back the beauty
-      Of days untroubled by aught but dreams?
-
-    When the soft, fair arms of the siren Summer
-      Encircle the earth in their languorous fold,
-    Will vast, deep oceans of sweet emotions
-      Surge through my veins as they surged of old?
-    Canst thou bring back from a day long vanished
-      The leaping pulse and the boundless aim?
-    I will pay thee double for all thy trouble,
-      If thou wilt restore all these, good dame.
-
-
-
-
-A MARRIED COQUETTE.
-
-
-    Sit still, I say, and dispense with heroics!
-      I hurt your wrists? Well, you have hurt me.
-    It is time you found out that all men are not stoics,
-      Nor toys to be used as your mood may be.
-    _I will not_ let go of your hands, nor leave you
-      Until I have spoken. No man, you say,
-    Dared ever so treat you before? I believe you,
-      For you have dealt only with _boys_ till to-day.
-
-    You women lay stress on your fine perception,
-      Your intuitions are prated about;
-    You claim an occult sort of conception
-      Of matters which men must reason out.
-    So then, of course, when you asked me kindly
-      “To call again soon,” you read my heart.
-    I cannot believe you were acting blindly;
-      You saw my passion for you from the start.
-
-    You are one of those women who charm without trying;
-      The clay you are made of is magnet ore,
-    And I am the steel; yet, there’s no denying
-      You led me to loving you more and more.
-    You are fanning a flame that may burn too brightly,
-      Oft easily kindled, but hard to put out;
-    I am not a man to be played with lightly,
-      To come at a gesture and go at a pout.
-
-    A brute you call me, a creature inhuman;
-      You say I insult you, and bid me go.
-    And you? Oh, you are a saintly woman,
-      With thoughts as pure as the drifted snow.
-    Pah! you are but one of a thousand beauties
-      Who think they are living exemplary lives.
-    They break no commandments, and do all their duties
-      As Christian women and spotless wives.
-
-    But with drooping of lids, and lifting of faces,
-      And baring of shoulders, and well-timed sighs,
-    And the devil knows what other subtle graces,
-      You are mental wantons, who sin with the eyes.
-    You lure love to wake, yet bid it keep under,
-      You tempt us to fall, but bid reason control;
-    And then you are full of an outraged wonder
-      When we get to wanting you, body and soul.
-
-    Why, look at yourself! You were no stranger
-      To the fact that my heart was already on fire.
-    When you asked me to call you knew my danger,
-      Yet here you are, dressed in the gown I admire;
-    For half of the evil on earth is invented
-      By vain, pretty women with nothing to do
-    But to keep themselves manicured, powdered and scented,
-      And seek for sensations amusing and new.
-
-    But when I play at love at a lady’s commanding,
-      I always am certain to win one game;
-    So there--there--there! I will leave my branding
-      On the lips that are free now to cry “Shame, shame!”
-    You hate me? Quite likely! It does not surprise me,
-      Brute force? I confess it; _but still you were kissed_;
-    And one thing is certain--you cannot despise me
-      For having been played with, controlled, and dismissed.
-
-    And the next time you see that a man is attracted
-      By the beauty and graces that are not for him,
-    Don’t lead him on to be half distracted;
-      Keep out of deep waters although you can swim.
-    For when he is caught in the whirlpool of passion,
-      Where many bold swimmers are seen to drown,
-    A man will reach out and, in desperate fashion,
-      Will drag whoever is nearest him down.
-
-    Though the strings of his heart may be wrenched and riven
-      By a maiden coquette who has led him along,
-    She can be pardoned, excused and forgiven,
-      For innocence blindfolded walks into wrong.
-    But she who has willingly taken the fetter
-      That Cupid forges at Hymen’s command--
-    Well, she is the woman who ought to know better;
-      She needs no mercy at any man’s hand.
-
-    In the game of hearts, though a woman be winner,
-      The odds are ever against her, you know;
-    The world is ready to call her a sinner,
-      And man is ready to make her so.
-    Shame is likely, and sorrow is certain,
-      And the man has the best of it, end as it may.
-    So now, my lady, we’ll drop the curtain,
-      And put out the lights. We are through with our play.
-
-
-
-
-A PLEA.
-
-
-    Columbia, large-hearted and tender,
-      Too long for the good of your kin
-    You have shared your home’s comfort and splendor
-      With all who have asked to come in.
-    The smile of your true eyes has lighted
-      The way to your wide-open door;
-    You have held out full hands and invited
-      The beggar to take from your store.
-
-    Your overrun proud sister nations,
-      Whose offspring you help them to keep,
-    Are sending their poorest relations--
-      Their unruly, vicious black sheep.
-    Unwashed and unlettered you take them,
-      And lo! we are pushed from your knee;
-    We are governed by laws as _they_ make them,
-      We are slaves in the land of the free.
-
-    Columbia, you know the devotion
-      Of those who have sprung from your soil.
-    Shall aliens born over the ocean
-      Dispute us the fruits of our toil?
-    Most noble and gracious of mothers,
-      Your children rise up and demand
-    That you bring us no more foster-brothers
-      To breed discontent in the land.
-
-    Be prudent before you are zealous--
-      Not generous only, but just;
-    Our hearts are grown wrathful and jealous
-      Toward those who have outraged your trust.
-    They jostle and crowd in our places,
-      They sneer at the comforts you gave;
-    We say, shut the door in their faces
-      Until they have learned to behave.
-
-    In hearts that are greedy and hateful,
-      They harbor ill-will and deceit;
-    They ask for more favors, ungrateful
-      For those you have poured at their feet.
-    Rise up in your grandeur, and straightway
-      Bar out the bold, clamoring mass;
-    Let sentinels stand at your gateway,
-      To see who is worthy to pass.
-
-    Give first to your own faithful toilers
-      The freedom our birthright should claim,
-    And take from these ruthless despoilers
-      The power which they use to our shame.
-    Columbia, too long you have dallied
-      With foes whom you feed from your store;
-    It is time that your wardens were rallied
-      And stationed outside the locked door.
-
-
-
-
-THE SUMMER GIRL.
-
-
-    She’s the jauntiest of creatures, she’s the daintiest of misses,
-      With her pretty patent leathers or her alligator ties,
-    With her eyes inviting glances and her lips inviting kisses,
-      As she wanders by the ocean or strolls under country skies.
-
-    She’s a captivating dresser, and her parasols are stunning,
-      Her fads will take your breath away, her hats are dreams of style;
-    She is not so very bookish, but with repartee and punning
-      She can set the savants laughing; and make even dudelets smile.
-
-    She has no attacks of talent, she is not a stage-struck maiden;
-      She is wholly free from hobbies, and she dreams of no “career;”
-    She is mostly gay and happy, never sad or care-beladen,
-      Though she sometimes sighs a little if a gentleman is near.
-
-    She’s a sturdy little walker and she braves all kinds of weather,
-      And when the rain or fog or mist drive rival crimps a-wreck,
-    Her fluffy hair goes curling like a kinked-up ostrich feather
-      Around her ears and forehead and the white nape of her neck.
-
-    She is like a fish in water; she can handle reins and racket;
-      From head to toe and finger-tips she’s thoroughly alive;
-    When she goes promenading in a most distracting jacket,
-      The rustle round her feet suggests how laundresses may thrive.
-
-    She can dare the wind and sunshine in the most bravado manner,
-      And after hours of sailing she has merely cheeks of rose;
-    Old Sol himself seems smitten and at most will only tan her,
-      Though to everybody else he gives a danger-signal nose.
-
-    She’s a trifle sentimental, and she’s fond of admiration,
-     And she sometimes flirts a little in the season’s giddy whirl;
-    But win her if you can, sir, she may prove your life’s salvation,
-      For an angel masquerading oft is she, the summer girl.
-
-
-
-
-“THE BEAUTIFUL BLUE DANUBE.”
-
-[With “Blue Danube Waltz” as musical accompaniment.]
-
-
-    They drift down the hall together,
-      He smiles in her lifted eyes;
-    Like waves of that mighty river,
-      The strains of the “Danube” rise.
-    They float on its rhythmic measure,
-      Like leaves on a summer stream;
-    And here, in this scene of pleasure,
-      I bury my sweet, dead dream.
-
-    Through the cloud of her dusky tresses,
-      Like a star shines out her face;
-    And the form his strong arm presses,
-      Is sylph-like in its grace.
-    As a leaf on the bounding river
-      Is lost on the seething sea,
-    I know that forever and ever
-      My dream is lost to me.
-
-    And still the viols are playing
-      That grand old wordless rhyme;
-    And still those two are swaying
-      In perfect tune and time.
-    If the great bassoons that mutter,
-      If the clarionets that blow,
-    Were given a voice to utter
-      The secret things they know,
-
-    Would the lists of the slain who slumber
-      On the Danube’s battle-plains
-    The unknown hosts outnumber
-      Who die, ’neath the “Danube’s” strains?
-    Those fall where cannons rattle,
-      ’Mid the rain of shot and shell;
-    But these, in a fiercer battle,
-      Find death in the music’s swell.
-
-    With the river’s roar of passion
-      Is blended the dying groan;
-    But here, in the halls of fashion,
-      Hearts break and make no moan.
-    And the music, swelling and sweeping,
-      Like the river, knows it all;
-    But none are counting or keeping
-      The lists of those who fall.
-
-
-
-
-THE BIRTH OF THE OPAL.
-
-
-    The Sunbeam loved the Moonbeam,
-      And followed her low and high;
-    But the Moonbeam fled and hid her head--
-      She was so shy, so shy.
-
-    The Sunbeam wooed with passion,
-      Ah! he was a lover bold;
-    And his heart was afire with mad desire
-      For the Moonbeam, pale and cold.
-
-    She fled like a dream before him,
-      Her hair was a shining sheen;
-    And, oh, that Fate would annihilate
-      The space that lay between!
-
-    Just as the Day lay panting
-      In the arms of the Twilight dim,
-    The Sunbeam caught the one he sought
-      And drew her close to him.
-
-    But out of his warm arms startled,
-      And stirred by love’s first shock,
-    She sprang afraid, like a trembling maid,
-      And hid in the niche of a rock.
-
-    And the Sunbeam followed and found her,
-      And led her to love’s own feast,
-    And they were wed on that rocky bed,
-      And the dying Day was their priest.
-
-    And, lo! the beautiful Opal,
-      That rare and wondrous gem,
-    Where the Moon and Sun blend into one,
-     Is the child that was born to them.
-
-
-
-
-SOUNDS FROM THE BASEBALL FIELD.
-
-
-    Batter in the home place,
-      That was nobly done;
-    Try and get the first base--
-      Run! RUN! RUN!
-    Ah, there, short stop, will you miss?
-    Hear the people cheer and hiss,
-      Hear them yell and shout.
-    Twinkling legs and flying feet--
-    (Oh, I wonder who will beat!)
-      Faster, faster, out!
-    Umpire, umpire, go along;
-    That was wrong, sir, that was wrong.
-
-    Pitcher pitches, four balls,
-      “Take your base, my man,”
-    Toward the second now he crawls--
-      “Steal it if you can.”
-    Oh, the ball has gone so high,
-    Can they catch it on the fly?
-     Ah, there is no doubt,
-    He will get his third, I vow--
-    Pshaw! the ball has got there now,
-      “Two men out!”
-    Umpire, umpire, that was wrong;
-    Go along, sir, go along.
-
-    One man on the first base,
-      Not a single run.
-    Boys are warming to the race--
-      Now look out for fun.
-    Pitcher’s arm maybe is tired;
-    Batter sudden seems inspired,
-      Grounds the ball to win.
-    Run there, run there, run your best,
-    I am screaming with the rest:
-      “Two men in!”
-    Umpire, umpire, go away;
-    Dead wrong, dead wrong, sir, I say.
-
-    What’s the matter now, pray?
-      Taking breath, that’s all;
-    But the restless people say
-      “Play ball, play ball.”
-    One ball, two strikes, two balls--“Foul”
-    Umpire calls, and people howl:
-      “What is he about?”
-    Run, run, run, run. Run, RUN, RUN!
-    Half the inning now is done,
-      “Three men out!”
-    Umpire, umpire, go along;
-    You are always, always wrong.
-
-
-
-
-A WALTZ-QUADRILLE.
-
-[With Musical Accompaniment.]
-
-
-    The band was playing a waltz-quadrille;
-      I felt as light as a wind-blown feather,
-    As we floated away at the caller’s will,
-      Through the intricate, mazy dance together.
-        Like mimic armies our lines were meeting,
-        Slowly advancing, and then retreating
-          All decked in their bright array;
-        And back and forth to the music’s rhyme
-        We moved together, and all the time
-          I knew you were going away.
-
-    The fold of your strong arm sent a thrill
-      From heart to brain as we gently glided,
-    Like leaves, on the wave of that waltz-quadrille,
-      Parted, met, and again divided--
-        You drifting one way, and I another;
-        Then suddenly turning and facing each other;
-          Then off in the blithe chassée;
-        Then airily back to our places swaying,
-        While every beat of the music seemed saying
-          That you were going away.
-
-    I said to my heart: “Let us take our fill
-      Of mirth, and music, and love and laughter;
-    For it all must end with this waltz-quadrille,
-      And life will be never the same life after.
-        Oh, that the caller might go on calling,
-        Oh, that the music might go on falling
-          Like a shower of silver spray,
-        While we whirled on to the vast Forever,
-        Where no heart breaks, and no ties sever,
-          And no one goes away.”
-
-    A clamor, a crash, and the band was still--
-      ’Twas the end of the dream, and the end of the measure;
-    The last low notes of that waltz-quadrille
-      Seemed like a dirge o’er the death of Pleasure.
-        You said good-night, and the spell was over--
-        Too warm for a friend, and too cold for a lover--
-          There was nothing else to say;
-        But the lights looked dim, and the dancers weary,
-        And the music was sad and, the hall was dreary,
-          After you went away.
-
-
-
-
-ANSWERED.
-
-
-    Good-bye--yes, I am going.
-      Sudden? Well, you are right;
-    But a startling truth came home to me
-      With sudden force last night.
-    What is it? Shall I tell you--
-      Nay, that is why I go;
-    I am running away from the battle-field,
-      Turning my back on the foe.
-
-    Riddles? You think me cruel!
-      Have you not been most kind?
-    Why, when you question me like that
-      What answer can I find?
-    You fear you failed to amuse me,
-      Your husband’s friend and guest,
-    Whom he bade you entertain and please?
-      Well, you have done your best.
-
-    Then why am I going? Listen:
-      A friend of mine abroad,
-    Whose theories I have been acting upon,
-      Has proven himself a fraud.
-    You have heard me quote from Plato
-      A thousand times, no doubt;
-    Well, I have discovered he did not know
-      What he was talking about.
-
-    You think I am speaking strangely?
-      You cannot understand?
-    Well, let me look down into your eyes,
-      And let me hold your hand.
-    I am running away from danger--
-      I am flying before I fall;
-    I am going because with heart and soul
-      I love you--that is all.
-    There, now, you are white with anger;
-      I knew it would be so.
-    You should not question a man too close
-      When he tells you he must go.
-
-
-
-
-THE SIGN-BOARD.
-
-
-    I will paint you a sign, rumseller,
-      And hang it above your door;
-    A truer and better signboard
-      Than ever you had before.
-    I will paint with the skill of a master,
-      And many shall pause to see
-    This wonderful piece of painting,
-      So like the reality.
-
-    I will paint yourself, rumseller,
-      As you wait for that fair young boy,
-    Just in the morning of manhood,
-      A mother’s pride and joy.
-    He has no thought of stopping,
-      But you greet him with a smile,
-    And you seem so blithe and friendly,
-      That he pauses to chat awhile.
-
-    I will paint you again, rumseller,
-      I will paint you as you stand,
-    With a foaming glass of liquor
-      Extended in your hand.
-    He wavers, but you urge him--
-      Drink, pledge me just this one!
-    And he takes the glass and drains it,
-      And the hellish work is done.
-
-    And next I will paint a drunkard--
-      Only a year has flown,
-    But into that loathsome creature
-      The fair young boy has grown.
-    The work was sure and rapid.
-      I will paint him as he lies.
-    In a torpid, drunken slumber,
-      Under the wintry skies.
-
-    I will paint the form of the mother
-      As she kneels at her darling’s side,
-    Her beautiful boy that was dearer
-      Than all the world beside.
-    I will paint the shape of a coffin,
-      Labeled with one word--“lost,”
-    I will paint all this, rumseller,
-      And will paint it free of cost.
-
-    The sin and the shame and the sorrow,
-      The crime and the want and the woe
-    That are born there in your workshop,
-      No hand can paint, you know.
-    But I’ll paint you a sign, rumseller,
-      And many shall pause to view
-    This wonderful swinging signboard,
-      So terribly, fearfully true.
-
-
-
-
-ABOUT MAY.
-
-
-    One night Nurse Sleep held out her hand
-      To tired little May.
-    “Come, go with me to Wonderland,”
-      She said, “I know the way.
-    Just rock-a-by--hum--m--m,
-      And lo! we come
-    To the place where the dream-girls play.”
-
-    But naughty May, she wriggled away
-      From Sleep’s soft arms, and said:
-    “I must stay awake till I eat my cake,
-      And then I will go to bed;
-    With a by-lo, away I will go.”
-      But the good nurse shook her head.
-
-    She shook her head and away she sped,
-      While May sat munching her crumb.
-    But after the cake there came an ache,
-      Though May cried: “Come, Sleep, come,
-    And it’s oh! my! let us by-lo-by”--
-      All save the echoes were dumb.
-
-    She ran after Sleep toward Wonderland,
-      Ran till the morning light;
-    And just as she caught her and grasped her hand,
-      A nightmare gave her a fright.
-    And it’s by-lo, I hope she’ll know
-      Better another night.
-
-
-
-
-THE GIDDY GIRL.
-
-[This recitation is intended to be given with an accompaniment of waltz
-music, introducing dance-steps at the refrain: “With one, two, three,”
-etc.]
-
-
-    A Giddy young maiden with nimble feet,
-      Heigh-ho! alack and alas!
-    Declared she would far rather dance than eat,
-      And the truth of it came to pass.
-    For she danced all day and she danced all night;
-    She danced till the green earth faded white;
-    She danced ten partners out of breath;
-    She danced the eleventh one quite to death;
-    And still she redowaed up and down--
-    The giddiest girl in town.
-    With one, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three--kick;
-    Chassée back, chassée back, whirl around quick.
-
-    The name of this damsel ended with E--
-      Heigh-ho! alack and a-day!
-    And she was as fair as a maiden need be,
-      Till she danced her beauty away.
-    She danced her big toes out of joint;
-    She danced her other toes all to a point;
-    She danced out slipper and boot and shoe;
-    She danced till the bones of her feet came through.
-    And still she redowaed, waltzed and whirled--
-    The giddiest girl in the world.
-    With one, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three--kick;
-    Chassée back, chassée back, whirl around quick.
-
-    Now the end of my story is sad to relate--
-      Heigh-ho! and away we go!
-    For this beautiful maiden’s final fate
-      Is shrouded in gloom and woe.
-    She danced herself into a patent top;
-    She whirled and whirled till she could not stop;
-    She danced and bounded and sprang so far,
-    That she stuck at last on a pointed star;
-    And there she must dance till the Judgment Day,
-    And after it, too, for she danced away
-    Her soul, you see, so she has no place anywhere out of space,
-    With her one, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three--kick;
-    Chassée back, chassée back, whirl about quick.
-
-
-
-
-DELL AND I.
-
-
-    In a mansion grand, just over the way,
-      Lives bonny, beautiful Dell;
-    You may have heard of this lady gay,
-      For she is a famous belle.
-    I live in a low cot opposite,
-      You never have heard of me;
-    For when the lady moon shines bright,
-      Who would a pale star see?
-    But ah, well, ah, well! I am happier far than Dell,
-      As strange as that may be.
-
-    Dell has robes of the richest kind--
-      Pinks and purples and blues.
-    And she worries her maid and frets her mind
-      To know which one to choose.
-    Which shall it be now, silk or lace?
-      In which will I be most fair?
-    She stands by the mirror with anxious face,
-      And her maid looks on in despair.
-    Ah, well, ah, well! I am not worried, you see, like Dell,
-      For I have but _one_ to wear.
-
-    Dell has lovers of every grade,
-      Of every age and style;
-    Suitors flutter about the maid,
-      And bask in her word and smile.
-    She keeps them all, with a coquette’s art,
-      As suits her mood or mirth,
-    And vainly wonders if in _one_ heart
-      Of all true love has birth.
-    Ah, well, ah, well! I never question myself like Dell,
-      For I _know_ a true heart’s worth.
-
-    Pleasure to Dell seems stale and old,
-      Often she sits and sighs;
-    Life to me is a tale untold,
-      Each day is a glad surprise.
-    Dell will marry, of course, some day
-      After her belleship is run;
-    She will cavil the matter in worldly way
-      And wed Dame Fortune’s son.
-    But, ah, well, sweet to tell, I shall not dally and choose like Dell,
-      For I love and am loved by--_one_.
-
-
-
-
-VANITY FAIR.
-
-
-    In Vanity Fair, as we bow and smile,
-      As we talk of the opera after the weather,
-    As we chat of fashion and fad and style,
-      We know we are playing a part together.
-    You know that the mirth she wears, she borrows;
-    She knows you laugh but to hide your sorrows;
-    We know that under the silks and laces,
-    And back of beautiful, beaming faces,
-    Lie secret trouble and grim despair,
-                    In Vanity Fair.
