Illustrious American *** America, guardian of world-democracy! Rampart of human liberty! All eyes are now on thee: from rich plateau and sandy plain, from every cove and inland sea; Defender of the down-trod serfs, battling to make all slavery end,- protector of the Refugee and Mender of the broken hopes of men. Thy rugged shores beckon from other lands the freedom-lovers of the world, to find here on these golden sands a haven 'neath the flag-of-unity unfurled. Aflame within thy breast pulsate the raw desires and protests of the Nordic, Russ and Magyar; and well does thy memory retain the songs and the loves of the Scot, the Swede and Tartar. Thy ancestral vein runs back to the dwellers along the Danube and the Seine, and the children along the Thames and the Volga revere thy name. !n thee culminate the dreams of the races of the earth; and all men are thy brothers,- for thou are the great Cosmopolitan, the composite World-Citizen, emissary to the world's friendless ones- illustrious American! Dauntless rebel for social-justice, equality and fraternity, struggling for a higher humaner civilization where some day, men practicing Christian brotherhood, will discard war and greed and let the land and its fruits, like the sea and the sun, become the common heritage of man! Release * * * How often, 0 how often, have I burst through the bars of my cage, in pursuit of the hawk and the lark to their secluded mountain hiding; and then, amid the mysterious beauty of Nature, went sailing light-heartedly away with them across sequestered waters, where I too dipt my wings into the tranquil blue of the crystal lake! * * * To live in this world is a joy to each one of us, though we may be unwilling to admit it; for no matter what surface-disturbances are ours,- yet deep beneath everyone is saying: "Afterall, isn't living sweet!" Evening Peace *** Soft murm'rings of the ev'ning breeze blending with distant echoes of the Whip-er-Will's call; a gentle soughing in the sleeping trees, and sounds of leaves that fall. Memories of childhood, and a sweet-heart or two; life and light, with joy that overflows. Moonlight glistening on the ev'ning dew; and calm inner-peace from the Unseen-One who knows. Children's laughter in the distant heard, and love-thoughts wild that only in the heart are stirred! Darkness falling on the wings of Night, and stealthily falling on the brooding Stillness; with deep'ning shadows chasing other shadows in nymph-like A last look at a purple-furrowed sky, narrowed toward the West where fleece-like clouds pass and mourn and cry for a day that's gone to rest. Then countless hours in dream-thought spent, in soliloquy and happy contemplation on glory and accomplishment; on friendship, honor, strength and a lovable home! Thus lingering long in meditation, until at length all the dear and gilded fancies of the morn are flown, while but one fond hope survives,- and only the Infinite and I are left alone! My Gift America! I give the best that I possess, dear Motherland to you, my gracious Alma Mater glad smiles, mistakes, considerateness, with hope and zest and all it takes for soul-full happiness. My strength and thoughts, my precious hours all for you unstintedly, nor count the price! Yea more, my love and life I offer too,- a holy sacrifice, as my cheerful gift to You. Great Possessions GREAT possessions are not essential to happiness; but a glad heart and a clear conscience are. With these, as our prized possession, we may richly enjoy whatever small or large measure of wealth has come our way. Our source of income may be meager, yet if we spend just a little less than we earn and keep a hopeful outlook, we will find we are still ahead of the Game. However, whether rich or poor, proletariat or aristocrat, vagabond or gentlemen, we must concede that social-security and equal opportunity for wealth acquisition must ever be the sacred right of every individual. In the last analysis though, they are richest and most content, who having found their peace-of-mind, their equanimity and place in the complex scheme of things, have nurtured and acquired a material, mental, and moral equilibrium. We Fight! What For? * * * We fight for our way-of-life and life itself. We fight that we may live as sane and social beings. We fight for homes and opportunities to give our children glad and welcome birth. We fight to slay the Dragon that has his ugly claws in everyone who breathes in every corner of the earth. We, human liberators everywhere- on battlefield dieing and on the desert burning, on Russian hills and Libyian sands, on every continent and island of the Seas, in industry sweating and by home-fires yearning: we fight for