ld to come and claim
The World, since Light, God-bidden though it came,
Has failed to dawn upon our human ways?
O Twin of Chaos! peer thou through the haze!
'Tis Human Beings feed the crackling flame.

Beware, the smoke, like Etna's, is the curse
Of widows on thy people-dooming throne,
And in no country, more than in thine own,
Cry out all mothers: "Wherefore bear and nurse?
To feed war with our sons, our flesh and bone,
That chaos may reclaim the Universe?"

WOMAN, IN GERMANY

The German mother has too long been what
A Chancellor once called the "Kingdom's Cow."
Ah, as she bears the droves for slaughter, how
Her dumb-beast eyes crave pity for her lot!
See, there she smiles, like loving God forgot--
All His supernal patience on her brow.
How long must her grand arch of brain, as now,
Bear up a universe "of what should not"?

There, lies she, crushed by troops in hot pursuit
Of mocking shadows; for be Gain complete,
What is it but twin brother to defeat?
Stand up the dead on any bloody route.
Stoop for no kiss from orphans, at thy feet,
O Triumph! for ash-cord is all thy fruit.

O THOU PALE MOON

O fair, full moon! I look close at thy face.
Thou must be happy, being in the skys;
And, yet, thy flush grows pallor to mine eyes.
Thou art as one, who breathless after chase,
Would rest, but dreads to check her onward pace.
O fugitive from where no fledgling flies,
No bee finds bud, and where red billows rise,
Engulfing down dark years, the Human Race!

O thou pale moon, who hast companioned Man
Through every darkness since the night's first fall!
Hast thou, along thy foot-worn, azure wall,
Ever seen seas so hard for hope to span,
As this red surge, that in a spring so small,
A bird could beak it up, its flood began?

THE TIGER

How glares the tiger in his desert lair--
Now half the world! Beholding with dismay
That Human Freedom is the tiger's prey,
A giant, down whose shoulders, broad and bare,
The long, thick, crimson flow is Sampson's hair,
Makes haste to clutch the beast.
Oh, how the clay beneath their struggle, reddens, night and day,
Till lies the beast, a shapeless carcass there!

Oh! never from the long, thick crimson flow
A down thy shoulders from thy noble brow,
America, cam