-
-    In Vanity Fair, on dress parade,
-      Our colors look bright and our swords are gleaming;
-    But many a uniform’s worn and frayed,
-      And most of the weapons, despite their seeming,
-    Are dull and blunted and badly battered,
-    And close inspection will show how tattered
-    And stained are the banners that float above us.
-    Our comrades hate, while they swear to love us;
-    And robed like Pleasure walks gaunt-eyed Care,
-                    In Vanity Fair.
-
-    In Vanity Fair, as we strive for place,
-      As we rush and jostle and crowd and hurry,
-    We know the goal is not worth the race--
-      We know the prize is not worth the worry;
-    That all our gain means loss for another;
-    That in fighting for self we wound each other;
-    That the crown of success weighs hard and presses
-    The brow of the victor with thorns--not caresses;
-    That honors are empty and worthless to wear,
-                    In Vanity Fair.
-
-    But in Vanity Fair, as we pass along,
-      We meet strong hearts that are worth the knowing;
-    ’Mong poor paste jewels that deck the throng,
-      We see a solitaire sometimes glowing.
-    We find grand souls under robes of fashion,
-    ’Neath light demeanors hide strength and passion;
-    And fair fine honor and Godlike resistance,
-    In halls of pleasure may have existence;
-    And we find pure altars and shrines of prayer,
-                    In Vanity Fair.
-
-
-
-
-A GIRL’S AUTUMN REVERIE.
-
-
-    We plucked a red rose, you and I,
-      All in the summer weather.
-    Sweet its perfume and rare its bloom,
-      Enjoyed by us together.
-    The rose is dead, the summer fled,
-      And bleak winds are complaining;
-    We dwell apart, but in each heart
-      We find the thorn remaining.
-
-    We sipped a sweet wine, you and I,
-      All in the summer weather.
-    The beaded draught we lightly quaffed,
-      And filled the glass together.
-    Together watched its rosy glow,
-      And saw its bubbles glitter;
-    Apart, alone, we only know
-      The lees are very bitter.
-
-    We walked in sunshine, you and I,
-      All in the summer weather.
-    The very night seemed noonday bright
-      When we two were together.
-    I wonder why with our good-by
-      O’er hill and vale and meadow
-    There fell such shade, our paths seemed laid
-      Forevermore in shadow.
-
-    We dreamed a sweet dream, you and I,
-      All in the summer weather,
-    Where rose and wine and warm sunshine
-      Were mingled in together.
-    We dreamed that June was with us yet,
-      We woke to find December.
-    We dreamed that we two could forget,
-      We woke but to remember.
-
-
-
-
-GETHSEMANE.
-
-
-    In golden youth, when seems the earth
-    A summer land of singing mirth,
-    When souls are glad and hearts are light,
-    And not a shadow lurks in sight,
-    We do not know it, but there lies,
-    Somewhere veiled under evening skies,
-    A garden all must sometime see--
-    The garden of Gethsemane.
-
-    With joyous steps we go our ways;
-    Love lends a halo to our days.
-    Light sorrows sail like clouds afar,
-    We laugh and say how strong we are!
-    We hurry on, and, hurrying, go
-    Close to the borderland of woe
-    That waits for you, and waits for me,
-    Forever waits--Gethsemane.
-
-    Down shadowy lanes, across strange streams,
-    Bridged over by our broken dreams,
-    Behind the misty caps of years,
-    Beyond the great salt fount of tears
-    The garden lies. Strive as you may,
-    You cannot miss it in your way.
-    All paths that have been or may be,
-    Pass somewhere through Gethsemane.
-
-    All those who journey, soon or late,
-    Must pass within the garden’s gate;
-    Must kneel alone in darkness there,
-    And battle with some fierce despair.
-    God pity those who cannot say
-    “Not mine but Thine;” who only pray
-    “Let this cup pass,” and cannot see
-    The _purpose_ in Gethsemane.
-
-
-
-
-THE COMING MAN.
-
-
-    Oh, not for the great departed,
-      Who formed our country’s laws,
-    And not for the bravest-hearted
-      Who died in freedom’s cause,
-    And not for some living hero
-      To whom all bend the knee,
-    My muse would raise her song of praise--
-      But for the man _to be_.
-
-    For out of the strife which woman
-      Is passing through to-day,
-    A man that is more than human
-      Shall yet be born, I say.
-    A man in whose pure spirit
-      No dross of self will lurk;
-    A man who is strong to cope with wrong,
-      A man who is proud to work.
-
-    A man with hope undaunted,
-      A man with godlike power,
-    Shall come when he most is wanted,
-      Shall come at the needed hour.
-    He shall silence the din and clamor
-      Of clan disputing with clan,
-    And toil’s long fight with purse-proud might
-      Shall triumph through this man.
-
-    I know he is coming, coming,
-      To help, to guide, to save.
-    Though I hear no martial drumming,
-      And see no flags that wave.
-    But the great soul travail of woman,
-      And the bold free thought unfurled,
-    Are heralds that say he is on the way--
-      The coming man of the world.
-
-    Mourn not for vanished ages
-      With their great heroic men,
-    Who dwell in history’s pages
-      And live in the poet’s pen.
-    For the grandest times are before us,
-      And the world is yet to see
-    The noblest worth of this old earth
-      In the men that are to be.
-
-
-
-
-A MAN’S REPENTANCE.
-
-[Intended for recitation at club dinners.]
-
-
-    To-night when I came from the club at eleven,
-      Under the gaslight I saw a face--
-    A woman’s face! and I swear to heaven
-      It looked like the ghastly ghost of--Grace!
-
-    And Grace? why, Grace was fair; and I tarried,
-      And loved her a season as we men do.
-    And then--but pshaw! why, of course, she is married,
-      Has a husband and doubtless a babe or two.
-
-    She was perfectly calm on the day we parted;
-      She spared me a scene, to my great surprise.
-    She wasn’t the kind to be broken-hearted,
-      I remember she said, with a spark in her eyes.
-
-    I was tempted, I know, by her proud defiance
-      To make good my promises there and then.
-    But the world would have called it a mésalliance!
-      I dreaded the comments and sneers of men.
-
-    So I left her to grieve for a faithless lover,
-      And to hide her heart from the cold world’s sight
-    As women do hide them, the wide earth over.
-      My God! _was_ it Grace that I saw to-night?
-
-    I thought of her married, and often, with pity,
-      A poor man’s wife in some dull place.
-    And now to know she is here in the city,
-      Under the gaslight, and with _that_ face!
-
-    Yet I knew it at once, in spite of the daubing
-      Of paint and powder, and she knew me;
-    She drew a quick breath that was almost sobbing,
-      And shrank in the shade so I should not see.
-
-    There was hell in her eyes! She was worn and jaded;
-      Her soul is at war with the life she has led.
-    As I looked on that face so strangely faded,
-      I wonder God did not strike me dead.
-
-    While I have been happy and gay and jolly,
-      Received by the very best people in town,
-    That girl whom I led in the way to folly
-      Has gone on recklessly down and down.
-
-           *       *       *       *       *
-
-    Two o’clock, and no sleep has found me.
-      That face I saw in the street-lamp’s light
-    Peers everywhere out from the shadows around me--
-      I know how a murderer feels to-night!
-
-
-
-
-DICK’S FAMILY.
-
-
-When Dick, the little deformed invalid, hobbled from his bed into his
-chair-lounge at the window, where he reclined all day long, he saw a
-rosy-cheeked young woman polishing the windows across the street.
-
-His pale face tinged with a sudden glow, and his painfully brilliant
-eyes shone with an increased lustre.
-
-“Well, I _declare_ if my house isn’t occupied!” he cried, and he lifted
-the window and peered across the way with such an excited countenance,
-that the young woman opposite paused in her work to regard him. But
-after a moment’s observation the startled look in her face gave place to
-pity, for she saw that the great shining eyes were those of an
-invalid--an invalid child, she thought.
-
-“Poor child; poor little fellow,” she said to herself, “and such a
-pretty face, too!”
-
-But Dick was twenty-two years old, with a man’s heart and a man’s
-longings shut up in his deformed body. But since he was compelled to
-pass his days between a bed and a chair, with an occasional hour down on
-the curbing in the sunlight of a warm day, he found his whole enjoyment
-in his imagination. And wonderful flights it took, flights and freaks
-suspected by no one save good old Dr. Griffin, his one confidant.
-
-He had known Dick ever since his advent into his life of misery. Dick’s
-mother had been the beauty of the street more than a score of years ago.
-Old Benjamin Levy, her father, was a hard man, and to escape the barren
-home and dreary life, pretty Josie eloped with a handsome Christian whom
-she had met while promenading on the street. Her father had uttered a
-terrible curse when the knowledge of her flight came to him; and scarce
-two years later the curse had fallen, for pretty Josie came home to die,
-and to leave her invalid baby as the constant reminder of the fulfilment
-of his curse, to her father.
-
-Dr. Griffin had been retained during all these years as Dick’s
-physician; for the one thing in which old Benjamin showed no parsimony
-was in the care of this little deformed grandchild. A little shop where
-he sold second-hand clothing, and a couple of small rooms above it, for
-living purposes constituted his _ménage_.
-
-Directly opposite was a three-story and basement brick house, which had
-in its day been a semi-fashionable private residence. But as trade
-encroached upon the street, this building had degenerated to an
-apartment house.
-
-While the house stood tenantless, Dick amused himself by imagining that
-it was his own residence.
-
-“It is my house,” he would say, “and I am traveling abroad, and it is
-closed. By and by I shall come home, and there will be a great
-house-warmin’, and lights in every window and flower-pots on the sills,
-and pretty curtains and life and fun; for I am a very rich young man
-with lots of money, and I always have everything very gay around me.”
-
-Dr. Griffin used to encourage the boy in his fancies, thinking they
-relieved the monotony of his dreary life. “Well, I see you are still
-traveling abroad, Dick,” he used to say. “That house of yours is still
-closed. No idea when you will return, have you?”
-
-“No, I’m havin’ too good a time to come back yet awhile,” Dick would
-answer. “Haven’t half seen the world yet.”
-
-But one day there were people moving about on the ground floor of the
-house, and Dick heard his grandfather say it was to be made into flats,
-and let to separate families.
-
-The next time Dr. Griffin called, he greeted the boy with--
-
-“Hello! Dick, welcome home! I see you have returned from abroad.”
-
-Dick shook his head soberly. “Oh, no!” he replied, “I am not back yet.
-But I got tired of havin’ my house stay empty--thought I might as well
-let it help pay my expenses (it’s awful expensive travelin’, you know),
-so I’ve got some tenants in the house. Goin’ to let each floor separate,
-’cause it is too expensive a house for anybody to take whole, ’cept some
-rich feller like me.”
-
-During the last six months the floor exactly opposite Dick’s window had
-been vacant. After three months had passed without a tenant, he told Dr.
-Griffin that he had decided to reserve that floor for his own use.
-
-“I’m goin’ to come home pretty soon and settle down, you see,” he said,
-“and so I thought I’d keep that floor for myself. I don’t need the whole
-house, and I can just as well let the other tenants stay.”
-
-And now, after three months more had passed, here were people moving
-into his apartments!
-
-Dr. Griffin called that very afternoon, and found Dick looking unusually
-animated.
-
-“Well, well, Dick!” he exclaimed. “So, after all you’ve decided to rent
-your apartments? You have neighbors, I see. I fear you will never return
-now and settle down as you intended.”
-
-“Why, that’s no neighbors, Doctor,” replied Dick, contemptuously;
-“that’s my family. I’ve come home to stay, and brought my family, you
-see.”
-
-“You don’t tell me so! Why, what a stupid old fellow I am, to be sure!”
-cried the Doctor, with feigned self-scorn. “How large a family have you,
-Dick?”
-
-“Well, only--only one, as I care ’specially about. Look--look at her,
-Doctor!” catching the Doctor’s hand and leaning forward in his chair.
-“See her a-fixin’ the nice little curtain at the window? She’s a regular
-neat one, she is, my little woman over there. She was a-cleanin’ the
-windows and things this mornin’ with her hair so slick and a span clean
-apron on. That’s the kind of girl I like. I allers liked that kind.
-Isn’t she the right kind, eh, Doctor?”
-
-Dr. Griffin saw a trim young woman with rosy cheeks, looping back scrim
-curtains with pink ribbons. He nodded gravely.
-
-“From my brief acquaintance, I should say she was,” he answered. “I
-congratulate you on your good luck. With such a family as that, you
-ought to be a happy fellow!”
-
-“Queer little fellow; queer little fellow,” he said to himself, as he
-went down the stairs. “Strange notion that about his home and family.”
-
-When Dick awoke the following day he felt a new sense of happiness in
-the thought of his neighbor opposite. He hurried through his tedious
-ceremony of dressing, ate his frugal breakfast, hobbled into his
-invalid-chair, and gave an eager glance across the street. Yes, there
-were the dainty curtains still at the window, so it was no dream. He
-watched for a glimpse of the occupant, but she did not appear. Then he
-laughed a little softly to himself.
-
-“Of course, she wouldn’t be hangin’ around the window at all hours; she
-isn’t that sort; and, of course, I’m over there now, and she’s a-pourin’
-coffee for me; we take breakfast sort of late to-day, ’cause we’re just
-home from Europe, and I haven’t gone down to the office yet. After I get
-off she’ll brush around and set things to right, and--hello! I must have
-gone now you know for there she is a-whiskin’ the dust off the
-window-sill as pretty as ever and as neat as a pin. All the time I’m
-down at the office with them pesky clerks of mine a-botherin’ me I’ll be
-thinkin’ of that sweet little woman up here waitin’ for me.”
-
-“We do have very sociable times,” Dick told the Doctor a month later.
-“That little woman and I seem made for each other. She’s just the right
-sort. We never have no fusses, and things go so comfortable-like all the
-time.”
-
-“And how do you like the other party? There’s a man there also, I see.
-How do you like him?”
-
-Dick flushed painfully, and a deep frown settled on his face. There was
-a man whom he saw from time to time sitting at the window after the
-dinner hour reading his paper. But the moment he made his appearance,
-Dick closed his eyes or left the window seat. He regarded the man as an
-intruder--a shadow upon his home life, a serpent in his Eden.
-
-Sunday was a day of restlessness and discontent, because the man was
-there all day long, and on Sundays he avoided the invalid-chair, which
-was his seat on all other days. Now, when he heard Dr. Griffin speak of
-the man as a real being, he suffered all the bitter and mortifying pangs
-of jealousy which might come to a man who hears a stranger give words to
-a suspicion of his wife’s disloyalty to which he has striven to blind
-himself.
-
-“A man--a--yes--there’s a man there sometimes,” Dick stammered; “he’s
-a--a sort of poor relative, don’t you know. One of my relations, you
-see, and I can’t very well turn him off.”
-
-“Oh, I see,” answered the Doctor, noticing Dick’s confusion and
-hastening to help him out. “Well, everybody has some one of that sort.
-I’ve half a dozen poor relatives who live on me. Some one of them is
-with us most of the time. A little uncomfortable occasionally may be,
-because every man’s house is his castle where he wants to be alone at
-times. But we who have homes have no right to be selfish; we must share
-them with less fortunate people. Happiness must not make us selfish.”
-
-Dick’s face brightened. His heart had grown light and happy while the
-Doctor spoke.
-
-“That’s just what I tell myself and the little woman,” he said. “Often
-she doesn’t like to have the fellow droppin’ in and spoilin’ our chats”
-(Dick felt an immense satisfaction in saying this), “but I tell her with
-just our two selves we’d get selfish with happiness unless we had
-somethin’ to do for another. But he does break up our Sundays
-awfully--scarcely can get a word alone, that fellow’s pokin’ around so.”
-
-“Oh, well, you can afford him one day in the week, and I wouldn’t let
-him bother me; just be as happy as if he wasn’t around.”
-
-Somehow Dick felt much better after this talk. He had tried to ignore
-the presence of the man opposite, but now he could acknowledge it, and
-definitely locate the man in his thought as a poor dependent, who was
-benefitted by his bounty. He enjoyed thinking that the little woman
-objected more or less to the fellow, and that she allowed him so much
-liberty only to please Dick. As the weeks rolled on he confessed to the
-Doctor that the fellow was really useful at times.
-
-“Rainy days he goes to market for the little woman,” he said, “and often
-runs out on errands for us.”
-
-“Dick’s house” had been occupied six months when a whole week passed
-without his seeing his “little woman” at the window. During that six
-months there had scarcely been an afternoon during which she had not sat
-for an hour or two at the window with her sewing. Dick had grown to
-think of that hour as the bright spoke in the wheel of the day. She
-looked at him so kindly and gently, and he used to imagine he was lying
-on a lounge in the room, reading aloud to her as she sewed, and that her
-kind, warm smile was one of love, not of pity. And when a whole week
-passed without his once seeing her, Dick found himself in a nervous
-fever, with a blinding headache from having gazed so eagerly and
-anxiously across the street, and Grandfather Levy sent for Dr. Griffin.
-
-“There’s somethin’ the matter over the way,” whispered Dick, as soon as
-the Doctor was alone with him. “I haven’t seen her for a whole week;
-there’s a strange woman there, and I’m sure she’s sick. I couldn’t sleep
-all last night for worryin’ about her.”
-
-Dr. Griffin went to the window and looked out. Then he took a magnifying
-glass from his pocket, and deliberately stared into the window opposite.
-
-Then he went back to Dick. “My dear fellow,” he said, “you are to be
-congratulated. You are a father. I saw the nurse walking up and down the
-room with the child in her arms. It is a bad habit, by the way, and you
-must tell her not to teach it to the child. You can’t begin too young
-with them.”
-
-After the Doctor went away, Dick buried his face in his pillow and wept
-softly.
-
-“A little baby--yes, my little baby,” he whispered. “God bless the
-little woman. Some day she will sit with it at the window, and I shall
-have them both for company.”
-
-And then one day, a soft, warm day, late in May, there she sat at the
-window again, with lilies instead of roses in her cheeks, and the bundle
-of flannel in her arms. She smiled at Dick, and tears of joy and love
-welled up in his eyes as he gazed upon the two.
-
-“I’ve got two of ’em for company now, the little woman and the baby,” he
-whispered.
-
-After that the days seemed very happy and bright, and Dick thought
-himself the richest man on earth. Only he wondered why the roses did not
-come back to the little woman’s cheeks.
-
-“She doesn’t look as well as she ought to,” he told the Doctor one day
-in June, and the Doctor, peering over his spectacles, shook his head as
-he looked at her, but Dick did not see it.
-
-Passing down the block one day, Dr. Griffin came face to face with a
-little girl who wheeled a baby carriage, and, as he glanced under the
-awning, he was startled to see two weirdly brilliant eyes, the very
-counterpart of Dick’s, gazing up at him.
-
-“Whose child is this? Does it live over in the brick flats there?”
-queried the Doctor.
-
-The little girl nodded.
-
-“Second flight up?”
-
-“Yes, sir.”
-
-“Queer enough, queer enough,” he mused, as he walked on.
-
-“Your baby has eyes exactly like you, Dick,” said the Doctor, a few days
-later. “Honestly, no joking; I saw the little fellow on the street and
-knew him by his eyes.”
-
-After that Dick’s heart went out to the baby more and more, and he was
-eager to see it. One day he saw the little nurse-girl wheeling the
-carriage, and as fast as his lame body would permit he hurried and
-hobbled down to the street, hoping it would pass near him. Sure enough
-it did, and Dick’s heart jumped into his throat as he leaned on his cane
-and peered into the carriage to catch his first glimpse of the baby he
-had grown to think of as his own. Yes, those were his own eyes--his very
-own gazing up at him, and he touched the little hand with reverence and
-awe. The baby laughed and twisted its small soft fingers about his
-thumb, and clung to his hand as if unwilling to let him go. For weeks
-after that he would wake at night, thinking he felt that clinging touch
-upon his hand; and those great dark, startled eyes, the very counterpart
-of his own, seemed illuminating the night for him.
-
-It was early November when he failed to see the baby at the window or on
-the street; nor did the mother appear at the window for four days. The
-morning of the fifth day, Dick saw from his window a little white hearse
-drawn by white ponies pause at the house opposite, and then some one
-came out with a small casket followed by the “male relative” and a few
-sad-faced friends.
-
-That day Dick entered Gethsemane, and the mourners who followed the
-little baby to its last resting-place shed no bitterer tears than he.
-Mixed with his keen anguish for the loss of the child was fear for the
-life of the mother who was too ill to attend the burial.
-
-That night Dr. Griffin was sent for, and he found Dick so ill and
-feverish that he was alarmed. His tears mingled with Dick’s, when the
-poor boy told him of the baby’s death, and begged him to go over and
-inquire after the “little woman.”
-
-“You can ask the janitor, Doctor; just say friends opposite want to
-inquire after her; you needn’t say no more.”
-
-The Doctor did as Dick desired, and came back shortly, making an effort
-to speak cheerfully.
-
-“The janitor says Mrs.--”
-
-“The little woman,” interrupted Dick. “Yes, yes; how is she?” Not for
-worlds would he have heard her name spoken.
-
-“She is ill, suffering from a prostration caused by grief,” the Doctor
-replied. “But she is young, and she will rally in a few weeks no doubt.
-You must brace up, old man, and be ready to comfort her. If you don’t
-look after yourself a little better I won’t promise for the consequences
-to your health. You’ve overtaxed yourself lately, and you must keep very
-quiet now for a few days.”
