Flares over the golden strand.

And I'll sing of the _men_ of the Homeland
From the north and east and west,
The men that go to the Homeland's call,
(Ah, God we have given our best!)
But not in vain are our heroes slain
If under the darkened skies,
All hand in hand from strand to strand
A sin-purged nation rise.

The Frozen Brook

The winter woods lie gray and still
Beneath the dreary sunless skies,
The brook that rippled down the hill
In summer hours, all silent lies.

And though its breast by ice is bound,
By bending low and listening long,
I hear a faint and far-off sound--
The echo of a summer song.

O weary heart, though cold and drear
The days along thy pathway seem,
To Nature's breast bend low thine ear
And listen to its pulsing stream.

The Indifferent Ones

Unmoved they sit by the stream of life
And its blood-red tide to the sea goes down,
While the hosts are borne through the surging strife
To a hero's death and a martyr's crown.

They pay no toll of their gold or blood;
For them 'tis a pageant and naught beside;
So they calmly dream by the reeking flood,
While the sun goes down in the crimson tide.

In a Forest

Silver birch and dusky pine,
Reaching up to find the light
From the forest's gloomy night,
From the thicket where entwine
Stunted shrub and creeping vine,
From the damp where witch-fire glows
And the poison fungus grows,
High you lift your heads, O trees,
To the kisses of the breeze,
To the far-off sapphire sky,
To the clouds that pass you by,
To the sun that shines on high.

From the dusk of earthly night
Strive, O soul, to reach the light.

The Ships of Memory

The silent ships of memory creep
Across the seas of long ago;
Like phantoms, on a tideless deep,
Their pale prows wander to and fro.

Some bear the dreams of happy years
Or bring a cargo all of gold;
Some bear a freight of useless tears,
For love and sorrow long untold.

And each man takes the proffered dower
For golden grain or bitter loss;
O, happy he that hath the power
To take the gold and leave the dross.

The Obelisk

(Place de la Concorde, Paris)

There rise the palace walls as fair to-day,
As when with arms and banners gleaming bright,
The pageantry of royal pomp and might
Passed through t