more enjoyment of earthly wealth our labor produces and for a hit of soil to call our own. We fight for the democratic State where we may live unmolested by tyrants with a bloody sword, by brazen Autocrats of stolen gold and power, and smirking slick Magicians who keep us poor and dumb. We fight for the union of humanity: yet to each their own form of government. for collective security among Nations we fight and for a World Federation where every State is assured access to materials it needs for economic prosperity; and for such a world where all the slaves walk free. We fight to speed the day the architects may again re-build the devastated Lands, and men's sublirnest dreams may be carried out, and Industry hum; that Christ-like trust and fellowship return to every sea and shore, that common-sense and sanity will come, and Monsters rule the world no more. Common Clay Could we but peep within the hearts and thoughts of others, we'd notice something there akin to make us all as brothers. Could we but lend a helping hand a little quicker, kinder,- a vision clear we would command as a reminder that human feet are common clay which sometimes slip and often stumble; and then reflecting this, we'd surely be more helpful, and more humble. * * * Carefree Long I tarry on sunny hills to drink the blue of the sky; long I list to music of playful rills and say: "Who is so rich as I? Patiently I grow and flower in spacious garden lands, the while nurtured by a raindrop from a summer-shower and fanned by fairy hands. By the south-wind rockt and tosst, and softly kisst by the morning mist, and by the bee that comes to sip the nectar from my lip. Wanderlust *** I hear the call of the wide open spaces,- I'm fretful for the Road; I dream of the green Oasis where travelers make their abode. I yearn for the freedom of earth and sky and the great broad world as my home, for within my breast is Wanderlust which nothing else will satisfy except to loaf at ease and roam. It is a call that clamors to be heard in a soul-appealing way; like the plaint of a captive bird, intensified; or the chirping song of a swallow in a chiding rondelay, from which one dares not turn aside but must obediently follow. I cannot say If it's something in the balmy air or the gypsy in my blood, that whirls my thoughts in a daze; but truly there is an urge my rebellious spirit fills,- some touch of the buccaneer, a vagabonding mood, or the lure to reach the haze on far-off hills! I hear the self-same bechoning each new and glorious Spring; engulfing my soul in restlessness, deliciously,- and setting my feet ajourneying for distant street and tranquil dale, that gladden my heart in devious ways, so many days through foot-paths along the Friendly Trail. The Dignity of Labor * * * Attention there! You idlers everywhere! Stand aside, make-way; for this is the day of earnest toilers of brain and braun and of the bold defenders of our Land. Men in battle cannot fight without bullets! Men in battle and men in industry cannot carry-on without a full stomach. So stand aside, you dawdlers everywhere, make-way for busy determined men,- since we have a war and peace to win. * * * To work, at present and anytime, is highly dignified and commendable. Only effeminate snobs and useless drones think it un-refined to be classed among the workers. Rather, it is un-manly and un-patriotic not to work. All work which is essential is honorable. All work well-done is art-and dignified; Whether plowing, printing, or portrait-painting. Is not all wealth produced by labor? by labor applied to natural resources? There is nothing accomplished without effort. At present, to work and work hard is heroic, For it takes lots of work to conduct a war. Whatever humans have achieved in this world, and what they still hope to achieve, in science, art, business, morals and home-building, is all the result of hard persevering WORK. What Is Mortal Life? * * * What is man's odd caravan of turbulent years, but a swiftly moving stream rushing onward toward an Ocean! What is man's brief span, but joys and fears enmeshed in a troubled Dream of strange incidents and motion! What is man's life but a colorful tale that's quickly told! What is his life, but a mirage pale, that fades e'en while we behold! What is his life, but dust and vapour, mixed with spirit and air. What is it but a dying taper, sparkling aglow, only to dissappear! What is mortal life? but a flower that grows;- and grows and grows, and then is touched by the frost and shivers. What is it! but a full-blown rose that's scorched by the noon-day sun, and calmly withers! That, my friend, is earthly life; a flash, a thought, a breeze, a span! That