-
-But each day Dick dragged himself to the window to see if the little
-woman was visible. And on the tenth day after the baby’s funeral, a
-black hearse with nodding black plumes, and black horses with jet
-harness and dangling black tassels, stood at the house opposite; and
-Dick, with panting breath and wild eyes, crawled down the stairs, and
-out upon the street, for he seemed choking in the house, and he thought
-he must hinder those cruel people from taking away the little woman. He
-could not, could not let her go from him forever, and when he saw them
-lifting the casket into the hearse, he reached out his arms, tried to
-cry out and stop them, and then he fell over weak and helpless, with
-strange sounds ringing in his ears and warm blood spurting from his
-mouth. When he awoke to consciousness he was lying on his couch, and Dr.
-Griffin and Grandfather Levy were bending over him with tears in their
-eyes.
-
-He tried to speak, and with each syllable the blood gushed again from
-his lips.
-
-“You mustn’t talk,” said the Doctor. “You are very weak and it may be
-fatal to you if you do not keep quiet.”
-
-He drew the Doctor’s head down close to his lips.
-
-“It’s no use tryin’ to save me,” he whispered. “I’d rather go--I
-couldn’t stand it livin’ on with both of ’em gone. I’ve nothin’ to live
-for now--no ambition or pleasure left. I’ve had all the pleasure I’ll
-ever get out of life, Doctor, this year back. It’s kinder to let me
-go--and--follow my family.”
-
-       *       *       *       *       *
-
-The hemorrhage set in anew, and with the red gushing tide, Dick’s soul
-passed out to seek those of the little woman and the baby.
-
-
-
-
-
-End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of How Salvator Won & Other Recitations, by 
-Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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-
-The Project Gutenberg EBook of How Salvator Won & Other Recitations, by 
-Ella Wheeler Wilcox
-
-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: How Salvator Won & Other Recitations
-
-Author: Ella Wheeler Wilcox
-
-Release Date: April 23, 2020 [EBook #61902]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
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-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOW SALVATOR WON & OTHER ***
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-</pre>
-
-<hr class="full" />
-
-<div class="figc">
-<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" />
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<div class="figc">
-<a href="images/frontis_lg.jpg">
-<img src="images/frontis_sml.jpg" width="299" height="500" alt="" /></a>
-</div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2">{2}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<h1><span class="smcap">How Salvator Won</span></h1>
-
-<p class="c"><small>AND</small><br /><br />
-<br />O T H E R &nbsp; R E C I T A T I O N S<br /><br /><br />
-<small>BY</small><br />
-ELLA &nbsp; WHEELER &nbsp; WILCOX<br /><br />
-<small><span class="smcap">Author of “Maurine,” “Poems of Passion,” “Poems of Pleasure,” “Mal
-Moulée,” “Adventures of Miss Volney,” “A Double Life,” Etc.</span></small><br />
-<br />
-<br />
-<span class="smcap">New York</span><br />
-EDGAR S. WERNER<br />
-1891<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span>
-<br /><br /><br />
-<small>COPYRIGHT, 1891,<br />
-BY<br />
-EDGAR S. WERNER.</small></p>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
-
-<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h2>
-
-<p class="nind"><span class="letra">I</span> AM constantly urged by readers and impersonators to furnish them with
-verses for recitation. In response to this ever-increasing demand I have
-selected, for this volume, the poems which seem suitable for such a
-purpose.</p>
-
-<p>In making my collection I have been obliged to use, not those which are
-among my best efforts in a literary or artistic sense, but those which
-contain the best dramatic possibilities for professionals. Several of
-the poems are among my earliest efforts, others were written expressly
-for this book. In “Meg’s Curse,” which has never before been in print,
-and in several others, I ignored all rules of art for the purpose of
-giving the public reader a better chance to exercise his elocutionary
-powers.</p>
-
-<p class="r">
-E. W. W.<br />
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2>
-
-<table border="0" cellpadding="3" cellspacing="0" summary="">
-<tr><td>&nbsp;</td><td class="rt"><small><small>PAGE</small></small></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ABOUT_MAY">About May</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_132">132</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#AFTER_THE_ENGAGEMENT">After the Engagement</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_24">24</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ANSWERED">Answered</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_128">128</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#AS_YOU_GO_THROUGH_LIFE">As You Go Through Life</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_105">105</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#BABY_IN_THE_HOUSE">Baby in the House, A</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_80">80</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#BABYLAND">Babyland</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_71">71</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#BEAUTIFUL_BLUE_DANUBE">Beautiful Blue Danube, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_120">120</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#BIRTH_OF_THE_OPAL">Birth of the Opal, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_122">122</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#BREAKING_THE_DAY_IN_TWO">Breaking the Day in Two</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_95">95</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#COMING_MAN">Coming Man, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_143">143</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#DELL_AND_I">Dell and I</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_135">135</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#DICKS_FAMILY">Dick’s Family</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_147">147</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#FABLE">Fable, A</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_48">48</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#FALLING_OF_THRONES">Falling of Thrones, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_65">65</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#FALSE">False</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_29">29</a>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#FISHING">Fishing</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_73">73</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#FOOLISH_ELM">Foolish Elm, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_82">82</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#GETHSEMANE">Gethsemane</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_141">141</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#GIDDY_GIRL">Giddy Girl, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_133">133</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#GIRLS_AUTUMN_REVERIE">Girl’s Autumn Reverie, A</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_139">139</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#GOSSIPS">Gossips, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_13">13</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#GRANDPAS_CHRISTMAS">Grandpa’s Christmas</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_20">20</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#HER_LAST_LETTER">Her Last Letter</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_67">67</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#HIS_YOUTH">His Youth</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_38">38</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#HOW_DOES_LOVE_SPEAK">How Does Love Speak</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_103">103</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#HOW_SALVATOR_WON">How Salvator Won</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_9">9</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ILLOGICAL">Illogical</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_58">58</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#KINGDOM_OF_LOVE">Kingdom of Love, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_34">34</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#LADY_AND_THE_DAME">Lady and the Dame, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_109">109</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#MANS_REPENTANCE">Man’s Repentance, A</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_145">145</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#MANIAC">Maniac, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_99">99</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#MARRIED_COQUETTE">Married Coquette, A</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_111">111</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#MEGS_CURSE">Meg’s Curse</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_44">44</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#MEMORYS_RIVER">Memory’s River</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_106">106</a>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#MESSENGER">Messenger, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_55">55</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#NEW_YEAR_RESOLVE">New Year Resolve</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_86">86</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#NOW_I_LAY_ME">“Now I Lay Me”</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_54">54</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#OLD_STAGE_QUEEN">Old Stage Queen, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_75">75</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#PEEK-A-BOO">Peek-a-boo</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_63">63</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#PHANTOM_BALL">Phantom Ball, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_32">32</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#PIN">Pin, A</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_92">92</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#PLATONIC">Platonic</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_16">16</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#PLEA">Plea, A</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_115">115</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#PRINCESSS_FINGER-NAIL">Princess’s Finger Nail, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_77">77</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#RAPE_OF_THE_MIST">Rape of the Mist, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_97">97</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#ROBINS_MISTAKE">Robin’s Mistake</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_84">84</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#SERVIAN_LEGEND">Servian Legend, A</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_60">60</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#SIGN-BOARD">Sign-board, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_130">130</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#SOLITUDE">Solitude</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_18">18</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#SOUNDS_FROM_THE_BASEBALL_FIELD">Sounds From the Base-ball Field</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_124">124</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#SUICIDE">Suicide, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_51">51</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#SUMMER_GIRL">Summer Girl</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_117">117</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#TWO_GLASSES">Two Glasses, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_90">90</a>
-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span></td></tr>
-
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#TWO_SINNERS">Two Sinners</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_42">42</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#UNDER_THE_SHEET">Under the Sheet</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_36">36</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#VANITY_FAIR">Vanity Fair</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_137">137</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#WALTZ-QUADRILLE">Waltz-Quadrille, A</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_126">126</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#WANTED_A_LITTLE_GIRL">Wanted&mdash;a Little Girl</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_40">40</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#WATCHER">Watcher, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_27">27</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#WAY_OF_IT">Way of It, The</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_50">50</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#WHAT_IS_FLIRTATION">What Is Flirtation</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_102">102</a></td></tr>
-<tr><td class="smcap"><a href="#WHAT_WE_WANT">What We Want</a></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_88">88</a></td></tr>
-</table>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i008.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span></p>
-
-<h2><a name="HOW_SALVATOR_WON" id="HOW_SALVATOR_WON"></a>HOW SALVATOR WON.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_t.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="T" /></span>HE gate was thrown open, I rode out alone,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">More proud than a monarch who sits on a throne.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">I am but a jockey, yet shout upon shout<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Went up from the people who watched me ride out;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the cheers that rang forth from that warm-hearted crowd,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Were as earnest as those to which monarch e’er bowed.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">My heart thrilled with pleasure so keen it was pain<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As I patted my Salvator’s soft silken mane;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And a sweet shiver shot from his hide to my hand<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As we passed by the multitude down to the stand.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The great waves of cheering came billowing back,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As the hoofs of brave Tenny rang swift down the track;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And he stood there beside us, all bone and all muscle,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Our noble opponent, well trained for the tussle<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That waited us there on the smooth, shining course.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My Salvator, fair to the lovers of horse,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As a beautiful woman is fair to man’s sight&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Pure type of the thoroughbred, clean-limbed and bright,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Stood taking the plaudits as only his due,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And nothing at all unexpected or new.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And then, there before us the bright flag is spread,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There’s a roar from the grand stand, and Tenny’s ahead;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">At the sound of the voices that shouted “a go!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He sprang like an arrow shot straight from the bow.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I tighten the reins on Prince Charlie’s great son&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He is off like a rocket, the race is begun.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Half-way down the furlong, their heads are together,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Scarce room ’twixt their noses to wedge in a feather;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Past grand stand, and judges, in neck-to-neck strife,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ah, Salvator, boy! ’tis the race of your life.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I press my knees closer, I coax him, I urge,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I feel him go out with a leap and a surge;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I see him creep on, inch by inch, stride by stride,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While backward, still backward, falls Tenny beside.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We are nearing the turn, the first quarter is past&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Twixt leader and chaser the daylight is cast.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The distance elongates, still Tenny sweeps on,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As graceful and free-limbed and swift as a fawn;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">His awkwardness vanished, his muscles all strained&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A noble opponent, well born and well trained.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I glanced o’er my shoulder, ha! Tenny, the cost<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of that one second’s flagging, will be&mdash;the race lost.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One second’s weak yielding of courage and strength,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the daylight between us has doubled its length.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The first mile is covered, the race is mine&mdash;no!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For the blue blood of Tenny responds to a blow.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He shoots through the air like a ball from a gun,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the two lengths between us are shortened to one.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My heart is contracted, my throat feels a lump,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For Tenny’s long neck is at Salvator’s rump;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And now with new courage, grown bolder and bolder,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I see him once more running shoulder to shoulder.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With knees, hands and body I press my grand steed;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I urge him, I coax him, I pray him to heed!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Oh, Salvator! Salvator! list to my calls,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For the blow of my whip will hurt both if it falls.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There’s a roar from the crowd like the ocean in storm,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As close to my saddle leaps Tenny’s great form,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One more mighty plunge, and with knee, limb and hand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I lift my horse first by a nose past the stand.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We are under the string now&mdash;the great race is done,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And Salvator, Salvator, Salvator won!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Cheer, hoar-headed patriarchs; cheer loud, I say:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Tis the race of a century witnessed to-day!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Though ye live twice the space that’s allotted to men<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ye never will see such a grand race again.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Let the shouts of the populace roar like the surf<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For Salvator, Salvator, king of the turf!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He has broken the record of thirteen long years;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He has won the first place in a vast line of peers.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Twas a neck-to-neck contest, a grand, honest race,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And even his enemies grant him his place.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Down into the dust let old records be hurled,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And hang out 2.05 in the gaze of the world.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="c"><img src="images/i012.jpg"
-width="80" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="GOSSIPS" id="GOSSIPS"></a>THE GOSSIPS.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_a.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="A" /></span> ROSE in my garden, the sweetest and fairest,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Was hanging her head through the long golden hours;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And early one morning I saw her tears falling,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And heard a low gossiping talk in the bowers.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The yellow Nasturtium, a spinster all faded,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Was telling a Lily what ailed the poor Rose:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“That wild roving Bee who was hanging about her,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Has jilted her squarely, as everyone knows.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I knew when he came, with his singing and sighing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His airs and his speeches so fine and so sweet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Just how it would end; but no one would believe me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For all were quite ready to fall at his feet.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Indeed, you are wrong,” said the Lily-belle proudly;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“I cared nothing for him, he called on me once,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And would have come often, no doubt, if I’d asked him,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But, though he was handsome, I thought him a dunce.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Now, now, that’s not true,” cried the tall Oleander.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“He has traveled and seen every flower that grows;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And one who has supped in the garden of princes,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We all might have known would not wed with the Rose.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“But wasn’t she proud when he showed her attention?<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And she let him caress her,” said sly Mignonette;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“And I used to see it and blush for her folly,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The silly thing thinks he will come to her yet.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I thought he was splendid,” said pretty pert Larkspur,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“So dark, and so grand with that gay cloak of gold;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But he tried once to kiss me, the impudent fellow!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And I got offended; I thought him too bold.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Oh, fie!” laughed the Almond, “that does for a story.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Though I hang down my head, yet I see all that goes;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I saw you reach out trying hard to detain him,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But he just tapped your cheek and flew by to the Rose.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“He cared nothing for her, he only was flirting<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To while away time, as I very well knew;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So I turned a cold shoulder on all his advances,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Because I was certain his heart was untrue.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“The Rose is served right for her folly in trusting<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">An oily-tongued stranger,” quoth proud Columbine.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“I knew what he was, and thought once I would warn her,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But of course the affair was no business of mine.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Oh, well,” cried the Peony, shrugging her shoulders,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“I saw all along that the Bee was a flirt;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the Rose has been always so praised and so petted,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I thought a good lesson would do her no hurt.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Just then came the sound of a love-song sung sweetly,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I saw my proud Rose lifting up her bowed head;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the talk of the gossips was hushed in a moment,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the flowers all listened to hear what was said.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And the dark, handsome Bee, with his cloak o’er his shoulder,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Came swift through the sunlight and kissed the sad Rose,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And whispered: “My darling, I’ve roved the world over,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And you are the loveliest flower that grows.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="PLATONIC" id="PLATONIC"></a>PLATONIC.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_i.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="I" /></span> KNEW it the first of the summer,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">I knew it the same at the end,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">That you and your love were plighted;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">But couldn’t you be my friend?<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Couldn’t we sit in the twilight,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Couldn’t we walk on the shore<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With only a pleasant friendship<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To bind us, and nothing more?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There was not a word of folly<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Spoken between us two,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Though we lingered oft in the garden<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Till the roses were wet with dew.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We touched on a thousand subjects&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The moon and the worlds above,&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And our talk was tinctured with science,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And everything else, save love.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">A wholly Platonic friendship<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">You said I had proven to you<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Could bind a man and a woman<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The whole long season through,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With never a thought of flirting,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Though both were in their youth.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What would you have said, my lady,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">If you had known the truth!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">What would you have done, I wonder,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Had I gone on my knees to you<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And told you my passionate story,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">There in the dusk and the dew.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My burning, burdensome story,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Hidden and hushed so long&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My story of hopeless loving&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Say, would you have thought it wrong?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But I fought with my heart and conquered,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I hid my wound from sight;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You were going away in the morning,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And I said a calm good-night.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But now when I sit in the twilight,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or when I walk by the sea<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That friendship, quite Platonic,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Comes surging over me.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And a passionate longing fills me<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For the roses, the dusk, the dew;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For the beautiful summer vanished,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For the moonlight walks&mdash;and <i>you</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i017.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="SOLITUDE" id="SOLITUDE"></a>SOLITUDE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_l.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="L" /></span>AUGH, and the world laughs with you;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Weep, and you weep alone;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">For the sad old earth<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Must borrow its mirth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">It has trouble enough of its own.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Sing, and the hills will answer;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sigh, it is lost on the air;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The echoes bound<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To a joyful sound,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But shrink from voicing care.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Rejoice, and men will seek you;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Grieve, and they turn and go;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">They want full measure<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of all your pleasure,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But they do not want your woe.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Be glad, and your friends are many;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Be sad, and you lose them all;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">There are none to decline<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Your nectared wine,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But alone you must drink life’s gall.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Feast, and your halls are crowded;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fast, and the world goes by;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Succeed and give,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And it helps you live,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But it cannot help you die.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There is room in the halls of pleasure<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For a long and lordly train;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But one by one<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We must all file on<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Through the narrow aisles of pain.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i019.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="GRANDPAS_CHRISTMAS" id="GRANDPAS_CHRISTMAS"></a>GRANDPA’S CHRISTMAS.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_i.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="I" /></span>N his great cushioned chair by the fender<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">An old man sits dreaming to-night,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">His withered hands, licked by the tender,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Warm rays of the red anthracite,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Are folded before him, all listless;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">His dim eyes are fixed on the blaze,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While over him sweeps the resistless<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Flood-tide of old days.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He hears not the mirth in the hallway,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He hears not the sounds of good cheer,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That through the old homestead ring alway<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the glad Christmas-time of the year.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He heeds not the chime of sweet voices<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As the last gifts are hung on the tree.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In a long-vanished day he rejoices&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In his lost Used to be.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He has gone back across dead Decembers<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To his childhood’s fair land of delight;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And his mother’s sweet smile he remembers,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As he hangs up his stocking at night.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He remembers the dream-haunted slumber<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All broken and restless because<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of the visions that came without number<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of dear Santa Claus.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Again, in his manhood’s beginning,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He sees himself thrown on the world,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And into the vortex of sinning<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">By Pleasure’s strong arms he is hurled.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He hears the sweet Christmas bells ringing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Repent ye, repent ye, and pray;”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But he joins with his comrades in singing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A bacchanal lay.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Again he stands under the holly<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With a blushing face lifted to his;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For love has been stronger than folly,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And has turned him from vice unto bliss;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the whole world is lit with new glory<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As the sweet vows are uttered again,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While the Christmas bells tell the old story<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of peace unto men.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Again, with his little brood ’round him,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He sits by the fair mother-wife;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He knows that the angels have crowned him<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With the truest, best riches of life;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the hearts of the children, untroubled,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Are filled with the gay Christmas-tide;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the gifts for sweet Maudie are doubled,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">’Tis her birthday, beside.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Again,&mdash;ah, dear Jesus, have pity&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He finds in the chill, waning day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That one has come home from the city&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Frail Maudie, whom love led astray.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She lies with her babe on her bosom&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Half-hid by the snow’s fleecy spread;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A bud and a poor trampled blossom&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And both are quite dead.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">So fair and so fragile! just twenty&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">How mocking the bells sound to-night!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She starved in this great land of plenty,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When she tried to grope back to the light.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Christ, are Thy disciples inhuman,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or only for <i>men</i> hast Thou died?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">No mercy is shown to a woman<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who once steps aside.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Again he leans over the shrouded<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Still form of the mother and wife;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Very lonely the way seems, and clouded,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As he looks down the vista of life.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With the sweet Christmas chimes there is blended<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The knell for a life that is done,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And he knows that his joys are all ended<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And his waiting begun.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">So long have the years been, so lonely,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As he counts them by Christmases gone.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“I am homesick,” he murmurs; “if only<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The Angel would lead the way on.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I am cold, in this chill winter weather;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Why, Maudie, dear, where have you been?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And you, too, sweet wife&mdash;and together&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">O Christ, let me in.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The children ran in from the hallway,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Were you calling us, grandpa?” they said.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then shrank, with that fear that comes alway<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When young eyes look their first on the dead.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The freedom so longed for is given.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The children speak low and draw near:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Dear grandpa keeps Christmas in Heaven<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With grandma, this year.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i023.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="AFTER_THE_ENGAGEMENT" id="AFTER_THE_ENGAGEMENT"></a>AFTER THE ENGAGEMENT.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_w.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="W" /></span>ELL, Mabel, ’tis over and ended&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The ball I wrote was to be;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And oh! it was perfectly splendid&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">If you <i>could</i> have been here to see.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">I’ve a thousand things to write you<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That I know you are wanting to hear,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And one, that is sure to delight you&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I am wearing Joe’s diamond, my dear!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Yes, mamma is quite ecstatic<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That I am engaged to Joe;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She thinks I am rather erratic,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And feared that I might say “no.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But, Mabel, I’m twenty-seven<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">(Though nobody <i>dreams</i> it, dear),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And a fortune like Joe’s isn’t given<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To lay at one’s feet each year.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">You know my old fancy for Harry&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or, at least, I am certain you guessed<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That it took all my sense not to marry<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And go with that fellow out west.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But that was my very first season&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And Harry was poor as could be,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And mamma’s good practical reason<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Took all the romance out of me.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She whisked me off over the ocean,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And had me presented at court,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And got me all out of the notion<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That ranch life out west was my forte.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of course I have never repented&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I’m not such a goose of a thing;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But after I had consented<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To Joe&mdash;and he gave me the ring&mdash;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I felt such a queer sensation.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I seemed to go into a trance,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Away from the music’s pulsation,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Away from the lights and the dance.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the wind o’er the wild prairie<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Seemed blowing strong and free,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And it seemed not Joe, but Harry<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who was standing there close to me.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And the funniest feverish feeling<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Went up from my feet to my head,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With little chills after it stealing&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And my hands got as numb as the dead.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A moment, and then it was over:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The diamond blazed up in my eyes,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I saw in the face of my lover<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A questioning, strange surprise.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Maybe ’twas the scent of the flowers,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That heavy with fragrance bloomed near,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But I didn’t feel natural for hours;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">It was odd now, wasn’t it, dear?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Write soon to your fortunate Clara<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who has carried the prize away,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And say you’ll come on when I marry;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I think it will happen in May.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i026.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="WATCHER" id="WATCHER"></a>THE WATCHER.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_i.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="“I" /></span> THINK I hear the sound of horses’ feet<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Beating upon the graveled avenue.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Go to the window that looks on the street,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">He would not let me die alone, I knew.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Back to the couch the patient watcher passed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And said: “It is the wailing of the blast.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She turned upon her couch and, seeming, slept,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The long, dark lashes shadowing her cheek;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And on and on the weary moments crept,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When suddenly the watcher heard her speak:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“I think I hear the sound of horses’ hoofs&mdash;”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And answered, “<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis the rain upon the roofs.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Unbroken silence, quiet, deep, profound.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The restless sleeper turns: “How dark, how late!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What is it that I hear&mdash;a trampling sound?<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I think there is a horseman at the gate.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The watcher turns away her eyes tear-blind:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“It is the shutter beating in the wind.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The dread hours passed; the patient clock ticked on;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The weary watcher moved not from her place.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The gray dim shadows of the early dawn<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Caught sudden glory from the sleeper’s face.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“He comes! my love! I knew he would!” she cried;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And smiling sweetly in her slumbers, died.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i028.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-<h2><a name="FALSE" id="FALSE"></a>FALSE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_f.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="F" /></span>ALSE! Good God, I am dreaming!<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">No, no, it never can be&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">You who are so true in seeming,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">You, false to your vows and me?<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">My wife and my fair boy’s mother<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The star of my life&mdash;my queen&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To yield herself to another<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Like some light Magdalene!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Proofs! what are proofs&mdash;I defy them!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">They never can shake my trust;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If you look in my face and deny them<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I will trample them into the dust.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For whenever I read of the glory<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of the realms of Paradise,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I sought for the truth of the story<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And found it in your sweet eyes.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Why, you are the shy young creature<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I wooed in her maiden grace;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There was purity in each feature,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And my heaven I found in your face<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And, “not only married but mated,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I would say in my pride and joy;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And our hopes were all consummated<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When the angels gave us our boy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Now you could not blot that beginning<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">So beautiful, pure and true,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With a record of wicked sinning<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As a common woman might do.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Look up in your old frank fashion,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With your smile so free from art;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And say that no guilty passion<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Has ever crept into your heart.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">How pallid you are, and you tremble!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">You are hiding your face from view!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Tho’ a sinner, you cannot dissemble”&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">My God! then the tale is true?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">True and the sun above us<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Shines on in the summer skies?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And men say the angels love us,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And that God is good and wise.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Yet he lets a wanton thing like you<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Ruin my home and my name!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Get out of my sight ere I strike you<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Dead in your shameless shame!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">No, no, I was wild, I was brutal;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I would not take your life,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For the efforts of death would be futile<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To wipe out the sin of a wife.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Wife&mdash;why, that word has seemed sainted,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I uttered it like a prayer.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And now to think it is tainted&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Christ! how much we can bear!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Slay you!” my boy’s stained mother&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Nay, that would not punish, or save;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A soul that has outraged another<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Finds no sudden peace in the grave.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I will leave you here to <i>remember</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The Eden that was your own,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While on toward my life’s December<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I walk in the dark alone.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i031.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="PHANTOM_BALL" id="PHANTOM_BALL"></a>THE PHANTOM BALL.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_y.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="Y" /></span>OU remember the hall on the corner?<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">To-night as I walked down street<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">I heard the sound of music,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And the rhythmic beat and beat,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">In time to the pulsing measure<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Of lightly tripping feet.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And I turned and entered the doorway&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">It was years since I had been there&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Years, and life seemed altered:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Pleasure had changed to care.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But again I was hearing the music<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And watching the dancers fair.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And then, as I stood and listened,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The music lost its glee;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And instead of the merry waltzers<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">There were ghosts of the Used-to-be&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ghosts of the pleasure-seekers<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who once had danced with me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, ’twas a ghastly picture!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Oh, ’twas a gruesome crowd!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Each bearing a skull on his shoulder,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Each trailing a long white shroud,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As they whirled in the dance together,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the music shrieked aloud.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">As they danced, their dry bones rattled<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Like shutters in a blast;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And they stared from eyeless sockets<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">On me as they circled past;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the music that kept them whirling<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Was a funeral dirge played fast.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Some of them wore their face-cloths,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Others were rotted away.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Some had mould on their garments,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And some seemed dead but a day.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Corpses all, but I knew them<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As friends, once blithe and gay.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Beauty and strength and manhood&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And this was the end of it all:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Nothing but phantoms whirling<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In a ghastly skeleton ball.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the music ceased&mdash;and they vanished,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And I came away from the hall.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="KINGDOM_OF_LOVE" id="KINGDOM_OF_LOVE"></a>THE KINGDOM OF LOVE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_i.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="I" /></span>N the dawn of the day when the sea and the earth<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Reflected the sunrise above,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">I set forth with a heart full of courage and mirth<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">To seek for the Kingdom of Love.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">I asked of a Poet I met on the way<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Which cross-road would lead me aright.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And he said: “Follow me, and ere long you shall see<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Its glittering turrets of light.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And soon in the distance a city shone fair.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Look yonder,” he said; “how it gleams!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But alas! for the hopes that were doomed to despair,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">It was only the “Kingdom of Dreams.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then the next man I asked was a gay Cavalier,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And he said: “Follow me, follow me;”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And with laughter and song we went speeding along<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">By the shores of Life’s beautiful sea.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then we came to a valley more tropical far<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Than the wonderful vale of Cashmere,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I saw from a bower a face like a flower<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Smile out on the gay Cavalier.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And he said: “We have come to humanity’s goal:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Here love and delight are intense.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But alas and alas! for the hopes of my soul&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">It was only the “Kingdom of Sense.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">As I journeyed more slowly I met on the road<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A coach with retainers behind.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And they said: “Follow me, for our Lady’s abode<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Belongs in that realm, you will find.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Twas a grand dame of fashion, a newly-made bride,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I followed, encouraged and bold;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But my hopes died away like the last gleams of day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For we came to the “Kingdom of Gold.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">At the door of a cottage I asked a fair maid.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“I have heard of that realm,” she replied;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“But my feet never roam from the ‘Kingdom of Home,’<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">So I know not the way,” and she sighed.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I looked on the cottage; how restful it seemed!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the maid was as fair as a dove.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Great light glorified my soul as I cried:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Why <i>home</i> is the ‘Kingdom of Love!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span>’<span class="lftspc">”</span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="UNDER_THE_SHEET" id="UNDER_THE_SHEET"></a>UNDER THE SHEET.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_w.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="W" /></span>HAT a terrible night! Does the Night, I wonder&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The Night, with her black veil down to her feet<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Like an ordained nun, know what lies under<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">That awful, motionless, snow-white sheet?<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The winds seem crazed, and, wildly howling,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Over the sad earth blindly go.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Do they and the dark clouds over them scowling,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Do they dream or know?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Why, here in the room, not a week or over&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Tho’ it must be a week, not more than one&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(I cannot reckon of late or discover<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When one day is ended or one begun),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But here in this room we were laughing lightly,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And glad was the measure our two hearts beat;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the royal face that was smiling so brightly<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lies under that sheet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I know not why&mdash;it is strange and fearful,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But I am afraid of her, lying there;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She who was always so gay and cheerful,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lying so still with that stony stare:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She who was so like some grand sultana,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Fond of color and glow and heat,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To lie there clothed in that awful manner<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In a stark white sheet.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She who was made out of summer blisses,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Tropical, beautiful, gracious, fair,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To lie and stare at my fondest kisses&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">God! no wonder it whitens my hair.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Shriek, oh, wind! for the world is lonely;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Trail cloud-veil to the nun Night’s feet!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For all that I prized in life is only<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A shape and a sheet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i037.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="HIS_YOUTH" id="HIS_YOUTH"></a>HIS YOUTH.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_d.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="“D" /></span>YING? I am not dying. Are you mad?<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">You think I need to ask for heavenly grace?<br /></span>
-<span class="ih"><i>I</i> think <i>you</i> are a fiend, who would be glad<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">To see me struggle in death’s cold embrace.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“But, man, you lie! for I am strong&mdash;in truth<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Stronger than I have been in years; and soon<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I shall feel young again as in my youth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">My glorious youth&mdash;life’s one great priceless boon.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“O youth, youth, youth! O God, that golden time,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When proud and glad I laughed the hours away.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Why, there’s no sacrifice (perhaps no crime)<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I’d pause at, could it make me young to-day.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“But I’m not <i>old</i>! I grew&mdash;just ill, somehow;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Grew stiff of limb, and weak, and dim of sight.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">It was but sickness. I am better now,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Oh, vastly better, ever since last night.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“And I could weep warm floods of happy tears<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To think my strength is coming back at last,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For I have dreamed of such an hour for years,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As I lay thinking of my glorious past.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“You shake your head? Why, man, if you were sane<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I’d strike you to my feet, I would, in truth.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How dare you tell me that my hopes are vain?<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">How dare you say I have outlived my youth?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“<span class="lftspc">‘</span>In heaven I may regain it?’ Oh, be still!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I want no heaven but what my glad youth gave.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Its long, bright hours, its rapture and its thrill&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">O youth, youth, youth! it is my <i>youth</i> I crave.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“There is no heaven! There’s nothing but a deep<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And yawning grave from which I shrink in fear.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I am not sure of even rest or sleep;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Perhaps we lie and <i>think</i>, as I have here.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Think, think, think, think, as we lie there and rot,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And hear the young above us laugh in glee.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How dare you say I’m dying! <i>I am not.</i><br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I would curse God if such a thing could be.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Why, see me stand! why, hear this strong, full breath&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Dare you repeat that silly, base untruth?”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A cry&mdash;a fall&mdash;the silence known as death<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Hushed his wild words. Well, has he found his youth?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="WANTED_A_LITTLE_GIRL" id="WANTED_A_LITTLE_GIRL"></a>WANTED&mdash;A LITTLE GIRL.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_w.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="W" /></span>HERE have they gone to&mdash;the little girls<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">With natural manners and natural curls;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Who love their dollies and like their toys,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And talk of something besides the boys?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Little old women in plenty I find,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Mature in manners and old of mind;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Little old flirts who talk of their “beaux,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And vie with each other in stylish clothes.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Little old belles who, at nine and ten,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Are sick of pleasure and tired of men;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Weary of travel, of balls, of fun,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And find no new thing under the sun.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Once, in the beautiful long ago,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Some dear little children I used to know;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Girls who were merry as lambs at play,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And laughed and rollicked the livelong day.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">They thought not at all of the “style” of their clothes,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They never imagined that boys were “beaux”&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Other girls’ brothers” and “mates” were they;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Splendid fellows to help them play.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Where have they gone to? If you see<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One of them anywhere send her to me.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I would give a medal of purest gold<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To one of those dear little girls of old,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With an innocent heart and an open smile,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who knows not the meaning of “flirt” or “style.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i041.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="TWO_SINNERS" id="TWO_SINNERS"></a>TWO SINNERS.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_t.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="T" /></span>HERE was a man, it was said one time,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Who went astray in his youthful prime.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Can the brain keep cool and the heart keep quiet<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">When the blood is a river that’s running riot?<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And boys will be boys, the old folks say,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And a man is the better who’s had his day.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The sinner reformed; and the preacher told<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of the prodigal son who came back to the fold.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And Christian people threw open the door,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With a warmer welcome than ever before.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Wealth and honor were his to command,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And a spotless woman gave him her hand.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And the world strewed their pathway with blossoms abloom,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Crying, “God bless layde, and God bless groom!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There was a maiden who went astray,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In the golden dawn of her life’s young day.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She had more passion and heart than head,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And she followed blindly where fond Love led.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And Love unchecked is a dangerous guide<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To wander at will by a fair girl’s side.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The woman repented and turned from sin,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But no door opened to let her in.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The preacher prayed that she might be forgiven,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But told her to look for mercy&mdash;in heaven<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For this is the law of the earth, we know:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That the woman is stoned, while the man may go.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">A brave man wedded her after all,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the world said, frowning, “We shall not call.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i043.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="MEGS_CURSE" id="MEGS_CURSE"></a>MEG’S CURSE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_t.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="T" /></span>HE sun rode high in a cloudless sky<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Of a perfect summer morn.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">She stood and gazed out into the street,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And wondered why she was born.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">On the topmost branch of a maple-tree<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">That close by the window grew,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A robin called to his mate enthralled:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“I love but you, but you, but you.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">A soft look came in her hardened face&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She had not wept for years;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the robin’s trill, as some sounds will,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Jarred open the door of tears.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She thought of the old home far away;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She heard the whir-r-r of the mill;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She heard the turtle’s wild, sweet call,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the wail of the whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She saw again that dusty road<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Whence he came riding down;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She smelled once more the flower she wore<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the breast of her simple gown.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Out on the new-mown meadow she heard<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Two blue-jays quarrel and fret,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the warning cry of a Phœbe bird:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“More wet, more wet, more wet.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">With a blithe “hello” to the men below<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who were spreading the new-mown hay,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The rider drew rein at her window-pane&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">How it all came back to-day!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How young she was, and how fair she was;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">What innocence crowned her brow!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The future seemed fair, for Love was there&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And now&mdash;and now&mdash;and now.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">In a dingy glass on the wall near by<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She gazed on her faded face.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Well, Meg, I declare, what a beauty you are!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She sneered, “What an angel of grace!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">What a thing of beauty and grace!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She reached out her arms with a moaning sob.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Oh, if I could go back!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then, swift and strange, came a sudden change;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her brow grew hard and black.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“A curse on the day and a curse on that man,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And on all who are his,” she cried.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“May he starve and be cold, may he live to be old<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When all who loved him have died.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her wild voice frightened the robin away<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From the branch by the window-sill;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And little he knew as away he flew,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of the memories stirred by his trill.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He called to his mate on the grass below,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Follow me,” as he soared on high;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And as mates have done since the world begun<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She followed, and asked not why.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The dingy room seemed curtained with gloom;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Meg shivered with nameless dread.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The ghost of her youth and her murdered truth<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Seemed risen up from the dead.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She hurried out into the noisy street,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For the silence made her afraid;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To flee from thought was all she sought,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She cared not whither she strayed.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Still on she pressed in her wild unrest<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Up avenues skirting the park,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where fashion’s throng moved gayly along<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In Vanity Fair&mdash;when hark!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">A clatter of hoofs down the stony street,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The snort of a frightened horse<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That was running wild, and a laughing child<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">At play in its very course.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With one swift glance Meg saw it all.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“<i>His</i> child&mdash;my God! <i>his</i> child!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She cried aloud, as she rushed through the crowd<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Like one grown suddenly wild.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There, almost under the iron feet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Hemmed in by a passing cart,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Stood the baby boy&mdash;the pride and joy<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of the man who had broken her heart.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Past swooning women and shouting men<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She fled like a flash of light;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With her slender arm she gathered from harm<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The form of the laughing sprite.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The death-shod feet of the mad horse beat<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her down on the pavings gray;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the baby laughed out with a merry shout,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And thought it splendid play.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He pulled her gown and called to her: “Say,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Dit up and do dat some more;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Das jus’ ze way my papa play<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Wiz me on ze nursery floor.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When the frightened father reached the scene,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His boy looked up and smiled<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From the stiffening fold of the arm, death-cold,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of Meg, who had died for his child.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Oh! idle words are a woman’s curse<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who loves as woman can;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For put to the test, she will bare her breast<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And die for the sake of the man.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="FABLE" id="FABLE"></a>A FABLE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_s.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="S" /></span>OME cawing Crows, a hooting Owl,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">A Hawk, a Canary, an old Marsh-Fowl,<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">One day all met together<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">To hold a caucus and settle the fate<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of a certain bird (without a mate),<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">A bird of another feather.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“My friends,” said the Owl, with a look most wise,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“The Eagle is soaring too near the skies,<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">In a way that is quite improper;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Yet the world is praising her, so I’m told,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I think her actions have grown so bold<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">That some of us ought to stop her.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I have heard it said,” quoth Hawk with a sigh,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“That young lambs died at the glance of her eye,<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">And I wholly scorn and despise her.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">This and more, I am told, they say;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I think that the only proper way<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">Is never to recognize her.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I am quite convinced,” said Crow with a caw,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“That the Eagle minds no moral law;<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">She’s a most unruly creature.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“She’s an ugly thing,” piped Canary Bird;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Some call her handsome; it’s so absurd&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">She hasn’t a decent feature!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then the old Marsh Hen went hopping about;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She said she was sure&mdash;she hadn’t a doubt&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">Of the truth of each bird’s story;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And she thought it her duty to stop her flight,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To pull her down from her lofty height,<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">And take the gilt from her glory.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But, lo! from a peak on the mountain grand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That looks out over the smiling land,<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">And over the mighty ocean,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The Eagle is spreading her splendid wings&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She rises, rises, and upward swings,<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">With a slow, majestic motion.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Up in the blue of God’s own skies,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With a cry of rapture, away she flies,<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">Close to the Great Eternal.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She sweeps the world with her piercing sight;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her soul is filled with the Infinite<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">And the joy of things supernal.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Thus rise forever the chosen of God,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The genius-crowned or the power-shod,<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">Over the dust-world sailing;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And back like splinters blown by the winds,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Must fall the missiles of silly minds,<br /></span>
-<span class="i5">Useless and unavailing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="WAY_OF_IT" id="WAY_OF_IT"></a>THE WAY OF IT.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_t.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="T" /></span>HIS is the way of it, wide world over,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">One is beloved, and one is the lover,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">One gives and the other receives,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">One lavishes all in wild emotion,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">One offers a smile for a life’s devotion,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">One hopes and the other believes.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One lies awake in the night to weep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the other drifts off in a sweet, sound sleep.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">One soul is aflame with a godlike passion,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One plays with love in an idler’s fashion,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">One speaks and the other hears.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One sobs “I love you,” and wet eyes show it,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And one laughs lightly, and says “I know it,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With smiles for the other’s tears.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One lives for the other and nothing beside,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the other remembers the world is wide.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">This is the way of it, sad earth over,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The heart that breaks is the heart of the lover,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the other learns to forget.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“For what is the use of endless sorrow?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Though the sun goes down, it will rise to-morrow;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And life is not over yet.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Oh! I know this truth, if I know no other,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That passionate Love is Pain’s own mother.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="SUICIDE" id="SUICIDE"></a>THE SUICIDE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_v.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="V" /></span>AST was the wealth I carried in life’s pack&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Youth, health, ambition, hope and trust; but Time<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And Fate, those robbers fit for any crime,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Stole all, and left me but the empty sack.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Before me lay a long and lonely track<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of darkling hills and barren steeps to climb;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Behind me lay in shadows the sublime<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Lost lands of Love’s delight. Alack! Alack!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Unwearied, and with springing steps elate,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I had conveyed my wealth along the road.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The empty sack proved now a heavier load:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I was borne down beneath its worthless weight.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I stumbled on, and knocked at Death’s dark gate.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">There was no answer. Stung by sorrow’s goad,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I <i>forced</i> my way into that grim abode,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And laughed, and flung Life’s empty sack to Fate.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Unknown and uninvited I passed in<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To that strange land that hangs between two goals,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Round which a dark and solemn river rolls&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">More dread its silence than the loud earth’s din.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And now, where was the peace I hoped to win?<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Black-masted ships slid past me in great shoals,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Their bloody decks thronged with mistaken souls.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(God punishes mistakes sometimes like sin.)<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Not rest and not oblivion I found.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">My suffering self dwelt with me just the same;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But here no sleep was, and no sweet dreams came<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To give me respite. Tyrant Death, uncrowned<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">By my own hand, still King of Terrors, frowned<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Upon my shuddering soul, that shrank in shame<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Before those eyes where sorrow blent with blame,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And those accusing lips that made no sound.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">What gruesome shapes dawned on my startled sight!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">What awful sighs broke on my listening ear!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The anguish of the earth, augmented here<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A thousand-fold, made one continuous night.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The sack I flung away in impious spite<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Hung yet upon me, filled, I saw in fear,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With tears that rained from earth’s adjacent sphere,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And turned to stones in falling from that height.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And close about me pressed a grieving throng,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Each with his heavy sack, which bowed him so<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His face was hidden. One of these mourned: “Know<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who enters here but finds the way more long<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To those fair realms where sounds the angels’ song.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">There is no man-made exit out of woe;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Ye cannot dash the locked door down and go<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To claim thy rightful joy through paths of wrong.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He passed into the shadows dim and gray,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And left me to pursue my path alone.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With terror greater than I yet had known.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Hard on my soul the awful knowledge lay,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Death had not ended life nor found God’s way;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But, with my same sad sorrows still my own,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where by-roads led to by-roads, thistle-sown,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I had but wandered off and gone astray.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">With earth still near enough to hear its sighs,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With heaven afar and hell but just below,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Still on and on my lonely soul must go<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Until I earn the right to Paradise.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We cannot force our way into God’s skies,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Nor rush into the rest we long to know;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But patiently, with bleeding steps and slow,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Toil on to where selfhood in Godhood dies.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="NOW_I_LAY_ME" id="NOW_I_LAY_ME"></a>“NOW I LAY ME.”</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_w.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="W" /></span>HEN I pass from earth away,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Palsied though I be and gray,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">May my spirit keep so young<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">That my failing, faltering tongue<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Frames that prayer so dear to me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Taught me at my mother’s knee:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“<i>Now I lay me down to sleep</i>,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(Passing to Eternal rest<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On the loving parent breast)<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“<i>I pray the Lord my soul to keep</i>;”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(From all danger safe and calm<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In the hollow of His palm;)<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“<i>If I should die before I wake</i>,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(Drifting with a bated breath<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Out of slumber into death,)<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“<i>I pray the Lord my soul to take</i>.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(From the body’s claim set free<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sheltered in the Great to be.)<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Simple prayer of trust and truth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Taught me in my early youth&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Let my soul its beauty keep<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When I lay me down to sleep.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="MESSENGER" id="MESSENGER"></a>THE MESSENGER.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_s.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="S" /></span>HE rose up in the early dawn,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And white and silently she moved<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">About the house. Four men had gone<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">To battle for the land they loved,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And she, the mother and the wife,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Waited for tidings from the strife.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How still the house seemed! and her tread<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Was like the footsteps of the dead.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The long day passed; the dark night came.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She had not seen a human face.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Some voice spoke suddenly her name.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">How loud it echoed in that place,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where, day on day, no sound was heard<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But her own footsteps. “Bring you word,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She cried to whom she could not see,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Word from the battle-plain to me?”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">A soldier entered at the door,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And stood within the dim firelight:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“I bring you tidings of the four,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He said, “who left you for the fight.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“God bless you, friend,” she cried, “speak on!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For I can bear it. One is gone?”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Ay, one is gone!” he said. “Which one?”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Dear lady, he, your eldest son.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">A deathly pallor shot across<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her withered face; she did not weep.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She said: “It is a grievous loss,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But God gives His belovèd sleep.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What of the living&mdash;of the three?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And when can they come back to me?”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The soldier turned away his head:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Lady, your husband, too, is dead.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She put her hand upon her brow;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A wild, sharp pain was in her eyes.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“My husband! Oh, God, help me now!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The soldier heard her shuddering sighs.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The task was harder than he thought.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Your youngest son, dear madam, fought<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Close at his father’s side; both fell<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Dead, by the bursting of a shell.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She moved her lips and seemed to moan.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her face had paled to ashen gray:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Then one is left me&mdash;one alone,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She said, “of four who marched away.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Oh, overruling, All-wise God,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How can I pass beneath Thy rod!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The soldier walked across the floor,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Paused at the window, at the door,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Wiped the cold dew-drops from his cheek<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And sought the mourner’s side again.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Once more, dear lady, I must speak:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Your last remaining son was slain<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Just at the closing of the fight,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Twas he who sent me here to-night.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“God knows,” the man said afterward,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“The fight itself was not so hard.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i057.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="ILLOGICAL" id="ILLOGICAL"></a>ILLOGICAL.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_s.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="S" /></span>HE stood beside me while I gave an order for a bonnet.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">She shuddered when I said, “And put a bright bird’s wing upon it.”<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">A member of the Audubon Society was she;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And cutting were her comments made on worldly folks like me.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She spoke about the helpless birds we wickedly were harming;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She quoted the statistics, and they really <i>were</i> alarming;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She said God meant His little birds to sing in trees and skies;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And there was pathos in her voice, and tears were in her eyes.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Oh, surely, in this beauteous world you can find lovely things<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Enough to trim your hats,” she said, “without the dear birds’ wings.