my brother, is human strife; the swift little journey of mortal man! Hope We have traveled the Road of Night, dream-dimmed and beset with snares,- where hideous seductive voices in the throbbing Dark enticed, and threatened to destroy; hut, Morning came, and with it Light and Hope! * * * My Cry and My Song My Cry and my Song is a paean of astonished amazement at the wealth of human gratification awaiting man's awakening; a chant of joyful participation in daily events, making living a precious adventure. My Cry is a song of triumph for men and women,- jubilant, rejoicant; because of virt'ry in this our homelike world; because of so much to live-for, with no need to wait for another re-incarnation to know the pleasures of heaven or the pains of hell,- since sufficiency is on the threshold,- is here, at hand, prepared for every human heart. The Drones Lounging languorously in limousines,- affluent, over-dresst avordupoise; modern Cleopatras, acting, talking, yet after all, only noise! Heartless, brainless, and bereft. the higher aims of man; wasting, trifling,- gaudy, pompous, impudent; every movement but a sham. Idling through their languid days, incompetent, indifferent, profligate; stagy, vain, pretentious in all their ways, wastrel, wanton, degenerate; And relieved of wholesome pleasure, labor, strife; voracious, thoughtless,- anxious to deceive,- dissipating out a useless life! * * * Equality To be equal with one and all,- not only our duty,- but a necessity; as well as to each the same opportunity and rights of possession, that justice may be done. Light-heartedness Cheerfully swings the heart along, attuned and lightheartedly; for even though the flesh and the mind suffer with the grievings of humankind, and strive religiously to make amends; still, there need be no weariness in altruistic trends while there is faith and sincere brotherhood; nor can the memory find a pain that has not helped us onward toward the Good! * * * Compensative Worth The love we may give and take,- the beauty appealing to us everywhere, the freedom of thought and fancy,- the delight of un-restraint,- the fragrance and charm of friends, the balm and warmth of human sympathy,- the revered memory of noble lives,- the grandeur of illustrious minds;- these are things that compensate in full for our every lack of good or excess of ill we may have charged against life,- which offset by their luster, all that is cheerless, ugly, mean and vicious! Exultation * * * Here in the U.S.A. at ev'ry dawn of another day, at Wry view of sunset's purple splendor, at ev'ry glimpse of verdant pasture lands and stretching mountain ranges; upon ev'ry look at midnight's starry vastness, at ev'ry thrill with the love of true comradship, at each thought of the marvelous possibilities and powers of the human mind-, we pause in exultation! When we contemplate in all its fullness the perfect Mechanism of the Universe the sovereignity of the individual, the protection of a powerful Nation, and Natures bountiful provision for us all, we can only stand in owe and cry aloud in exhuberant praise! We must revel in joy of our anticipation of achievements, temporal and immortal, made possible by the unity of purpose and action of our one-hundred-and-thirty-million people! When we ponder the manifold benefits of privileged existence of breathing the freedom-air in a strong united Democracy,- physical, educational, spiritual benefits,- of health, wealth, friendship, knowledge, and the many human contacts, all large, generous, boundless and un-restrained, we can only acclaim: "How glorious this delight of being! How grand to live, to love, to know!" Immortal Atom Out of the microcosmical I rise! Up from the infinitesimal to the supernal I force my way. With snail-like process and indescribable patience creep through aeons of Time, amid protozoon, hydra, newt, and deep-sea slime; up through the creature-stages of Pisces, reptile, amphibian, and oborigonal-man; and thence onward blundering through superstition, fear, ignorance,- yet ever advancing in spite of false leaders toward the finished product of spiritualized Anthropos I journey on my ameliorating way! I, the indestructible individualist! * * * In the Garden of the Heart In the garden of the heart bloom the lillies of fond desire; bloom the roses fanned to sacred fire; flow the rivers of endless peace, glow the flames of loved release; in the garden of the heart. Out of the garden of the heart blows the perfume of passion flowers,- grows the fruit of love and blessed hours; stalks mystery, to be mystery freed,- walks the king, to be king indeed! Out of the garden of the heart. To the Lord of Life * * * Thy glory glows