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I sat beside her that same day, in her own house at dinner&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Angelic being that she was to entertain a sinner!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Her well-appointed table groaned beneath the ample spread;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Course followed appetizing course, and hunger, sated, fled.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But still my charming hostess urged: “Do have a <i>reed-bird</i>, dear;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They are so delicate and sweet at this time of the year.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i059.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="SERVIAN_LEGEND" id="SERVIAN_LEGEND"></a>A SERVIAN LEGEND.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_l.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="L" /></span>ONG, long ago, ere yet our race began,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">When earth was empty, waiting still for man,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Before the breath of life to him was given<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The angels fell into a strife in heaven.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">At length one furious demon grasped the sun<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And sped away as fast as he could run,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And with a ringing laugh of fiendish mirth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He leaped the battlements and fell to earth.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Dark was it then in heaven, but light below;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For there the demon wandered to and fro,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Tilting aloft upon a slender pole<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The orb of day&mdash;the pilfering old soul.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The angels wept and wailed; but through the dark<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The Great Creator’s voice cried sternly: “Hark!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who will restore to me the orb of Light,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Him will I honor in all heaven’s sight.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then over the battlements there dropped another.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">(A shrewder angel well there could not be.)<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Quoth he: “Behold my love for thee, my brother,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For I have left all heaven to stay with thee.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Thy loneliness and wanderings I will share,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thy heavy burden I will help thee bear.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Well said,” the demon answered, “and well done,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But I’ll not tax you with this heavy sun.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Your company will cheer me, it is true,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I could never think of burdening you.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Idly they wandered onward, side by side,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till, by and by, they neared a silvery tide.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Let’s bathe,” the angel suddenly suggested.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Agreed,” the demon answered. “I’ll go last,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Because I needs must leave quite unmolested<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">This tiresome sun, which I will now make fast.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He set the pole well in the sandy turf,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And called a jackdaw near to watch the place.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Meanwhile the angel paddled in the surf,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And playfully dared his brother to a race.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">They swam around together for awhile,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The demon always keeping near his prize,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till presently the angel, with a smile,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Proposed a healthful diving exercise.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The demon hesitated. “But,” thought he,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“The jackdaw will inform me with a cry<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If this good brother tries deceiving me;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I will not be outdone by him&mdash;not I!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Down, down they went. The angel in a trice<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Rose up again, and swift to shore he sped.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The jackdaw shrieked, but lo! a mile of ice<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The demon found had frozen o’er his head.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He swore an oath, and gathered all his force,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And broke the ice, to see the sun, of course,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Held firmly in the radiant angel’s hand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who sailed away toward the heavenly land.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He gave pursuit. Wrath lent speed to his chase;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">All heaven leaned down to watch the exciting race.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On, on they came, and still the Evil One<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Gained on the angel burdened with the sun.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">With bated breath and faces white as ghosts,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Over the walls leaned heaven’s affrighted hosts.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Up, up, still up, the angel almost spent,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Threw one foot forward o’er the battlement.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The demon seized the other with a shout;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So fierce his clutch he pulled the bottom out,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As the good angel, fainting, laid the sun<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Down by the throne of God, who cried: “Well done!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thy great misfortune shall be made divine:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0"><i>Man</i> will I create with a foot like thine!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="PEEK-A-BOO" id="PEEK-A-BOO"></a>PEEK-A-BOO.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_t.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="T" /></span>HE cunningest thing that a baby can do<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Is the very first time it plays peek-a-boo;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ih">When it hides its pink little face in its hands,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And crows, and shows that it understands<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">What nurse, and mamma and papa, too,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Mean when they hide and cry, “Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, what a wonderful thing it is,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When they find that baby can play like this;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And everyone listens, and thinks it true<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That baby’s gurgle means “Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo”;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And over and over the changes are rung<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On the marvelous infant who talks so young.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I wonder if any one ever knew<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A baby that never played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">’Tis old as the hills are. I believe<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Cain was taught it by Mother Eve;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For Cain was an innocent baby, too,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I am sure he played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And the whole world full of the children of men,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Have all of them played that game since then.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Kings and princes and beggars, too,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Everyone has played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Thief and robber and ruffian bold,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The crazy tramp and the drunkard old,<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">All have been babies who laughed and knew<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">How to hide, and play peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i064.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="FALLING_OF_THRONES" id="FALLING_OF_THRONES"></a>THE FALLING OF THRONES.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_a.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="A" /></span>BOVE the din of commerce, above the clamor and rattle<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Of labor disputing with riches, of Anarchists’ threats and groans,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Above the hurry and hustle and roar of that bloodless battle,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Where men are fighting for riches, I hear the falling of thrones.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I see no savage host, I hear no martial drumming,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But down in the dust at our feet lie the useless crowns of kings;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the mighty spirit of Progress is steadily coming, coming,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the flag of one republic abroad to the world he flings.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The Universal Republic, where worth not birth is royal;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where the lowliest born may climb on a self-made ladder to fame;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where the highest and proudest born, if he be not true and loyal,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Shall find no masking title to cover and gild his shame.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Not with the bellow of guns and not with sabres whetting,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But with growing minds of men is waged this swordless fray;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While over the dim horizon the sun of royalty, setting,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lights, with a dying splendor, the humblest toiler’s way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i066.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="HER_LAST_LETTER" id="HER_LAST_LETTER"></a>HER LAST LETTER.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_s.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="S" /></span>ITTING alone by the window,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Watching the moonlit street,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Bending my head to listen<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">To the well-known sound of your feet,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">I have been wondering, darling,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">How I can bear the pain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When I watch, with sighs and tear-wet eyes,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And wait for your coming in vain.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">For I know that a day approaches<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When your heart will tire of me;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When by door and gate I may watch and wait<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For a form I shall not see.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When the love that is now my heaven,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The kisses that make my life,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You will bestow on another,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And that other will be&mdash;your wife.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">You will grow weary of sinning<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">(Though you do not call it so),<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You will long for a love that is purer<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Than the love that we two know.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">God knows I have loved you dearly,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With a passion strong as true;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But you will grow tired and leave me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Though I gave up all for you.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I was as pure as the morning<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When I first looked on your face;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I knew I never could reach you<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In your high, exalted place.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But I looked and loved and worshiped<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As a flower might worship a star,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And your eyes shone down upon me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And you seemed so far&mdash;so far.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And then? Well, then, you loved me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Loved me with all your heart;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But we could not stand at the altar,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We were so far apart.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If a star should wed with a flower<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The star must drop from the sky,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or the flower in trying to reach it<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Would droop on its stalk and die.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But you said that you loved me, darling,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And swore by the heavens above<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That the Lord and all of His angels<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Would sanction and bless our love.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I? I was weak, not wicked.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">My love was as pure as true,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And sin itself seemed a virtue<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">If only shared by you.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">We have been happy together,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Though under the cloud of sin,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But I know that the day approaches<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When my chastening must begin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You have been faithful and tender,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But you will not always be,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I think I had better leave you<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">While your thoughts are kind of me.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I know my beauty is fading&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Sin furrows the fairest brow&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I know that your heart will weary<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of the face you smile on now.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You will take a bride to your bosom<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">After you turn from me;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You will sit with your wife in the moonlight,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And hold her babe on your knee.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, God! I never could bear it;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">It would madden my brain, I know;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And so while you love me dearly<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I think I had better go.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">It is sweeter to feel, my darling&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To know as I fall asleep&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That some one will mourn me and miss me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That some one is left to weep,<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Than to die as I should in the future,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To drop in the street some day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Unknown, unwept and forgotten<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">After you cast me away.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Perhaps the blood of the Saviour<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Can wash my garments clean;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Perchance I may drink of the waters<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That flow through pastures green.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Perchance we may meet in heaven,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And walk in the streets above,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With nothing to grieve us or part us<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Since our sinning was all through love.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">God says, “Love one another,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And down to the depths of hell<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Will he send the soul of a woman<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Because she loved&mdash;and fell?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="iasst">* * * * * *<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And so in the moonlight he found her,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or found her beautiful clay,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Lifeless and pallid as marble,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For the spirit had flown away.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The farewell words she had written<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She held to her cold, white breast,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the buried blade of a dagger<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Told how she had gone to rest.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i070.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="BABYLAND" id="BABYLAND"></a>BABYLAND.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_h.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="H" /></span>AVE you heard of the Valley of Babyland,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The realm where the dear little darlings stay,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Till the kind storks go, as all men know,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And oh, so tenderly bring them away?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The paths are winding and past all finding<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">By all save the storks, who understand<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The gates and the highways and the intricate by-ways<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">That lead to Babyland.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">All over the Valley of Babyland<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Sweet flowers bloom in the soft green moss,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And under the ferns fair, and under the plants there<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lie little heads like spools of floss.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With a soothing number the river of slumber<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Flows o’er a bedway of silver sand;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And angels are keeping watch o’er the sleeping<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Babes of Babyland.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The path to the Valley of Babyland<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Only the kingly, kind storks know;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If they fly over mountains, or wade through fountains,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i2">No man sees them come or go.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But an angel maybe, who guards some baby,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or a fairy, perhaps, with her magic wand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Brings them straightway to the wonderful gateway<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">That leads to Babyland.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And there, in the Valley of Babyland,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Under the mosses and leaves and ferns,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Like an unfledged starling they find the darling<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For whom the heart of a mother yearns;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And they lift him lightly and snug him tightly<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In feathers soft as a lady’s hand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And off with a rockaway step they walk away<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Out of Babyland.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">As they go from the Valley of Babyland<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Forth into the world of great unrest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sometimes weeping he wakes from sleeping<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Before he reaches the mother’s breast.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ah, how she blesses him, how she caresses him,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Bonniest bird in the bright home band<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That o’er land and water the kind stork brought her<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">From far-off Babyland.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="FISHING" id="FISHING"></a>FISHING.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_m.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="M" /></span>AYBE this is fun, sitting in the sun,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">With a book and parasol, as my angler wishes,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">While he dips his line in the ocean brine,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Under the impression that his bait will catch the fishes.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ih">’Tis romantic&mdash;yes, but I must confess<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Thoughts of shady rooms at home somehow seem more inviting.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But I dare not move&mdash;“Quiet there, my love!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Says my angler, “for I think a monster fish is biting.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, of course, it’s bliss&mdash;but how hot it is!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the rock I’m sitting on grows harder every minute;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Still my fisher waits, trying various baits,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the basket at his side, I see, has nothing in it.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Oh, it’s just the way to pass a July day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Arcadian and sentimental, dreamy, idle, charming;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But how fierce the sunlight falls! and the way that insect crawls<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Along my neck and down my back is really quite alarming.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“Any luck?” I gently ask of the angler at his task;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“There’s something pulling at my line,” he says; “I’ve almost caught it.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But when, with blistered face, we our homeward steps retrace,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We take the little basket just as empty as we brought it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i074.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="OLD_STAGE_QUEEN" id="OLD_STAGE_QUEEN"></a>THE OLD STAGE QUEEN.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_b.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="B" /></span>ACK in her box by the curtains shaded<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">She sits alone, by the house unseen;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Her eye is dim and her cheek is faded.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">She who once was the people’s queen.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ih">The curtain rolls up, and she sees before her<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A vision of beauty and youth and grace.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ah! no wonder all hearts adore her,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Silver-throated and fair of face.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Out of her box she leans and listens:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">O! is it with pleasure or with despair<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That her thin cheek pales, and her dim eye glistens<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">While that fresh young voice sings the grand old air?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She is back again in her past’s bright splendor,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When life was worth living and love was a truth;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ere Time had told her she must surrender<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her double dower of fame and youth.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">It is she herself who stands there singing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To that sea of faces, that shines and stirs;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the cheers on cheers that go up ringing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And rousing the echoes, are hers, all hers!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Just for one moment the sweet delusion<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Quickens her pulses, and blurs her sight,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And wakes within her that wild confusion<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of joy that is anguish and fierce delight.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then the curtain goes down, and the lights are gleaming<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Brightly o’er circle and box and stall;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She starts like a sleeper who wakes from dreaming:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her youth lies under Time’s funeral pall.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Her day is dead, and her star descended<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Never to rise or to shine again;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her reign is over, her queenship ended&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A new name is sounded and sung by men.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">All the glitter and glow and splendor,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All the glory of that lost day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With the friends that seemed true and the love that seemed tender,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Why, what is it all but a dead bouquet!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She rises to go; has the night turned colder?<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The new queen answers to call and shout;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the old queen looks back over her shoulder<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As, all unnoticed, she passes out.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="PRINCESSS_FINGER-NAIL" id="PRINCESSS_FINGER-NAIL"></a>THE PRINCESS’S FINGER-NAIL.<br /><br />
-<small>A TALE OF NONSENSE LAND.</small></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_a.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="A" /></span>LL through the Castle of High-bred Ease,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Where the chief employment was do-as-you-please,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Spread consternation and wild despair.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The queen was wringing her hands and hair;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The maids of honor were sad and solemn;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The pages looked blank as they stood in column;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The court-jester blubbered, “Boo-hoo, boo-hoo”;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The cook in the kitchen dropped tears in the stew;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And all through the castle went sob and wail,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For the princess had broken her finger-nail:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The beautiful Princess Red-as-a-Rose,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Bride-elect of the Lord High-Nose,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Broken her finger-nail down to the quick&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">No wonder the queen and her court were sick.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Never sorrow so dread before<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Had dared to enter that castle door.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Oh! what would my Lord His-High-Nose say<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When she took off her glove on her wedding-day?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The fairest princess in Nonsense Land,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With a broken finger-nail on her hand!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Twas a terrible, terrible accident,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And they called a meeting of parliament;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And never before that royal Court<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Had come such question of grave import<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As “How could you hurry a nail to grow?”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the skill of the kingdom was called to show.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They sent for Monsieur File-’em-off;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He smoothed down the corners so ragged and rough.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They sent for Madame la Diamond-Dust,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who lived on the fingers of upper-crust;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They sent for Professor de Chamois-Skin,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who took her powder and rubbed it in;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They sent for the pudgy nurse Fat-on-the-bone<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To bathe her finger in eau de Cologne;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And they called the Court surgeon, Monsieur Red-Tape,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To hear what he thought of the new nail’s shape.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Over the kingdom the telegrams flew<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Which told how the finger-nail thrived and grew;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And all through the realm of Nonsense Land<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They offered up prayers for the princess’s hand.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">At length the glad tidings were heard with a shout<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That the princess’s finger-nail had grown out:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Pointed and polished and pink and clean,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Befitting the hand of a some-day queen.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Salutes were fired all over the land<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">By the home-guard battery pop-gun band;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And great was the joy of my Lord High-Nose,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who straightway ordered his wedding clothes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And paid his tailor, Don Wait-for-aye,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who died of amazement the self-same day.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My lord by a jury was judged insane;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For they said, and the truth of the saying was plain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That a lord of such very high pedigree<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Would never be paying his bills, you see,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Unless he was out of his head; and so<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They locked him up without more ado.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the beautiful Princess Red-as-a-Rose<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Pined for her lover, my Lord High-Nose,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Till she entered a convent and took the veil&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And this is the end of my nonsense tale.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i079.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="BABY_IN_THE_HOUSE" id="BABY_IN_THE_HOUSE"></a>A BABY IN THE HOUSE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_i.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="I" /></span> KNEW that a baby was hid in the house;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Though I saw no cradle and heard no cry,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">But the husband went tiptoeing ’round like a mouse,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And the good wife was humming a soft lullaby;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And there was a look on the face of that mother<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That I knew could mean only <i>one</i> thing, and no other.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“The <i>mother</i>” I said to myself; for I knew<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That the woman before me was certainly that,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For there lay in the corner a tiny cloth shoe,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And I saw on the stand such a wee little hat;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the beard of the husband said plain as could be,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Two fat, chubby hands have been tugging at me.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And he took from his pocket a gay picture-book,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And a dog that would bark if you pulled on a string;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the wife laid them up with such a pleased look;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And I said to myself, “There is no other thing<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But a babe that could bring about all this, and so<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That one is in hiding here somewhere, I know.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I stayed but a moment, and saw nothing more,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And heard not a sound, yet I knew I was right;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What else could the shoe mean that lay on the floor,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The book and the toy, and the faces so bright?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And what made the husband as still as a mouse?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I am sure, <i>very</i> sure, there’s a babe in that house.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i081.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="FOOLISH_ELM" id="FOOLISH_ELM"></a>THE FOOLISH ELM.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_t.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="T" /></span>HE bold young Autumn came riding along<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">One day where an elm-tree grew.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">“You are fair,” he said, as she bent down her head,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">“Too fair for your robe’s dull hue.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">You are far too young for a garb so old;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Your beauty needs color and sheen.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Oh, I would clothe you in scarlet and gold<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Befitting the grace of a queen.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“For one little kiss on your lips, sweet elm,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For one little kiss, no more,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I would give you, I swear, a robe more fair<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Than ever a princess wore.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One little kiss on those lips, my pet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And lo! you shall stand, I say,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Queen of the forest, and, better yet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Queen of my heart alway.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She tossed her head, but he took the kiss&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">’Tis the way of lovers bold&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And a gorgeous dress for that sweet caress<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He gave ere the morning was old.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For a week and a day she ruled a queen<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In beauty and splendid attire;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For a week and a day she was loved, I ween,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With the love that is born of desire.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then bold-eyed Autumn went on his way<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In search of a tree more fair;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And mob winds tattered her garments and scattered<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her finery here and there.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Poor and faded and ragged and cold<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She rocked in her wild distress,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And longed for the dull green gown she had sold<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For her fickle lover’s caress.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And the days went by and Winter came,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And his tyrannous tempests beat<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On the shivering tree, whose robes of flame<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He had trampled under his feet.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I saw her reach up to the mocking skies<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her poor arms, bare and thin;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ah, well-a-day! it is ever the way<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With a woman who trades with sin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="ROBINS_MISTAKE" id="ROBINS_MISTAKE"></a>ROBIN’S MISTAKE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_w.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="W" /></span>HAT do you think Red Robin<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Found by a mow of hay?<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Why, a flask brimful of liquor,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">That the mowers brought that day<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">To slake their thirst in the hayfield.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And Robin he shook his head:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Now, I wonder what they call it,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And how it tastes?” he said.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">“I have seen the mowers drink it&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Why isn’t it good for me?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So I’ll just draw out the stopper<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And get at the stuff, and see!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But alas! for the curious Robin,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">One draught, and he burned his throat<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From his bill to his poor crop’s lining,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And he could not utter a note.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And his head grew light and dizzy,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And he staggered left and right,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Tipped over the flask of brandy,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And spilled it, every mite.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But after awhile he sobered,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And quietly flew away,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And he never has tasted liquor,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Or touched it, since that day.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But I heard him say to his kindred,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the course of a friendly chat,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“These men think they are above us,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Yet they drink such stuff as that!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Oh, the poor degraded creatures!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I am glad I am only a bird!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then he flew up over the meadow,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And that was all I heard.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i085.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="NEW_YEAR_RESOLVE" id="NEW_YEAR_RESOLVE"></a>NEW YEAR RESOLVE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_a.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="A" /></span>S the dead year is clasped by a dead December,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">So let your dead sins with your dead days lie.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">A new life is yours and a new hope. Remember<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">We build our own ladders to climb to the sky.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ih">Stand out in the sunlight of promise, forgetting<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Whatever the past held of sorrow and wrong.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We waste half our strength in a useless regretting;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We sit by old tombs in the dark too long.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Have you missed in your aim? Well, the mark is still shining.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Did you faint in the race? Well, take breath for the next.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Did the clouds drive you back? But see yonder their lining.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Were you tempted and fell? Let it serve for a text.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">As each year hurries by, let it join that procession<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of skeleton shapes that march down to the past<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While you take your place in the line of progression,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With your eyes to the heavens, your face to the blast.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I tell you the future can hold no terrors<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For any sad soul while the stars revolve,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If he will stand firm on the grave of his errors,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And instead of regretting&mdash;resolve, resolve!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">It is never too late to begin rebuilding,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Though all into ruins your life seems hurled;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For see! how the light of the New Year is gilding<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The wan, worn face of the bruised old world.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i087.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="WHAT_WE_WANT" id="WHAT_WE_WANT"></a>WHAT WE WANT.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_a.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="A" /></span>LL hail the dawn of a new day breaking,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">When a strong-armed nation shall take away<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The weary burdens from backs that are aching<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">With maximum labor and minimum pay;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When no man is honored who hoards his millions;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When no man feasts on another’s toil.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And God’s poor suffering, striving billions<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Shall share his riches of sun and soil.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There is gold for all in the earth’s broad bosom,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">There is food for all in the land’s great store;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Enough is provided if rightly divided;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Let each man take what he needs&mdash;no more.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Shame on the miser with unused riches,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who robs the toiler to swell his hoard,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who beats down the wage of the digger of ditches,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And steals the bread from the poor man’s board.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Shame on the owner of mines whose cruel<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And selfish measures have brought him wealth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While the ragged wretches who dig his fuel<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Are robbed of comfort and hope and health.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Shame on the ruler who rides in his carriage<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Bought with the labor of half-paid men&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Men who are shut out of home and marriage<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And are herded like sheep in a hovel pen.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Let the clarion voice of the nation wake him<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To broader vision and fairer play;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or let the hand of a just law shake him<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Till his ill-gained dollars shall roll away.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Let no man dwell under a mountain of plunder,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Let no man suffer with want and cold;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We want right living, not mere alms-giving;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We want just dividing of labor and gold.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i089.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="TWO_GLASSES" id="TWO_GLASSES"></a>THE TWO GLASSES.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_t.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="T" /></span>HERE sat two glasses, filled to the brim,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">On a rich man’s table, rim to rim.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">One was ruddy and red as blood,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And one was as clear as the crystal flood.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ih">Said the glass of wine to his paler brother:<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">“Let us tell tales of the past to each other.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I can tell of banquet, and revel, and mirth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where I was king, for I ruled in might;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the proudest and grandest souls on earth<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fell under my touch, as though struck with blight.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From the heads of kings I have torn the crown;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From the heights of fame I have hurled men down;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I have blasted many an honored name;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I have taken virtue and given shame;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I have tempted the youth, with a sip, a taste,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That has made his future a barren waste.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Far greater than any king am I,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Or than any army under the sky.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I have made the arm of the driver fail,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And sent the train from its iron rail.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I have made good ships go down at sea,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the shrieks of the lost were sweet to me.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Fame, strength, wealth, genius, before me fall,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And my might and power are over all.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ho! ho! pale brother,” laughed the wine,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Can you boast of deeds as great as mine?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Said the glass of water: “I cannot boast<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of a king dethroned or a murdered host;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But I can tell of hearts that were sad,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">By my crystal drops made light and glad.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of thirsts I have quenched, and brows I have laved;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of hands I have cooled and souls I have saved.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I have leaped through the valley and dashed down the mountain;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Slept in the sunshine and dripped from the fountain.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I have burst my cloud-fetters and dropped from the sky,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And everywhere gladdened the landscape and eye.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I have eased the hot forehead of fever and pain;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I have made the parched meadows grow fertile with grain;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I can tell of the powerful wheel o’ the mill,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That ground out the flour and turned at my will;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I can tell of manhood, debased by you,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That I have uplifted and crowned anew.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I cheer, I help, I strengthen and aid,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I gladden the heart of man and maid;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I set the chained wine-captive free,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And all are better for knowing me.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">These are the tales they told each other,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The glass of wine, and its paler brother,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As they sat together, filled to the brim,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On the rich man’s table, rim to rim.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="PIN" id="PIN"></a>A PIN.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_o.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="O" /></span>H, I know a certain woman who is reckoned with the good,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">But she fills me with more terror than a raging lion could.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The little chills run up and down my spine whene’er we meet,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Though she seems a gentle creature and she’s very trim and neat.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And she has a thousand virtues and not one acknowledged sin,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But she is the sort of person you could liken to a pin.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And she pricks you, and she sticks you, in a way that can’t be said&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When you seek for what has hurt you, why, you cannot find the head.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But she fills you with discomfort and exasperating pain&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If anybody asks you why, you really can’t explain.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A pin is such a tiny thing&mdash;of that there is no doubt&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Yet when it’s sticking in your flesh, you’re wretched till it’s out!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She is wonderfully observing. When she meets a pretty girl<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She is always sure to tell her if her “bang” is out of curl.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And she is so sympathetic; to her friend who’s much admired,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She is often heard remarking: “Dear, you look so <i>worn</i> and tired!”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And she is a careful critic; for on yesterday she eyed<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The new dress I was airing with a woman’s natural pride,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And she said: “Oh, how becoming!” and then softly added, “It<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Is really a misfortune that the basque is such a fit.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then she said: “If you had heard me yestereve, I’m sure, my friend,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You would say I am a champion who knows how to defend.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And she left me with a feeling&mdash;most unpleasant, I aver&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That the whole world would despise me if it hadn’t been for her.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Whenever I encounter her, in such a nameless way<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She gives me the impression I am at my worst that day;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the hat that was imported (and that cost me half a sonnet)<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With just one glance from her round eyes becomes a Bowery bonnet.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She is always bright and smiling, sharp and shining for a thrust;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Use does not seem to blunt her point, nor does she gather rust.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Oh! I wish some hapless specimen of mankind would begin<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To tidy up the world for me, by picking up this pin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">{95}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i094.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="BREAKING_THE_DAY_IN_TWO" id="BREAKING_THE_DAY_IN_TWO"></a>BREAKING THE DAY IN TWO.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_w.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="W" /></span>HEN from dawn till noon seems one long day,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And from noon till night another,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Oh, then should a little boy come from play,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And creep into the arms of his mother.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Snugly creep and fall asleep,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">O come, my baby, do;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Creep into my lap, and with a nap,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">We’ll break the day in two.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When the shadows slant for afternoon,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">When the midday meal is over;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When the winds have sung themselves into a swoon,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">And the bees drone in the clover.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Then hie to me, hie, for a lullaby&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Come, my baby, do;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Creep into my lap, and with a nap<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">We’ll break the day in two.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">{96}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">We’ll break it in two with a crooning song,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With a soft and soothing number;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For the day has no right to be so long<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And keep my baby from slumber.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then rock-a-by, rock, may white dreams flock<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Like angels over you;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Baby’s gone, and the deed is done<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We’ve broken the day in two.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">{97}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i096.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="RAPE_OF_THE_MIST" id="RAPE_OF_THE_MIST"></a>THE RAPE OF THE MIST.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_h.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="H" /></span>IGH o’er the clouds a Sunbeam shone,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And far down under him,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">With a subtle grace that was all her own,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The Mist gleamed, fair and dim.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He looked at her with his burning eyes<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And longed to fall at her feet;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of all sweet things there under the skies,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He thought her the thing most sweet.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He had wooed oft, as a sunbeam may,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Wave, and blossom, and flower;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But never before had he felt the sway<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of a great love’s mighty power.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Tall cloud-mountains and vast space-seas,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Wind, and tempest, and fire&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What are obstacles such as these<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To a heart that is filled with desire?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Boldly he trod over cloud and star,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Boldly he swam through space,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She caught the glow of his eyes afar<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And veiled her delicate face.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">{98}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">He was so strong and he was so bright,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And his breath was a breath of flame;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The Mist grew pale with a vague, strange fright,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As fond, yet fierce, he came.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Close to his heart she was clasped and kissed;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She swooned in love’s alarms,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And dead lay the beautiful pale-faced Mist<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the Sunbeam’s passionate arms.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">{99}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i098.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="MANIAC" id="MANIAC"></a>THE MANIAC.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_i.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="I" /></span> SAW them sitting in the shade;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The long green vines hung over,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">But could not hide the gold-haired maid<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And Earl, my dark-eyed lover.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">His arm was clasped so close, so close,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her eyes were softly lifted,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While his eyes drank the cheek of rose<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And breasts like snowflakes drifted.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">A strange noise sounded in my brain;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I was a guest unbidden.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I stole away, but came again<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With two knives snugly hidden.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I stood behind them. Close they kissed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">While eye to eye was speaking;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I aimed my steels, and neither missed<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The heart I sent it seeking.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There were two death-shrieks mingled so<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">It seemed like one voice crying.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I laughed&mdash;it was such bliss, you know,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To hear and see them dying.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">{100}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I laughed and shouted while I stood<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Above the lovers, gazing<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Upon the trickling rills of blood<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And frightened eyes fast glazing.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">It was such joy to see the rose<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Fade from her cheek forever;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To know the lips he kissed so close<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Could answer never, never.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To see his arm grow stark and cold,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And know it could not hold her;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">To know that while the world grew old<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">His eyes could not behold her.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">A crowd of people thronged about,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Brought thither by my laughter;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I gave one last triumphant shout&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Then darkness followed after.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That was a thousand years ago;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Each hour I live it over,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For there, just out of reach, you know,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2"><i>She</i> lies, with Earl, my lover.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">They lie there, staring, staring so<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With great, glazed eyes to taunt me.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Will no one bury them down low,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where they shall cease to haunt me?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He kissed her lips, not mine; the flowers<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And vines hung all about them.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Sometimes I sit and laugh for hours<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To think just how I found them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">{101}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And then I sometimes stand and shriek<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In agony of terror;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I see the red warm in her cheek,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Then laugh loud at my error.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My cheek was all too pale, he thought;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">He deemed hers far the brightest.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ha! but my dagger touched a spot<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That made <i>her</i> face the whitest!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But oh, the days seem very long,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Without my Earl, my lover;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And something in my head seems wrong<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The more I think it over.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ah! look&mdash;she is not dead&mdash;look there!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She’s standing close beside me!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her eyes are open&mdash;how they stare!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Oh, hide me! hide me! hide me!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">{102}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i101.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="WHAT_IS_FLIRTATION" id="WHAT_IS_FLIRTATION"></a>WHAT IS FLIRTATION?</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_w.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="W" /></span>HAT is flirtation? Really,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">How can I tell you that?<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">But when she smiles I see its wiles,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And when he lifts his hat.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">’Tis walking in the moonlight,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">’Tis buttoning on a glove,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Tis lips that speak of plays next week,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">While eyes are talking love.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">’Tis meeting in the ball-room,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">’Tis whirling in the dance;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Tis something hid beneath the lid,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">More than a simple glance.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">’Tis lingering in the hallway,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">’Tis sitting on the stair,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Tis bearded lips on finger-tips,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">If mamma isn’t there.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">’Tis tucking in the carriage,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">’Tis asking for a call;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Tis long good-nights in tender lights,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And that is&mdash;no, not all!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">’Tis parting when it’s over,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And one goes home to sleep;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Best joys must end, tra la, my friend,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But one goes home to weep!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103">{103}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="HOW_DOES_LOVE_SPEAK" id="HOW_DOES_LOVE_SPEAK"></a>HOW DOES LOVE SPEAK?</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_h.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="H" /></span>OW does Love speak?<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">In the faint flush upon the tell-tale cheek,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And in the pallor that succeeds it; by<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The quivering lid of an averted eye&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The smile that proves the parent of a sigh:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thus doth Love speak.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">How does Love speak?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">By the uneven heart-throbs, and the freak<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Of bounding pulses that stand still and ache,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">While new emotions, like strange barges, make<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Along vein-channels their disturbing course,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Still as the dawn, and with the dawn’s swift force:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thus doth Love speak.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">How does Love speak?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In the avoidance of that which we seek&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The sudden silence and reserve when near;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The eye that glistens with an unshed tear;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The joy that seems the counterpart of fear,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As the alarmèd heart leaps in the breast,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And knows, and names, and greets its godlike guest:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thus doth Love speak.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104">{104}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">How does Love speak?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In the proud spirit suddenly grown meek,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The haughty heart grown humble; in the tender<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And unnamed light that floods the world with splendor;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In the resemblance which the fond eyes trace<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In all fair things to one beloved face;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In the shy touch of hands that thrill and tremble;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In looks and lips that can no more dissemble:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thus doth Love speak.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i2">How does Love speak?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In wild words that uttered seem so weak<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They shrink ashamed to silence; in the fire<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Glance strikes with glance, swift flashing high and higher,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Like lightnings that precede the mighty storm;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In the deep, soulful stillness; in the warm,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Impassioned tide that sweeps thro’ throbbing veins,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Between the shores of keen delights and pains;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In the embrace where madness melts in bliss,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And in the convulsive rapture of a kiss:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Thus doth Love speak.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105">{105}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="AS_YOU_GO_THROUGH_LIFE" id="AS_YOU_GO_THROUGH_LIFE"></a>AS YOU GO THROUGH LIFE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_d.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="D" /></span>ON’t look for the flaws as you go through life;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And even when you find them,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">It is wise and kind to be somewhat blind<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And look for the virtue behind them.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">For the cloudiest night has a hint of light<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Somewhere in its shadows hiding;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">It is better by far to hunt for a star,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Than the spots on the sun abiding.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The current of life runs ever away<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To the bosom of God’s great ocean.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Don’t set your force ’gainst the river’s course<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And think to alter its motion.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Don’t waste a curse on the universe&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Remember it lived before you.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Don’t butt at the storm with your puny form,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But bend and let it go o’er you.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The world will never adjust itself<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To suit your whims to the letter.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Some things must go wrong your whole life long,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the sooner you know it the better.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">It is folly to fight with the Infinite,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And go under at last in the wrestle;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The wiser man shapes into God’s plan<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As water shapes into a vessel.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106">{106}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="MEMORYS_RIVER" id="MEMORYS_RIVER"></a>MEMORY’S RIVER.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_i.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="I" /></span>N Nature’s bright blossoms not always reposes<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">That strange subtle essence more rare than their bloom,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Which lies in the hearts of carnations and roses,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">That unexplained something by men called perfume.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Though modest the flower, yet great is its power<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And pregnant with meaning each pistil and leaf,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If only it hides there, if only abides there,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The fragrance suggestive of love, joy and grief.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Not always the air that a master composes<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Can stir human heart-strings with pleasure or pain.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But strange, subtle chords, like the scent of the roses,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Breathe out of some measures, though simple the strain.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And lo! when you hear them, you love them and fear them,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">You tremble with anguish, you thrill with delight,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107">{107}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For back of them slumber old dreams without number,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And faces long vanished peer out into sight.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Those dear foolish days when the earth seemed all beauty,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Before you had knowledge enough to be sad;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When youth held no higher ideal of duty<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Than just to lilt on through the world and be glad.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">On harmony’s river they seemed to float hither<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With all the sweet fancies that hung round that time&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Life’s burdens and troubles turn into air-bubbles<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And break on the music’s swift current of rhyme.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Fair Folly comes back with her spell while you listen<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And points to the paths where she led you of old.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You gaze on past sunsets, you see dead stars glisten,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">You bathe in life’s glory, you swoon in death’s cold.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">All pains and all pleasures surge up through those measures,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Your heart is wrenched open with earthquakes of sound;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">From ashes and embers rise Junes and Decembers,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Lost islands in fathoms of feeling refound.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108">{108}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Some airs are like outlets of memory’s oceans,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">They rise in the past and flow into the heart;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And down them float shipwrecks of mighty emotions,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All sea-soaked and storm-tossed and drifting apart:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Their fair timbers battered, their lordly sails tattered,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Their skeleton crew of dead days on their decks;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Then a crash of chords blending, a crisis, an ending&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The music is over, and vanished the wrecks.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109">{109}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i108.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="LADY_AND_THE_DAME" id="LADY_AND_THE_DAME"></a>THE LADY AND THE DAME.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_s.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="S" /></span>O thou hast the art, good dame, thou swearest,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">To keep Time’s perishing touch at bay<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">From the roseate splendor of the cheek so tender,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And the silver threads from the gold away;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And the tell-tale years that have hurried by us<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Shall tiptoe back, and, with kind good-will,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They shall take their traces from off our faces,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">If we will trust to thy magic skill.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Thou speakest fairly; but if I listen<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And buy thy secret and prove its truth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Hast thou the potion and magic lotion<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To give me also the <i>heart</i> of youth?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With the cheek of rose and the eye of beauty,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the lustrous locks of life’s lost prime,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Wilt thou bring thronging each hope and longing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That made the glory of that dead Time?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When the sap in the trees sets young buds bursting,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the song of the birds fills the air like spray,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Will rivers of feeling come once more stealing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From the beautiful hills of the far-away?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110">{110}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Wilt thou demolish the tower of reason<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And fling forever down into the dust,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The caution time brought me, the lessons life taught me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And put in their places my old sweet trust?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">If Time’s footprint from my brow is driven,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Canst thou, too, take with thy subtle powers<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The burden of thinking, and let me go drinking<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The careless pleasures of youth’s bright hours?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If silver threads from my tresses vanish,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">If a glow once more in my pale cheek gleams,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Wilt thou slay duty and give back the beauty<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of days untroubled by aught but dreams?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">When the soft, fair arms of the siren Summer<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Encircle the earth in their languorous fold,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Will vast, deep oceans of sweet emotions<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Surge through my veins as they surged of old?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Canst thou bring back from a day long vanished<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The leaping pulse and the boundless aim?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I will pay thee double for all thy trouble,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">If thou wilt restore all these, good dame.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111">{111}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="MARRIED_COQUETTE" id="MARRIED_COQUETTE"></a>A MARRIED COQUETTE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_s.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="S" /></span>IT still, I say, and dispense with heroics!<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">I hurt your wrists? Well, you have hurt me.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">It is time you found out that all men are not stoics,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Nor toys to be used as your mood may be.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih"><i>I will not</i> let go of your hands, nor leave you<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Until I have spoken. No man, you say,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Dared ever so treat you before? I believe you,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For you have dealt only with <i>boys</i> till to-day.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">You women lay stress on your fine perception,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Your intuitions are prated about;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You claim an occult sort of conception<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of matters which men must reason out.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So then, of course, when you asked me kindly<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“To call again soon,” you read my heart.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I cannot believe you were acting blindly;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">You saw my passion for you from the start.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">You are one of those women who charm without trying;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The clay you are made of is magnet ore,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And I am the steel; yet, there’s no denying<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">You led me to loving you more and more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112">{112}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You are fanning a flame that may burn too brightly,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Oft easily kindled, but hard to put out;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I am not a man to be played with lightly,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To come at a gesture and go at a pout.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">A brute you call me, a creature inhuman;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">You say I insult you, and bid me go.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And you? Oh, you are a saintly woman,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With thoughts as pure as the drifted snow.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Pah! you are but one of a thousand beauties<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who think they are living exemplary lives.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They break no commandments, and do all their duties<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As Christian women and spotless wives.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But with drooping of lids, and lifting of faces,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And baring of shoulders, and well-timed sighs,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the devil knows what other subtle graces,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">You are mental wantons, who sin with the eyes.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You lure love to wake, yet bid it keep under,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">You tempt us to fall, but bid reason control;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And then you are full of an outraged wonder<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When we get to wanting you, body and soul.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Why, look at yourself! You were no stranger<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To the fact that my heart was already on fire.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When you asked me to call you knew my danger,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Yet here you are, dressed in the gown I admire;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For half of the evil on earth is invented<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">By vain, pretty women with nothing to do<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113">{113}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But to keep themselves manicured, powdered and scented,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And seek for sensations amusing and new.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But when I play at love at a lady’s commanding,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I always am certain to win one game;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So there&mdash;there&mdash;there! I will leave my branding<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">On the lips that are free now to cry “Shame, shame!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You hate me? Quite likely! It does not surprise me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Brute force? I confess it; <i>but still you were kissed</i>;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And one thing is certain&mdash;you cannot despise me<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For having been played with, controlled, and dismissed.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And the next time you see that a man is attracted<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">By the beauty and graces that are not for him,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Don’t lead him on to be half distracted;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Keep out of deep waters although you can swim.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For when he is caught in the whirlpool of passion,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Where many bold swimmers are seen to drown,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A man will reach out and, in desperate fashion,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Will drag whoever is nearest him down.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Though the strings of his heart may be wrenched and riven<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">By a maiden coquette who has led him along,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She can be pardoned, excused and forgiven,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For innocence blindfolded walks into wrong.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114">{114}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But she who has willingly taken the fetter<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That Cupid forges at Hymen’s command&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Well, she is the woman who ought to know better;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She needs no mercy at any man’s hand.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">In the game of hearts, though a woman be winner,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The odds are ever against her, you know;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The world is ready to call her a sinner,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And man is ready to make her so.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Shame is likely, and sorrow is certain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the man has the best of it, end as it may.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">So now, my lady, we’ll drop the curtain,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And put out the lights. We are through with our play.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115">{115}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i114.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="PLEA" id="PLEA"></a>A PLEA.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_c.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="C" /></span>OLUMBIA, large-hearted and tender,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Too long for the good of your kin<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">You have shared your home’s comfort and splendor<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">With all who have asked to come in.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The smile of your true eyes has lighted<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The way to your wide-open door;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You have held out full hands and invited<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The beggar to take from your store.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Your overrun proud sister nations,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Whose offspring you help them to keep,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Are sending their poorest relations&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Their unruly, vicious black sheep.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Unwashed and unlettered you take them,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And lo! we are pushed from your knee;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We are governed by laws as <i>they</i> make them,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We are slaves in the land of the free.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Columbia, you know the devotion<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of those who have sprung from your soil.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Shall aliens born over the ocean<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Dispute us the fruits of our toil?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116">{116}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Most noble and gracious of mothers,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Your children rise up and demand<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That you bring us no more foster-brothers<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To breed discontent in the land.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Be prudent before you are zealous&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Not generous only, but just;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Our hearts are grown wrathful and jealous<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Toward those who have outraged your trust.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They jostle and crowd in our places,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">They sneer at the comforts you gave;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We say, shut the door in their faces<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Until they have learned to behave.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">In hearts that are greedy and hateful,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">They harbor ill-will and deceit;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">They ask for more favors, ungrateful<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For those you have poured at their feet.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Rise up in your grandeur, and straightway<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Bar out the bold, clamoring mass;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Let sentinels stand at your gateway,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To see who is worthy to pass.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Give first to your own faithful toilers<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The freedom our birthright should claim,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And take from these ruthless despoilers<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The power which they use to our shame.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Columbia, too long you have dallied<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With foes whom you feed from your store;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">It is time that your wardens were rallied<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And stationed outside the locked door.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117">{117}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="SUMMER_GIRL" id="SUMMER_GIRL"></a>THE SUMMER GIRL.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_s.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="S" /></span>HE’s the jauntiest of creatures, she’s the daintiest of misses,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">With her pretty patent leathers or her alligator ties,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">With her eyes inviting glances and her lips inviting kisses,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">As she wanders by the ocean or strolls under country skies.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ih">She’s a captivating dresser, and her parasols are stunning,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Her fads will take your breath away, her hats are dreams of style;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She is not so very bookish, but with repartee and punning<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She can set the savants laughing; and make even dudelets smile.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She has no attacks of talent, she is not a stage-struck maiden;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She is wholly free from hobbies, and she dreams of no “career;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118">{118}</a></span>”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She is mostly gay and happy, never sad or care-beladen,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Though she sometimes sighs a little if a gentleman is near.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She’s a sturdy little walker and she braves all kinds of weather,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And when the rain or fog or mist drive rival crimps a-wreck,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her fluffy hair goes curling like a kinked-up ostrich feather<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Around her ears and forehead and the white nape of her neck.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She is like a fish in water; she can handle reins and racket;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From head to toe and finger-tips she’s thoroughly alive;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">When she goes promenading in a most distracting jacket,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The rustle round her feet suggests how laundresses may thrive.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She can dare the wind and sunshine in the most bravado manner,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And after hours of sailing she has merely cheeks of rose;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Old Sol himself seems smitten and at most will only tan her,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Though to everybody else he gives a danger-signal nose.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119">{119}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She’s a trifle sentimental, and she’s fond of admiration,<br /></span>
-<span class="i1">And she sometimes flirts a little in the season’s giddy whirl;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But win her if you can, sir, she may prove your life’s salvation,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For an angel masquerading oft is she, the summer girl.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120">{120}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i119.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="BEAUTIFUL_BLUE_DANUBE" id="BEAUTIFUL_BLUE_DANUBE"></a>“THE BEAUTIFUL BLUE DANUBE.”<br /><br />