in the golden dawn, thy splendor shows in the crimson rose; thy skill in the agile fawn; and in the mother's soft caress we see thy beneficence and tenderness. On silent beach and crowded mall, we hear thy speech, We sense thy call! Yea, in storm and calm, and in the voice of thunder we see thy strength, and in the force that rents earth's crust asunder. Pray tell, who fashions the lilly's cup and clothes the earth with green? Who creates the smiling vales and winter's icy mien? Who shapes the hailstones in thunder-showers and sends the raindrops, frost, and dew; forms crystals in the snow-flakes and paints the rainbow colors in summer-flowers,-ah indeed, Who? Lo, Lord of Life, on ev'ry hand appear thy gifts; on verdant plain and forest land, and in the raging river; while unto human lives rich peace and happy consciousness tHy grace bestows abundantly,- great Lord of Life, 0 Bountiful Giver! Awakening So new, seems the world today! New hope and faith is in the air since Winter's dreams have blown away, and life springs up from everywhere. As if from caves men come forth to labor and rejoice; youth and birds come out to sing; everyone with new ambition, heart, and voice, for now is resurrection and the Spring! * * * The Humanist The greatest among men is the humanist; who loves all humanity, and places the needs of others far above his own. He does not really wish to do or to have what mankind at large cannot have. His desire is for universal happiness, usefulness, eduction, perfection,- rather than for selfish individual goodness. These Things My Heart Has Met These things my heart has met: the perfume of love's divine sweet breath, the sting of remorse and the pall of death. The glory of the golden dawn and the glow of the setting sun; the wonder and the vanity of brain and braun, and the anguish of the tempted one. The flattery of flowers and the ephemeral of grass,- the flush of new wine and the love of many a lass. The longing for the brighter Morrow and the sparkle of mirth,- the gloom of sorrow and the reverence of the earth. The beauty of friendship and the coldness of fear; the lilt of song and the weight of many a tear! The magic touch of woman's lips and the charm and grace of young and old; the pure divinity of an angelic face and the bliss of heaven deep in the soul; the scorn of fools and malice of knaves I've met; the esteem of men, and strange mystical feelings, inexplicable feelings, beyond human ken. And Elysium have I met with truth and right, and love's bright flame held high aloft; and hells of cruel-thoughts with fires of jealousy, discord, and pain. All these have I met, and doubtless will meet again, until at last I meet the grim Reaper, the Harvester Death! who reaps and reaps with his sickle of wrath, and sweeps and sweeps all in his wide Path; for He is the great Reaper, the lord of the Reapers,- the Harvester of Breath! June The year is still so young, and life's at flow of tide; while a friendly sun sends healing rays through windows opened wide. On ev'ry hand new leaves and buds appear,- eviryone as if from tombs; and all the sunlit gardens are astir with fragrance from the blooms. From out of its chambered cage my joyous spirit runs, to spend a day with forest friends and other un-caged ones in God's great Out-of-doors; together we go feasting then on bounties spread before us. In soothing sun and air together we revel,- until at length with goodly droughts of woodland smells we satisfy and heal ourselves. * * * Abandon Deeply I inhale the curative anodyne of sylvan dale and wooded hill, while my thoughts I let frolic freely as they will. I sniff the rarified ozone, enriched with cedar, sandal-wood and clove; and it seems as if I cannot sniff quite enough! and then relax and surrender in reckless abandon, losing all sense of bodily presence. Presently I become so permeated with life that I mount, as if on wings! I rise, and soar,- like the eagle in her upward flight, like the swelling tide, I rise; and like the river-freshet,- heaving full of freedom! For You and For Me * * * For me the bobolink sings, and the spider weaves her web; for you and for me the bee wings from flower to flower and tree to tree,- for you and for me. For me the cosmos and the daisies shed their petals, and bow their head. For you and for me the moonsheen's silvery, and the sunset's gory red; for you and for me. Calm is the dusk and peaceful our sleep, when day has been bright; and kindly vagrant stars keep faithful vigil through the night,- for you and for me. On Springtime's wings in May and June, honeyed lilacs waft their rich perfume to you and to me; and ev'ry month Some fragrance rare enrich's the radiant