-<small>[With “Blue Danube Waltz” as musical accompaniment.]</small></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_t.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="T" /></span>HEY drift down the hall together,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">He smiles in her lifted eyes;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Like waves of that mighty river,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The strains of the “Danube” rise.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">They float on its rhythmic measure,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Like leaves on a summer stream;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And here, in this scene of pleasure,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I bury my sweet, dead dream.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Through the cloud of her dusky tresses,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Like a star shines out her face;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the form his strong arm presses,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Is sylph-like in its grace.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As a leaf on the bounding river<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Is lost on the seething sea,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I know that forever and ever<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">My dream is lost to me.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And still the viols are playing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That grand old wordless rhyme;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And still those two are swaying<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In perfect tune and time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121">{121}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">If the great bassoons that mutter,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">If the clarionets that blow,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Were given a voice to utter<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The secret things they know,<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Would the lists of the slain who slumber<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">On the Danube’s battle-plains<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The unknown hosts outnumber<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who die, ’neath the “Danube’s” strains?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Those fall where cannons rattle,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">’Mid the rain of shot and shell;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But these, in a fiercer battle,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Find death in the music’s swell.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">With the river’s roar of passion<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Is blended the dying groan;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But here, in the halls of fashion,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Hearts break and make no moan.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And the music, swelling and sweeping,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Like the river, knows it all;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But none are counting or keeping<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The lists of those who fall.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122">{122}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i121.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="BIRTH_OF_THE_OPAL" id="BIRTH_OF_THE_OPAL"></a>THE BIRTH OF THE OPAL.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_t.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="T" /></span>HE Sunbeam loved the Moonbeam,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And followed her low and high;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">But the Moonbeam fled and hid her head&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">She was so shy, so shy.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ih">The Sunbeam wooed with passion,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Ah! he was a lover bold;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And his heart was afire with mad desire<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For the Moonbeam, pale and cold.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She fled like a dream before him,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her hair was a shining sheen;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And, oh, that Fate would annihilate<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The space that lay between!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Just as the Day lay panting<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the arms of the Twilight dim,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The Sunbeam caught the one he sought<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And drew her close to him.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But out of his warm arms startled,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And stirred by love’s first shock,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She sprang afraid, like a trembling maid,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And hid in the niche of a rock.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123">{123}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And the Sunbeam followed and found her,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And led her to love’s own feast,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And they were wed on that rocky bed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the dying Day was their priest.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And, lo! the beautiful Opal,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That rare and wondrous gem,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where the Moon and Sun blend into one,<br /></span>
-<span class="i1">Is the child that was born to them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124">{124}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i123.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="SOUNDS_FROM_THE_BASEBALL_FIELD" id="SOUNDS_FROM_THE_BASEBALL_FIELD"></a>SOUNDS FROM THE BASEBALL FIELD.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_b.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="B" /></span>ATTER in the home place,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">That was nobly done;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Try and get the first base&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Run! <span class="smcap">Run</span>! RUN!<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Ah, there, short stop, will you miss?<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Hear the people cheer and hiss,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Hear them yell and shout.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Twinkling legs and flying feet&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">(Oh, I wonder who will beat!)<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Faster, faster, out!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Umpire, umpire, go along;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That was wrong, sir, that was wrong.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Pitcher pitches, four balls,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Take your base, my man,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Toward the second now he crawls&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Steal it if you can.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Oh, the ball has gone so high,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Can they catch it on the fly?<br /></span>
-<span class="i1">Ah, there is no doubt,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He will get his third, I vow&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Pshaw! the ball has got there now,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Two men out!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Umpire, umpire, that was wrong;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Go along, sir, go along.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125">{125}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">One man on the first base,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Not a single run.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Boys are warming to the race&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Now look out for fun.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Pitcher’s arm maybe is tired;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Batter sudden seems inspired,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Grounds the ball to win.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Run there, run there, run your best,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I am screaming with the rest:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Two men in!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Umpire, umpire, go away;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Dead wrong, dead wrong, sir, I say.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">What’s the matter now, pray?<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Taking breath, that’s all;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the restless people say<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Play ball, play ball.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">One ball, two strikes, two balls&mdash;“Foul”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Umpire calls, and people howl:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“What is he about?”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Run, run, run, run. Run, <span class="smcap">Run</span>, RUN!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Half the inning now is done,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">“Three men out!”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Umpire, umpire, go along;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You are always, always wrong.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126">{126}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="WALTZ-QUADRILLE" id="WALTZ-QUADRILLE"></a>A WALTZ-QUADRILLE.<br /><br />
-<small>[With Musical Accompaniment.]</small></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_t.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="T" /></span>HE band was playing a waltz-quadrille;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">I felt as light as a wind-blown feather,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">As we floated away at the caller’s will,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Through the intricate, mazy dance together.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Like mimic armies our lines were meeting,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Slowly advancing, and then retreating<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">All decked in their bright array;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">And back and forth to the music’s rhyme<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">We moved together, and all the time<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">I knew you were going away.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The fold of your strong arm sent a thrill<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From heart to brain as we gently glided,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Like leaves, on the wave of that waltz-quadrille,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Parted, met, and again divided&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">You drifting one way, and I another;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Then suddenly turning and facing each other;<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Then off in the blithe chassée;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Then airily back to our places swaying,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">While every beat of the music seemed saying<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">That you were going away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127">{127}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I said to my heart: “Let us take our fill<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of mirth, and music, and love and laughter;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For it all must end with this waltz-quadrille,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And life will be never the same life after.<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Oh, that the caller might go on calling,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Oh, that the music might go on falling<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">Like a shower of silver spray,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">While we whirled on to the vast Forever,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Where no heart breaks, and no ties sever,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">And no one goes away.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">A clamor, a crash, and the band was still&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">’Twas the end of the dream, and the end of the measure;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The last low notes of that waltz-quadrille<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Seemed like a dirge o’er the death of Pleasure.<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">You said good-night, and the spell was over&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">Too warm for a friend, and too cold for a lover&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">There was nothing else to say;<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">But the lights looked dim, and the dancers weary,<br /></span>
-<span class="i4">And the music was sad and, the hall was dreary,<br /></span>
-<span class="i6">After you went away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128">{128}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="ANSWERED" id="ANSWERED"></a>ANSWERED.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_g.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="G" /></span>OOD-BYE&mdash;yes, I am going.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Sudden? Well, you are right;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">But a startling truth came home to me<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">With sudden force last night.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">What is it? Shall I tell you&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Nay, that is why I go;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I am running away from the battle-field,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Turning my back on the foe.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Riddles? You think me cruel!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Have you not been most kind?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Why, when you question me like that<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">What answer can I find?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You fear you failed to amuse me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Your husband’s friend and guest,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Whom he bade you entertain and please?<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Well, you have done your best.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Then why am I going? Listen:<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A friend of mine abroad,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Whose theories I have been acting upon,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Has proven himself a fraud.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129">{129}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You have heard me quote from Plato<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A thousand times, no doubt;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Well, I have discovered he did not know<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">What he was talking about.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">You think I am speaking strangely?<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">You cannot understand?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Well, let me look down into your eyes,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And let me hold your hand.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I am running away from danger&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I am flying before I fall;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I am going because with heart and soul<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I love you&mdash;that is all.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There, now, you are white with anger;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I knew it would be so.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You should not question a man too close<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When he tells you he must go.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130">{130}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i129.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="SIGN-BOARD" id="SIGN-BOARD"></a>THE SIGN-BOARD.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_i.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="I" /></span> WILL paint you a sign, rumseller,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And hang it above your door;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">A truer and better signboard<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Than ever you had before.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">I will paint with the skill of a master,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And many shall pause to see<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">This wonderful piece of painting,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">So like the reality.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I will paint yourself, rumseller,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As you wait for that fair young boy,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Just in the morning of manhood,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A mother’s pride and joy.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He has no thought of stopping,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But you greet him with a smile,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And you seem so blithe and friendly,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That he pauses to chat awhile.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I will paint you again, rumseller,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I will paint you as you stand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With a foaming glass of liquor<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Extended in your hand.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131">{131}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He wavers, but you urge him&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Drink, pledge me just this one!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And he takes the glass and drains it,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the hellish work is done.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">And next I will paint a drunkard&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Only a year has flown,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But into that loathsome creature<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The fair young boy has grown.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The work was sure and rapid.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I will paint him as he lies.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In a torpid, drunken slumber,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Under the wintry skies.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I will paint the form of the mother<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As she kneels at her darling’s side,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her beautiful boy that was dearer<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Than all the world beside.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I will paint the shape of a coffin,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Labeled with one word&mdash;“lost,”<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I will paint all this, rumseller,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And will paint it free of cost.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The sin and the shame and the sorrow,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The crime and the want and the woe<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That are born there in your workshop,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">No hand can paint, you know.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But I’ll paint you a sign, rumseller,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And many shall pause to view<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">This wonderful swinging signboard,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">So terribly, fearfully true.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132">{132}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="ABOUT_MAY" id="ABOUT_MAY"></a>ABOUT MAY.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_o.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="O" /></span>NE night Nurse Sleep held out her hand<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">To tired little May.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">“Come, go with me to Wonderland,”<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">She said, “I know the way.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Just rock-a-by&mdash;hum&mdash;m&mdash;m,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And lo! we come<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">To the place where the dream-girls play.”<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But naughty May, she wriggled away<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">From Sleep’s soft arms, and said:<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“I must stay awake till I eat my cake,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And then I will go to bed;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With a by-lo, away I will go.”<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But the good nurse shook her head.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She shook her head and away she sped,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">While May sat munching her crumb.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But after the cake there came an ache,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Though May cried: “Come, Sleep, come,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And it’s oh! my! let us by-lo-by”&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All save the echoes were dumb.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She ran after Sleep toward Wonderland,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Ran till the morning light;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And just as she caught her and grasped her hand,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A nightmare gave her a fright.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And it’s by-lo, I hope she’ll know<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Better another night.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133">{133}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="GIDDY_GIRL" id="GIDDY_GIRL"></a>THE GIDDY GIRL.<br /><br />
-[This recitation is intended to be given with an accompaniment of waltz
-music, introducing dance-steps at the refrain: “With one, two, three,”
-etc.]</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_a.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="A" /></span> GIDDY young maiden with nimble feet,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Heigh-ho! alack and alas!<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Declared she would far rather dance than eat,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And the truth of it came to pass.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">For she danced all day and she danced all night;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">She danced till the green earth faded white;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">She danced ten partners out of breath;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She danced the eleventh one quite to death;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And still she redowaed up and down&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The giddiest girl in town.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With one, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three&mdash;kick;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Chassée back, chassée back, whirl around quick.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">The name of this damsel ended with E&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Heigh-ho! alack and a-day!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And she was as fair as a maiden need be,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Till she danced her beauty away.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134">{134}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She danced her big toes out of joint;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She danced her other toes all to a point;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She danced out slipper and boot and shoe;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She danced till the bones of her feet came through.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And still she redowaed, waltzed and whirled&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The giddiest girl in the world.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With one, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three&mdash;kick;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Chassée back, chassée back, whirl around quick.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Now the end of my story is sad to relate&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Heigh-ho! and away we go!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For this beautiful maiden’s final fate<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Is shrouded in gloom and woe.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She danced herself into a patent top;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She whirled and whirled till she could not stop;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She danced and bounded and sprang so far,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That she stuck at last on a pointed star;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And there she must dance till the Judgment Day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And after it, too, for she danced away<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Her soul, you see, so she has no place anywhere out of space,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">With her one, two, three; one, two, three; one, two, three&mdash;kick;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Chassée back, chassée back, whirl about quick.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_135" id="page_135">{135}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="DELL_AND_I" id="DELL_AND_I"></a>DELL AND I.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_i.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="I" /></span>N a mansion grand, just over the way,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Lives bonny, beautiful Dell;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">You may have heard of this lady gay,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">For she is a famous belle.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">I live in a low cot opposite,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">You never have heard of me;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For when the lady moon shines bright,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Who would a pale star see?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But ah, well, ah, well! I am happier far than Dell,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As strange as that may be.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Dell has robes of the richest kind&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Pinks and purples and blues.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And she worries her maid and frets her mind<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To know which one to choose.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Which shall it be now, silk or lace?<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In which will I be most fair?<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She stands by the mirror with anxious face,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And her maid looks on in despair.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ah, well, ah, well! I am not worried, you see, like Dell,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For I have but <i>one</i> to wear.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_136" id="page_136">{136}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Dell has lovers of every grade,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of every age and style;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Suitors flutter about the maid,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And bask in her word and smile.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She keeps them all, with a coquette’s art,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As suits her mood or mirth,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And vainly wonders if in <i>one</i> heart<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of all true love has birth.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Ah, well, ah, well! I never question myself like Dell,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For I <i>know</i> a true heart’s worth.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Pleasure to Dell seems stale and old,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Often she sits and sighs;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Life to me is a tale untold,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Each day is a glad surprise.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Dell will marry, of course, some day<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">After her belleship is run;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She will cavil the matter in worldly way<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And wed Dame Fortune’s son.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But, ah, well, sweet to tell, I shall not dally and choose like Dell,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">For I love and am loved by&mdash;<i>one</i>.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_137" id="page_137">{137}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="VANITY_FAIR" id="VANITY_FAIR"></a>VANITY FAIR.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_i.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="I" /></span>N Vanity Fair, as we bow and smile,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">As we talk of the opera after the weather,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">As we chat of fashion and fad and style,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">We know we are playing a part together.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">You know that the mirth she wears, she borrows;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She knows you laugh but to hide your sorrows;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We know that under the silks and laces,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And back of beautiful, beaming faces,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Lie secret trouble and grim despair,<br /></span>
-<span class="i10">In Vanity Fair.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">In Vanity Fair, on dress parade,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Our colors look bright and our swords are gleaming;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But many a uniform’s worn and frayed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And most of the weapons, despite their seeming,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Are dull and blunted and badly battered,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And close inspection will show how tattered<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And stained are the banners that float above us.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Our comrades hate, while they swear to love us;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And robed like Pleasure walks gaunt-eyed Care,<br /></span>
-<span class="i10">In Vanity Fair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_138" id="page_138">{138}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">In Vanity Fair, as we strive for place,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">As we rush and jostle and crowd and hurry,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We know the goal is not worth the race&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We know the prize is not worth the worry;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That all our gain means loss for another;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That in fighting for self we wound each other;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That the crown of success weighs hard and presses<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The brow of the victor with thorns&mdash;not caresses;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That honors are empty and worthless to wear,<br /></span>
-<span class="i10">In Vanity Fair.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">But in Vanity Fair, as we pass along,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We meet strong hearts that are worth the knowing;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Mong poor paste jewels that deck the throng,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We see a solitaire sometimes glowing.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We find grand souls under robes of fashion,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">’Neath light demeanors hide strength and passion;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And fair fine honor and Godlike resistance,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">In halls of pleasure may have existence;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And we find pure altars and shrines of prayer,<br /></span>
-<span class="i10">In Vanity Fair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_139" id="page_139">{139}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i138.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="GIRLS_AUTUMN_REVERIE" id="GIRLS_AUTUMN_REVERIE"></a>A GIRL’S AUTUMN REVERIE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_w.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="W" /></span>E plucked a red rose, you and I,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">All in the summer weather.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Sweet its perfume and rare its bloom,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Enjoyed by us together.<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">The rose is dead, the summer fled,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And bleak winds are complaining;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We dwell apart, but in each heart<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We find the thorn remaining.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">We sipped a sweet wine, you and I,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All in the summer weather.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The beaded draught we lightly quaffed,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And filled the glass together.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Together watched its rosy glow,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And saw its bubbles glitter;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Apart, alone, we only know<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The lees are very bitter.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">We walked in sunshine, you and I,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All in the summer weather.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The very night seemed noonday bright<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">When we two were together.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_140" id="page_140">{140}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">I wonder why with our good-by<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">O’er hill and vale and meadow<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">There fell such shade, our paths seemed laid<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Forevermore in shadow.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">We dreamed a sweet dream, you and I,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">All in the summer weather,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Where rose and wine and warm sunshine<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Were mingled in together.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We dreamed that June was with us yet,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We woke to find December.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We dreamed that we two could forget,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">We woke but to remember.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_141" id="page_141">{141}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i140.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="GETHSEMANE" id="GETHSEMANE"></a>GETHSEMANE.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_i.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="I" /></span>N golden youth, when seems the earth<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">A summer land of singing mirth,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">When souls are glad and hearts are light,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And not a shadow lurks in sight,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">We do not know it, but there lies,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Somewhere veiled under evening skies,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A garden all must sometime see&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The garden of Gethsemane.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">With joyous steps we go our ways;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Love lends a halo to our days.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Light sorrows sail like clouds afar,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We laugh and say how strong we are!<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">We hurry on, and, hurrying, go<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Close to the borderland of woe<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That waits for you, and waits for me,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Forever waits&mdash;Gethsemane.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Down shadowy lanes, across strange streams,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Bridged over by our broken dreams,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Behind the misty caps of years,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Beyond the great salt fount of tears<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_142" id="page_142">{142}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The garden lies. Strive as you may,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">You cannot miss it in your way.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">All paths that have been or may be,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Pass somewhere through Gethsemane.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">All those who journey, soon or late,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Must pass within the garden’s gate;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Must kneel alone in darkness there,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And battle with some fierce despair.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">God pity those who cannot say<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Not mine but Thine;” who only pray<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">“Let this cup pass,” and cannot see<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The <i>purpose</i> in Gethsemane.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_143" id="page_143">{143}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i142.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<h2><a name="COMING_MAN" id="COMING_MAN"></a>THE COMING MAN.</h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_o.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="O" /></span>H, not for the great departed,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Who formed our country’s laws,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And not for the bravest-hearted<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Who died in freedom’s cause,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And not for some living hero<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">To whom all bend the knee,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">My muse would raise her song of praise&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">But for the man <i>to be</i>.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">For out of the strife which woman<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Is passing through to-day,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A man that is more than human<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Shall yet be born, I say.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A man in whose pure spirit<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">No dross of self will lurk;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">A man who is strong to cope with wrong,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A man who is proud to work.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">A man with hope undaunted,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A man with godlike power,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Shall come when he most is wanted,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Shall come at the needed hour.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_144" id="page_144">{144}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">He shall silence the din and clamor<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of clan disputing with clan,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And toil’s long fight with purse-proud might<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Shall triumph through this man.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I know he is coming, coming,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To help, to guide, to save.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Though I hear no martial drumming,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And see no flags that wave.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the great soul travail of woman,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the bold free thought unfurled,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Are heralds that say he is on the way&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">The coming man of the world.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Mourn not for vanished ages<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">With their great heroic men,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Who dwell in history’s pages<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And live in the poet’s pen.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">For the grandest times are before us,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And the world is yet to see<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">The noblest worth of this old earth<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">In the men that are to be.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_145" id="page_145">{145}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="MANS_REPENTANCE" id="MANS_REPENTANCE"></a>A MAN’S REPENTANCE.<br /><br />
-<small>[Intended for recitation at club dinners.]</small></h2>
-
-<div class="poetry">
-<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ig"><span class="letra"><img src="images/ltr_t.jpg"
-width="80"
-alt="T" /></span>O-night when I came from the club at eleven,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">Under the gaslight I saw a face&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">A woman’s face! and I swear to heaven<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">It looked like the ghastly ghost of&mdash;Grace!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="ih">And Grace? why, Grace was fair; and I tarried,<br /></span>
-<span class="ih">And loved her a season as we men do.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And then&mdash;but pshaw! why, of course, she is married,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Has a husband and doubtless a babe or two.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">She was perfectly calm on the day we parted;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">She spared me a scene, to my great surprise.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She wasn’t the kind to be broken-hearted,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I remember she said, with a spark in her eyes.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I was tempted, I know, by her proud defiance<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">To make good my promises there and then.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">But the world would have called it a mésalliance!<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I dreaded the comments and sneers of men.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">So I left her to grieve for a faithless lover,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And to hide her heart from the cold world’s sight<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_146" id="page_146">{146}</a></span><br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As women do hide them, the wide earth over.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">My God! <i>was</i> it Grace that I saw to-night?<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">I thought of her married, and often, with pity,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">A poor man’s wife in some dull place.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">And now to know she is here in the city,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Under the gaslight, and with <i>that</i> face!<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Yet I knew it at once, in spite of the daubing<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Of paint and powder, and she knew me;<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">She drew a quick breath that was almost sobbing,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">And shrank in the shade so I should not see.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">There was hell in her eyes! She was worn and jaded;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Her soul is at war with the life she has led.<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">As I looked on that face so strangely faded,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I wonder God did not strike me dead.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">While I have been happy and gay and jolly,<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Received by the very best people in town,<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">That girl whom I led in the way to folly<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">Has gone on recklessly down and down.<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i8">&mdash;&mdash;&mdash;<br /></span>
-</div><div class="stanza">
-<span class="i0">Two o’clock, and no sleep has found me.<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">That face I saw in the street-lamp’s light<br /></span>
-<span class="i0">Peers everywhere out from the shadows around me&mdash;<br /></span>
-<span class="i2">I know how a murderer feels to-night!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_147" id="page_147">{147}</a></span><br /></span>
-</div></div>
-</div>
-
-<h2><a name="DICKS_FAMILY" id="DICKS_FAMILY"></a>DICK’S FAMILY.</h2>
-
-<p>When Dick, the little deformed invalid, hobbled from his bed into his
-chair-lounge at the window, where he reclined all day long, he saw a
-rosy-cheeked young woman polishing the windows across the street.</p>
-
-<p>His pale face tinged with a sudden glow, and his painfully brilliant
-eyes shone with an increased lustre.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I <i>declare</i> if my house isn’t occupied!” he cried, and he lifted
-the window and peered across the way with such an excited countenance,
-that the young woman opposite paused in her work to regard him. But
-after a moment’s observation the startled look in her face gave place to
-pity, for she saw that the great shining eyes were those of an
-invalid&mdash;an invalid child, she thought.</p>
-
-<p>“Poor child; poor little fellow,” she said to herself, “and such a
-pretty face, too!”</p>
-
-<p>But Dick was twenty-two years old, with a ma<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_148" id="page_148">{148}</a></span>n’s heart and a man’s
-longings shut up in his deformed body. But since he was compelled to
-pass his days between a bed and a chair, with an occasional hour down on
-the curbing in the sunlight of a warm day, he found his whole enjoyment
-in his imagination. And wonderful flights it took, flights and freaks
-suspected by no one save good old Dr. Griffin, his one confidant.</p>
-
-<p>He had known Dick ever since his advent into his life of misery. Dick’s
-mother had been the beauty of the street more than a score of years ago.