air at morning, night, and noon for you and for me. Yea more, though this redundant be! A generous Hand, unseen, unsung, gives life, and love abundantly; paints jonquils gold, and gentians blue, gives earth her richness, glory, hue, for you and for me! Arrival We may not all arrive at our destination precisely at the appointed time,- but, we can at least preserve our true course. * * * Estacy Who will share with me fond ecstacy and love fraternally? Who will join to celebrate the rapturous joys of animated consciousness? Then come with me so we may jubilate in carefree juvenescence and mirthful gaiety. Bring robust fellow-feeling, with taste and song, exquisitely. Then let us chat and fraternize convivially, and visit long, platonic and congenial as brother-creatures of the soil, to gladden each other companionably in body, mind, and heart; enjoying our beneficent sun, earth, and sky, and whatever else is here, soul-satisfying with substance and replete with gratification for our luxury-craving senses! A Roving Star For Pomp and Flare I would not care, nor wish to drink bacch'na I ian wine; much rather be for travelers free some guiding star to shine. I would not want to wear a crown, nor in some sheltered vale to settle down,- could I but always be a brightly shining star for sailors on the sea. A jolly roving star then let me be; without home-ties or affixed abode, to wander on and on and know no rest; and shine and shine to luminate the lonely Road where anxious souls pursue unending quest. * * * The Kingdom of Heaven The kingdom of heaven will eventuate when more heavenly principles ore lived out by the dwellers on earth in their everyday lives; and when more individuals exhibit the spirit of friendly unselfish service. The outward display of beautiful, or heavenly surroundings, will readily follow when heavenly thoughts and feelings issue from a large enough majority! The Rainy Day * * * I love a rainy day now and then, when I may shirk some trivial task and stay away from accustomed work to spend the time in rummaging through musty souvenirs that waken memories of flaming youth and courtin' years! O yes indeed, 1 do prefer the bright and sunny days, that garland the earth with gold and green; but say, I also love the rainy day that's sandwiched in between. On rainy days the wooded hill is fast asleep, wrapped in a guazy haze; while the gnomes are still and birds have no song, and only feathery clouds, like droves of downy sheep move drowsily all day long. Dreamily I watch the musical rain, dripping off the steaming roof and streaming down the crying window-pane; 'tis then I like to think the rain is good,- to sprout the seed and grow the wood,- thus serving as the Season's chaperon to do those many miracles, so human lives may have their livelihood and strength to carry-on. How wholesome to enjoy the music of the wind moaning in the trees, to which one may hum some long-forgotten tune;- now tearing at defenseless twigs and wilily whistling 'round the eaves; then sighing and talking consolingly, on days like these! It's on such days one thinks of Thanks, for the gifts of the years; for friendship, love, and money in banks! For health and smiles, and even tears! Yea, for raiment and for bread in a land of peace, and for a well-built roof over one's head. Yet even though today the clouds may be hanging low, we need not fretful be; since we may know the clouds will presently pass, along with the goodly rain, and soon the land will smile once more, for the sun will surely shine again! The Common Aim In the final check-up we may find that all forces in the world are working to advance the general welfare of mankind. Eventually, we may discover that all political, social, industrial, fraternal, civic, and religious groups do their part heroically, even though it may appear that some took a devious route to arrive at the same destination. * * * The rarest delights of life have never come to him who has not learned that it is grander to give than to receive. When we ascertain that giving is getting; that serving is ruling and ruling is serving; that loving is being loved; that helping is being useful; that we may have no enemies if we do not hate; that the kingdom of heaven is within us; that paradise is en- tered by right living; that there are not good and bad people but merely fortunate and unfortunate ones; THEN, life's wondrous enjoyments come to us all the time. My Bivouac * * * Oft, when the last streaks of vermilion Sunset have faded, and there is then no more of rapturous beauty for me to see; I pause by the wayside,- and in an instant construct my cabin for the night along the edge of some friendly forest! Arched protecting arms of a hemlock or a pine, and the diamond-studded inky sky, form the roof; and the darkness around, the four solid trusty walls! Thus, well-pleased with my bivouac I'm soon reclined, outstretched, and relaxed; offering a prayer of thanks to the Divine Protector for the blessing of the day, and for peace to every living creature; and then, suggesting youth and harmony to the subconsciousness, so that I may grow in youthfulness and poise the while slumbering. Meanwhile, wonders of inspirational thought and feeling hover 'round in the symphonic silences, ere the matchless music of the sylvan night lulls the senses off to rest. There is more than fruit and leaves to a tree; there is more than lumber in a tree-trunk! Indeed,- volumes of inspirational song, and a wealth of art and beauty issue forth from one lone pine upon a knoll! * * * Refreshment Through woodland grove and fertile plain I roved upon my journey long as in a sensuous dream; until fatigued from want of drink I stopt to hear the cheerful song of a sparling, mur'ring stream. I stooped beside the strearnlet's mossy brink and quietly dipt my little cup in cool refreshing waters that laughed and raced in glee and smiled the while they gladly offered up their treasures rare to me. Lo then, while on my traveling through the years,- love-sweetened and full o' smiles,- I'll pause a moment now and then to drop my hates and fears beside the Springs of Life that flood with joy; where eagerly I'll plunge my goblet of silver mirth, and drink deeply from the blessings of the Earth! Dream Idyll I muse and dream, a dream of yore; I dream of days and years of incarnations gone before. I dream of heart-aches, pain, defeat,- of such as mortals never knew. I dream of love and song, and of the many friendships that grew in the garden of the soul for ages long. In sunny breezes along a far-flung ocean reach, away from acrid mundane strife, upon this lonely barren beach I meditate, and ponder on the mystery of life! Underneath these strange unchartered skies, I dream a dream of silent rest, touched by the magic touch of Heaven's breast. While for off yonder there in space, in a dream-filled haze see through vaporous tears far down the labyrinthian maze of ancient years, the actors that appeared in their turn in the endless Drama,- who've vanished now as strangely as they came, to Lands Unseen, and valiantly erased their foot-prints and closed the Gate between! Then, through the threshold of the mind's mysterious door, I behold, 0 such cool, celestial caves and languid lacy trees, waving in a surf-tapestried opal-ocean breeze! I look intently, and lo, I see heavenly glories spread before! 0 say, I'm enraptured and amazed at the beauty visioned o'er; until ecstatic and entranced, I enter triumphantly, Heaven's Elysium Shore! (Written on the 3rd day of the Nation-wide heat wave, July 15, 1937, in Atlantic City, N. J.) The Unseen Habitant That which you judge to be me is really not me! You are misled by outward appearances. What you see is but a faint reflection of what I am,- a carpenter, tinker, tradesman or printer. That is not even my business! And what might be my business? Well, just to be helpful, glad and kind; as glad and kind as I can. And above all, to use my mind to build the very best I know. What you see is but the shell hiding the kernel What you see is my vocation, which secures me the needs for the physical, ephemeral. What is truly me strikes deeper root, and you see it but once in a while. * * * The Conquering Attitude Our vitality should be of such a high voltage that we will feel in every atom of our being, we are predestined to be the happy smiling conquerors shining with the light of truth; and therefore cannot help diffusing beneficence wherever we go, since we are the spiritualized Anthropos,- the upward-looking, forward-moving creatures with a social brain,-the highest, divinest aim of all Creation! The Soul of Poetry * * * I am the mystic soul of prophesy, interpreting the language of the stars; I am the tranquilizer, silencing the turbulent multitude, and pacifying the anguish in a million troubled hearts! To and fro I go, among ev'ry breed of men, in ev'ry clime; I step admidst contention and there is calm. am the soul of poetry;- continually I hear sounds not to be spoken or heard by jittery mortal man, and translate them into the crude dialect of the Time I sense the clumsy dumb desires of the Masses, and fit them to words and song of the Spirit-of-the-Times! Day and night, melodies unheard by the rabble in the street, vibrate in my ear. I grasp the sublime utt'rances of flower and bird and clothe them in the coarse garment of