-Old Benjamin Levy, her father, was a hard man, and to escape the barren
-home and dreary life, pretty Josie eloped with a handsome Christian whom
-she had met while promenading on the street. Her father had uttered a
-terrible curse when the knowledge of her flight came to him; and scarce
-two years later the curse had fallen, for pretty Josie came home to die,
-and to leave her invalid baby as the constant reminder of the fulfilment
-of his curse, to her father.</p>
-
-<p>Dr. Griffin had been retained during all these years as Dick’s
-physician; for the one thing in which old Benjamin showed no parsimony
-was in the care of this little deformed grandchild. A little shop where
-he sold second-hand clothing, and a couple of small rooms above it, for
-living purposes constituted his <i>ménage</i>.</p>
-
-<p>Directly opposite was a three-story and basement brick house, which had
-in its day been a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_149" id="page_149">{149}</a></span> semi-fashionable private residence. But as trade
-encroached upon the street, this building had degenerated to an
-apartment house.</p>
-
-<p>While the house stood tenantless, Dick amused himself by imagining that
-it was his own residence.</p>
-
-<p>“It is my house,” he would say, “and I am traveling abroad, and it is
-closed. By and by I shall come home, and there will be a great
-house-warmin’, and lights in every window and flower-pots on the sills,
-and pretty curtains and life and fun; for I am a very rich young man
-with lots of money, and I always have everything very gay around me.”</p>
-
-<p>Dr. Griffin used to encourage the boy in his fancies, thinking they
-relieved the monotony of his dreary life. “Well, I see you are still
-traveling abroad, Dick,” he used to say. “That house of yours is still
-closed. No idea when you will return, have you?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I’m havin’ too good a time to come back yet awhile,” Dick would
-answer. “Haven’t half seen the world yet.”</p>
-
-<p>But one day there were people moving about on the ground floor of the
-house, and Dick heard his grandfather say it was to be made into flats,
-and let to separate families.</p>
-
-<p>The next time Dr. Griffin called, he greeted the boy with&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>“Hello! Dick, welcome home! I see you have returned from abroad.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_150" id="page_150">{150}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>Dick shook his head soberly. “Oh, no!” he replied, “I am not back yet.
-But I got tired of havin’ my house stay empty&mdash;thought I might as well
-let it help pay my expenses (it’s awful expensive travelin’, you know),
-so I’ve got some tenants in the house. Goin’ to let each floor separate,
-’cause it is too expensive a house for anybody to take whole, ’cept some
-rich feller like me.”</p>
-
-<p>During the last six months the floor exactly opposite Dick’s window had
-been vacant. After three months had passed without a tenant, he told Dr.
-Griffin that he had decided to reserve that floor for his own use.</p>
-
-<p>“I’m goin’ to come home pretty soon and settle down, you see,” he said,
-“and so I thought I’d keep that floor for myself. I don’t need the whole
-house, and I can just as well let the other tenants stay.”</p>
-
-<p>And now, after three months more had passed, here were people moving
-into his apartments!</p>
-
-<p>Dr. Griffin called that very afternoon, and found Dick looking unusually
-animated.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, well, Dick!” he exclaimed. “So, after all you’ve decided to rent
-your apartments? You have neighbors, I see. I fear you will never return
-now and settle down as you intended.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, that’s no neighbors, Doctor,” replied Dick, contemptuously;
-“that’s my family. I’ve come home to stay, and brought my family, you
-see.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_151" id="page_151">{151}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>“You don’t tell me so! Why, what a stupid old fellow I am, to be sure!”
-cried the Doctor, with feigned self-scorn. “How large a family have you,
-Dick?”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, only&mdash;only one, as I care ’specially about. Look&mdash;look at her,
-Doctor!” catching the Doctor’s hand and leaning forward in his chair.
-“See her a-fixin’ the nice little curtain at the window? She’s a regular
-neat one, she is, my little woman over there. She was a-cleanin’ the
-windows and things this mornin’ with her hair so slick and a span clean
-apron on. That’s the kind of girl I like. I allers liked that kind.
-Isn’t she the right kind, eh, Doctor?”</p>
-
-<p>Dr. Griffin saw a trim young woman with rosy cheeks, looping back scrim
-curtains with pink ribbons. He nodded gravely.</p>
-
-<p>“From my brief acquaintance, I should say she was,” he answered. “I
-congratulate you on your good luck. With such a family as that, you
-ought to be a happy fellow!”</p>
-
-<p>“Queer little fellow; queer little fellow,” he said to himself, as he
-went down the stairs. “Strange notion that about his home and family.”</p>
-
-<p>When Dick awoke the following day he felt a new sense of happiness in
-the thought of his neighbor opposite. He hurried through his tedious
-ceremony of dressing, ate his frugal breakfast, hobbled into his
-invalid-chair, and gave an eager glance across the street. Yes, there
-were the dainty<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_152" id="page_152">{152}</a></span> curtains still at the window, so it was no dream. He
-watched for a glimpse of the occupant, but she did not appear. Then he
-laughed a little softly to himself.</p>
-
-<p>“Of course, she wouldn’t be hangin’ around the window at all hours; she
-isn’t that sort; and, of course, I’m over there now, and she’s a-pourin’
-coffee for me; we take breakfast sort of late to-day, ’cause we’re just
-home from Europe, and I haven’t gone down to the office yet. After I get
-off she’ll brush around and set things to right, and&mdash;hello! I must have
-gone now you know for there she is a-whiskin’ the dust off the
-window-sill as pretty as ever and as neat as a pin. All the time I’m
-down at the office with them pesky clerks of mine a-botherin’ me I’ll be
-thinkin’ of that sweet little woman up here waitin’ for me.”</p>
-
-<p>“We do have very sociable times,” Dick told the Doctor a month later.
-“That little woman and I seem made for each other. She’s just the right
-sort. We never have no fusses, and things go so comfortable-like all the
-time.”</p>
-
-<p>“And how do you like the other party? There’s a man there also, I see.
-How do you like him?”</p>
-
-<p>Dick flushed painfully, and a deep frown settled on his face. There was
-a man whom he saw from time to time sitting at the window after the
-dinner hour reading his paper. But the moment he made his appearance,
-Dick closed his eyes or left the window seat. He regarded the man as an
-intruder<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_153" id="page_153">{153}</a></span>&mdash;a shadow upon his home life, a serpent in his Eden.</p>
-
-<p>Sunday was a day of restlessness and discontent, because the man was
-there all day long, and on Sundays he avoided the invalid-chair, which
-was his seat on all other days. Now, when he heard Dr. Griffin speak of
-the man as a real being, he suffered all the bitter and mortifying pangs
-of jealousy which might come to a man who hears a stranger give words to
-a suspicion of his wife’s disloyalty to which he has striven to blind
-himself.</p>
-
-<p>“A man&mdash;a&mdash;yes&mdash;there’s a man there sometimes,” Dick stammered; “he’s
-a&mdash;a sort of poor relative, don’t you know. One of my relations, you
-see, and I can’t very well turn him off.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I see,” answered the Doctor, noticing Dick’s confusion and
-hastening to help him out. “Well, everybody has some one of that sort.
-I’ve half a dozen poor relatives who live on me. Some one of them is
-with us most of the time. A little uncomfortable occasionally may be,
-because every man’s house is his castle where he wants to be alone at
-times. But we who have homes have no right to be selfish; we must share
-them with less fortunate people. Happiness must not make us selfish.”</p>
-
-<p>Dick’s face brightened. His heart had grown light and happy while the
-Doctor spoke.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s just what I tell myself and the little woman,” he said. “Often
-she doesn’t like to have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_154" id="page_154">{154}</a></span> the fellow droppin’ in and spoilin’ our chats”
-(Dick felt an immense satisfaction in saying this), “but I tell her with
-just our two selves we’d get selfish with happiness unless we had
-somethin’ to do for another. But he does break up our Sundays
-awfully&mdash;scarcely can get a word alone, that fellow’s pokin’ around so.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, well, you can afford him one day in the week, and I wouldn’t let
-him bother me; just be as happy as if he wasn’t around.”</p>
-
-<p>Somehow Dick felt much better after this talk. He had tried to ignore
-the presence of the man opposite, but now he could acknowledge it, and
-definitely locate the man in his thought as a poor dependent, who was
-benefitted by his bounty. He enjoyed thinking that the little woman
-objected more or less to the fellow, and that she allowed him so much
-liberty only to please Dick. As the weeks rolled on he confessed to the
-Doctor that the fellow was really useful at times.</p>
-
-<p>“Rainy days he goes to market for the little woman,” he said, “and often
-runs out on errands for us.”</p>
-
-<p>“Dick’s house” had been occupied six months when a whole week passed
-without his seeing his “little woman” at the window. During that six
-months there had scarcely been an afternoon during which she had not sat
-for an hour or two at the window with her sewing. Dick had grown to
-think of that hour as the bright spoke in the wheel<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_155" id="page_155">{155}</a></span> of the day. She
-looked at him so kindly and gently, and he used to imagine he was lying
-on a lounge in the room, reading aloud to her as she sewed, and that her
-kind, warm smile was one of love, not of pity. And when a whole week
-passed without his once seeing her, Dick found himself in a nervous
-fever, with a blinding headache from having gazed so eagerly and
-anxiously across the street, and Grandfather Levy sent for Dr. Griffin.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s somethin’ the matter over the way,” whispered Dick, as soon as
-the Doctor was alone with him. “I haven’t seen her for a whole week;
-there’s a strange woman there, and I’m sure she’s sick. I couldn’t sleep
-all last night for worryin’ about her.”</p>
-
-<p>Dr. Griffin went to the window and looked out. Then he took a magnifying
-glass from his pocket, and deliberately stared into the window opposite.</p>
-
-<p>Then he went back to Dick. “My dear fellow,” he said, “you are to be
-congratulated. You are a father. I saw the nurse walking up and down the
-room with the child in her arms. It is a bad habit, by the way, and you
-must tell her not to teach it to the child. You can’t begin too young
-with them.”</p>
-
-<p>After the Doctor went away, Dick buried his face in his pillow and wept
-softly.</p>
-
-<p>“A little baby&mdash;yes, my little baby,” he whispered. “God bless the
-little woman. Some day<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_156" id="page_156">{156}</a></span> she will sit with it at the window, and I shall
-have them both for company.”</p>
-
-<p>And then one day, a soft, warm day, late in May, there she sat at the
-window again, with lilies instead of roses in her cheeks, and the bundle
-of flannel in her arms. She smiled at Dick, and tears of joy and love
-welled up in his eyes as he gazed upon the two.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve got two of ’em for company now, the little woman and the baby,” he
-whispered.</p>
-
-<p>After that the days seemed very happy and bright, and Dick thought
-himself the richest man on earth. Only he wondered why the roses did not
-come back to the little woman’s cheeks.</p>
-
-<p>“She doesn’t look as well as she ought to,” he told the Doctor one day
-in June, and the Doctor, peering over his spectacles, shook his head as
-he looked at her, but Dick did not see it.</p>
-
-<p>Passing down the block one day, Dr. Griffin came face to face with a
-little girl who wheeled a baby carriage, and, as he glanced under the
-awning, he was startled to see two weirdly brilliant eyes, the very
-counterpart of Dick’s, gazing up at him.</p>
-
-<p>“Whose child is this? Does it live over in the brick flats there?”
-queried the Doctor.</p>
-
-<p>The little girl nodded.</p>
-
-<p>“Second flight up?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Queer enough, queer enough,” he mused, as he walked on.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_157" id="page_157">{157}</a></span></p>
-
-<p>“Your baby has eyes exactly like you, Dick,” said the Doctor, a few days
-later. “Honestly, no joking; I saw the little fellow on the street and
-knew him by his eyes.”</p>
-
-<p>After that Dick’s heart went out to the baby more and more, and he was
-eager to see it. One day he saw the little nurse-girl wheeling the
-carriage, and as fast as his lame body would permit he hurried and
-hobbled down to the street, hoping it would pass near him. Sure enough
-it did, and Dick’s heart jumped into his throat as he leaned on his cane
-and peered into the carriage to catch his first glimpse of the baby he
-had grown to think of as his own. Yes, those were his own eyes&mdash;his very
-own gazing up at him, and he touched the little hand with reverence and
-awe. The baby laughed and twisted its small soft fingers about his
-thumb, and clung to his hand as if unwilling to let him go. For weeks
-after that he would wake at night, thinking he felt that clinging touch
-upon his hand; and those great dark, startled eyes, the very counterpart
-of his own, seemed illuminating the night for him.</p>
-
-<p>It was early November when he failed to see the baby at the window or on
-the street; nor did the mother appear at the window for four days. The
-morning of the fifth day, Dick saw from his window a little white hearse
-drawn by white ponies pause at the house opposite, and then some one
-came out with a small casket followed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_158" id="page_158">{158}</a></span> by the “male relative” and a few
-sad-faced friends.</p>
-
-<p>That day Dick entered Gethsemane, and the mourners who followed the
-little baby to its last resting-place shed no bitterer tears than he.
-Mixed with his keen anguish for the loss of the child was fear for the
-life of the mother who was too ill to attend the burial.</p>
-
-<p>That night Dr. Griffin was sent for, and he found Dick so ill and
-feverish that he was alarmed. His tears mingled with Dick’s, when the
-poor boy told him of the baby’s death, and begged him to go over and
-inquire after the “little woman.”</p>
-
-<p>“You can ask the janitor, Doctor; just say friends opposite want to
-inquire after her; you needn’t say no more.”</p>
-
-<p>The Doctor did as Dick desired, and came back shortly, making an effort
-to speak cheerfully.</p>
-
-<p>“The janitor says Mrs.&mdash;”</p>
-
-<p>“The little woman,” interrupted Dick. “Yes, yes; how is she?” Not for
-worlds would he have heard her name spoken.</p>
-
-<p>“She is ill, suffering from a prostration caused by grief,” the Doctor
-replied. “But she is young, and she will rally in a few weeks no doubt.
-You must brace up, old man, and be ready to comfort her. If you don’t
-look after yourself a little better I won’t promise for the consequences
-to your health. You’ve overtaxed yourself lately, and you must keep very
-quiet now for a few days.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_159" id="page_159">{159}</a></span>”</p>
-
-<p>But each day Dick dragged himself to the window to see if the little
-woman was visible. And on the tenth day after the baby’s funeral, a
-black hearse with nodding black plumes, and black horses with jet
-harness and dangling black tassels, stood at the house opposite; and
-Dick, with panting breath and wild eyes, crawled down the stairs, and
-out upon the street, for he seemed choking in the house, and he thought
-he must hinder those cruel people from taking away the little woman. He
-could not, could not let her go from him forever, and when he saw them
-lifting the casket into the hearse, he reached out his arms, tried to
-cry out and stop them, and then he fell over weak and helpless, with
-strange sounds ringing in his ears and warm blood spurting from his
-mouth. When he awoke to consciousness he was lying on his couch, and Dr.
-Griffin and Grandfather Levy were bending over him with tears in their
-eyes.</p>
-
-<p>He tried to speak, and with each syllable the blood gushed again from
-his lips.</p>
-
-<p>“You mustn’t talk,” said the Doctor. “You are very weak and it may be
-fatal to you if you do not keep quiet.”</p>
-
-<p>He drew the Doctor’s head down close to his lips.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s no use tryin’ to save me,” he whispered. “I’d rather go&mdash;I
-couldn’t stand it livin’ on with both of ’em gone. I’ve nothin’ to live
-for now&mdash;no ambition or pleasure left. I’ve had all the pleasure<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_160" id="page_160">{160}</a></span> I’ll
-ever get out of life, Doctor, this year back. It’s kinder to let me
-go&mdash;and&mdash;follow my family.”</p>
-
-<p>&nbsp;</p>
-
-<p>The hemorrhage set in anew, and with the red gushing tide, Dick’s soul
-passed out to seek those of the little woman and the baby.</p>
-
-<div class="figc"><img src="images/i160.jpg" alt="" /></div>
-
-<hr class="full" />
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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