human speech. Entranced by the symphonic sounds, I lose myself in a moment's reverie, where I become eyes to the blind, ears to the death and tongue to the dumb; lo, I become heart, and voice, and conscience for the surging Throng! The Weeds * * * Soon we shall lavish greater consideration upon the weeds of life! The weed is but an unloved flower needing thoughtful care. The pervert, the outcast, the racketeer- but products of neglected environment. As we emerge into more rational Understanding we will draw the weeds also high up to the status of admired sunkisst flowers! Eventually the weeds, the chaff, the rubbish, shall have found their place. Eventually, the Wilderness, the Alleys, the Ghettos will have been transformed into gardens of delight; presently the desert-lands and barren wastes- within and without- shall bring forth abundance and blossom as a rose; and man will become the crowned king, the purest, finest, human-divine form the world has ever known! Then, shall the grouse and wild hare be no more wild; nor shall man be filled with apprehensive fear; then shall neither man nor animal be the ferocious beast, but playmate to the child; nor will the elk and the deer evince the slightest fear at sight of man,- for man will have learned the better way, and every soul will have come into his own. Free-thought * * * From this day henceforth let me dedicate myself to the freedom of thought that will grant all men the widest latitude. From unhappy, unhealthy environment to free mankind; resolving to press no limits to anyone's thinking. Let me go where I list, or feel the free-est. East, West, let me go; to all savants and sages, to all philosophers and philosophies. Giving ear to them all, - listening well, contemplating long, and gladly hearing what they say, yet serenely formulating my own; ever breathing my own free air and going my gladsome way. for all space and time is yours and mine; from the Alps to the Himalayas, from the Pyrennes to the Caucasus, from the Rockies to the Andies. More-over, 1 cm larger, and you ore forger than the opinions of others; while no slave-thoughts can with-hold us within bounds, once we realize that we are expanding gods! Compassion * * * I see grim Justice take a brother-man from out the blacken'd bars and dragged an' hanged before my quivering eyes! I see another, flogged, humbled and abused; I sense their shame, I feel their pain as I too am humbled, flogged, and strangled by the neck! For I am he they hang! and I am he they flog! I am the drunkard, killer, thief,- but for the Grace o' God, or some trick of Fate! Yea, how heavily falls the Arm of Guilt on me? For 1 too must bear my apportioned share of the World's big sin as well as love and hate! In spite of all the good I would, I feel a choking weight, that drags me to the dust;- like part of a ponderous Grief hanging heavy on the world; and accept I must, my share of sorrow, loss, and ill; for I, like Christ and you, must carry my Cross, alone up the Hill! Social Harmony There is a song in man that few have found; abiding in the secret sanctuary of the human heart. They that befriend it, walk in the sunlight of happiest days, Clothed in the royal robes of noblest creaturehood. Then behold! What thrilliant music! of human lives in social-harmony, transcending all symphonic sounds! For believe, human unity bestows the highest state of ecstacy! * * * The Travelers Is not all activity for the progress of human unfoldment? for the mental and moral growth of individuals? for the development of character? for the development and preparation of immortality in the flesh? The kaleidoscopic march of events, civilizations, theories, conduct, arts, croft, industry, the refinements of culture and every mundane activity,- ore they not all the necessary sustenance for the Travelers? Thanksgiving Soon every man will thankful be, and kind; endowed with gentleness and mercy for the weak, the poor, the blind. Soon, each will know to think and pray, and grant every one the right to live, to speak, to work and play. Soon, a larger interest will flow from man to man, and from man to brother-creatures in the rank below. Soon, all life from out the chrysalis will be human-leavened with the leaven of the humanist. Then thankful everyone,- each day, each hour; for peace in Nation, home, and soul; give thanks for love, for life and mental power to journey onward toward the Goal! * * * O Stars of the Night O stars of the night, so shy and discreet; will you kindly answer: are there other Planets that wait for the tread of our anxious feet? Are there other worlds,- fairer, grander,- where human hearts encompass a larger pleasure, freedom, bliss? 0 you eternal jovial stars,- I believe it not; none other Land's as fair as this! Harvester I am the jovial harvester, feasting on the sunset's vermillion artistry of autumn's frescoed sky! I am the tireless reaper, gathering the sparkle of the dew in the early morning light. With generous smiles and rays of cheerfulness I laugh my granary full. Ceaselessly I gather acres of priceless possessions from flowering trees and fragrant meadow lands. I harvest the fertile field's glory, (and leave the farmer his hay!) I take uncounted wealth from prolific growing crops afar and near; and garner the laughter and the buoyancy from young and old, along the city's turbulent mart, and store them all as new-found joys in the inner-most vaults of the heart to draw upon when Winter comes. * * * Ephemeral Like a blade of grass does man appear; up, up from the ground. and, as the noon-day shadow does he pass from mortal sphere and can no more be found. Twilight Comes now the dusky Stillness, brooding meditatively; enveiling the landscape in the sombre hue of Twilight's mysterious haze; and then noiselessly enshrouding the view with the cloak of Night,- while the peaceful Silence steals abroad,- broken only by the thrush singing his ev'ning song. But soon even his clear sweet notes melt away, leaving me with the Solitude, yielding resignedly into the comforting Arms of Morpheus! * * * We are rich, for we live in mansions whose architecture is the finest ever known. * * * We are rich, for we are the recipients of royal gifts,- heart, hand, and mind! The Hermit * * * While on my homeward way along a lonely mountain road, I chanced upon a little cot that stood amid a pine-wood lot; 'twos a hermit's quaint abode. The place was lone and drear,- the window and the door was shut; I saw the lonesome dweller move and weep, and shyly creep about, and peep from out the window of his hut. His step was slow, his mien was sere; upon his face was not a smile, but in his eye a tear! This wooded haunt, this form so gaunt, is all that is his own; the joy of life, the bliss of love he has for years not known. while the worm clasp of comradeships long since slipt his memory, and the velvety touch of children's lips, all from him have flown. Yet, he delights to live, aloof, alone; far from the fold of the sheltering clan. (He calls it the "fold of poor fool man"), But, why does he weep, and why is he under this ban? Ah, he weeps for social ignorance and for Sin, that is transciently entered in, that makes a knave and slave of man! Winter * * * I peep out of my house of clay upon the leaden day, in search of a hope for man! But alas, man's but a leaf,- his days so brief, are full of grief; so brief as a spider's span! All day long the snow's been falling; and now at eve, the merry flakes so soft 'n cold still whirl and twirl in playful mood, and clothe the earth with fold on fold. Nymph-like couriers of pure delight, driven to an' fro; purifying an' spreading a mantle of white,- tumbling, dancing, sporting as they go,- reminding us, lest we forget to love the Winter and the snow. How kind of Winter to blanket us with a spotless robe of silence! How wise of the frost thru the soil to creep, preparing the fields for planting! How noble of Nature to chant her cradle-song and sing her infant child asleep! Relaxation How pleasant is rest and the ev'ning best when the heart finds balm in quiet reflection. When the day has been calm, then rest seems twice-blest. O hallowed rest, becoming divinest when a vict'ry won with glad and firm endeavor; and a kindness done in dull and stormy weather, then rest seems loveliest. But say! when in the twilight's moody Stillness, we appraise terrestial treasures as we iinaer 'neath our vine-clad arbor and muse on life's manifold pleasures,- when serenity is our guest, oh then, rest is sublimest! * * * Freedom The only freedom which deserves the name. is that of pursuing our own good in our own way, so long as we do not attempt to deprive others of their freedom or impede their efforts to obtain it. Hospitality Here in this hospitable world let none be strangers; here, let all be welcomed, ev'ryone. Given heart to heart and hand to hand. Here, let seekers of the Light be one; congenial with those of Wry Land; one in freedom, hope, and truth,- one in labor, love, and song. Here, let all inhale a fuller, free-er breath; here, vast joys and wealth behold! Here let loves and labors blend, here in this world so old, yea ever so old! Here, let all accept, enjoy, spend,- laud, laugh, and pray, live, love and mind their own Here, let united toilers' banners be unfurled! Here, let all prepare to stay, - here, in this new old World! The End