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Full text of "New American Poetry Vol I"

CO > CO 

66955 



OUP 23-4-4-69 5,000. 

OSMANIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 

Call K*.Q1LO8//VS3 Accession No./>, 



Author 

; 



Title - -. 

This book should be returned on or before the date 
last marked below. 



NEW AMERICAN POETRY 



NEW 

AMERICAN 
POETRY 



VOLUME 
I 




NEW YORK: HARBINGER HOUSE 



Copyright, 1945, by HARBINGER HOUSE 



Printed in the United States of America 



TABLE OF CONTENTS 

TABLE OF CONTENTS FOR ALL THREE VOLUMES 

TEACHER'S LAMENT Alice Ann Abelove 9 

THE CHURCH BY THE WAYSIDE Dell K. Abraham 10 

INTERLUDE Doris Abramson 11 

ORIGINS Eugenia Adams 11 

FOR LOVE OF MANKIND Gerry Adams 12 

CONFESSIO GRATA Cora L. Adler 13 

LULLABY Maria Adolphus 14 

HEAVENLY COMFORT Mrs. Alfred Ahlberg 14 

SPRING SONG Patricia S. Albright 15 

THE PATIENT'S SONG Gladys Allen 16 

A MESSAGE FROM MARS Mabel G. Allen 16 

READY? Ruth Allen 17 

REMEMBER? John M. A Hera 18 

CONCHAS DAM Lillie Gerhardt Anderson 19 

KEEP THE CHILDREN HAPPY Martha Anderson 20 

A PATIENT'S PAIN Mary Helen Anderson 21 

REVANCHE May Anderson 21 

A MOTHER'S PETITION Grace McCullotigh Angell 22 

MY NEIGHBOR Mary M. Anson 22 

YOUR SON Mary Applegate 23 

RETURN TO EARTH Aloah L. Arancibia 23 

HOW ARE THE MIGHTY FALLEN Julia E. Arges 24 

MY DAD Ivadeane M. Armstrong 24 

THE CRUMB-TAKER Ethel Arnold 25 

BOSTON COMMON F. B. Arnold 25 

LEGEND OF POINT MUGU Gertrude Thomas Arnold 26 

SYMPATHETIC WATERS Melvin S. Ashwill 27 

ABIDING FAITH Evelyn Atkinson 28 

ON FRIENDSHIP Caroline Patience Augur 28 

AUTUMN FIRES Douglas Ayres, Jr. 29 

A WHIMSY F. V. B. 29 

LITTLE FISHERM'N Doris Jean Le<ivis Babka 30 

TO WALTER Marguerite Diggs Bagby ' 30 

THE UNATTAINABLE Anne Howard Bailey 31 

TO FRANCE Bette Bailey 31 

THE MOUNTAIN Fiske Bailey 32 

THE COUNTRY CHURCHES Roscoe J. Bailey 32 

THE NATIVE RETURNS Joseph H. Bair 33 

FAITH Elmira Evans Baker 36 

FLOWERS IN THE HOSPITAL Belva L. Ball 37 

GHOST TOWN Agnes W. Ballard 37 

PURSES Lynne Williams Ballard 38 

WE MUST GO ON Sue Ella Baillenger 38 

REMEMBER WOODROW WILSON Bertha M. Banton 39 

ACROSTIC Daisie Barclay 40 

TIME WAS Irma L. Barnard 40 

RECIPE FOR A ROMANCE COCKTAIL Ethel Thorne Barnes 41 

PEACE Frances Brooks Barnes 42 

REVELATION Audrey Jane Barrett 42 



THE GUARDIAN Josephine C. Barton 43 

MY CREED Zoe E. Bashime 43 

THRASHING Donald R. Bashore 43 

SALUTATION Miller C. Easnight 44 

BLACK MAN Margaret Baumez 45 

GOD AND A GARDEN May Beahm 46 
PEACE ON EARTH TO MEN OF GOOD WILL Eila Hancock Sealer 46 
ON BEING AWAKENED FROM EDNA ST. VINCENT M1LLAY 

William Beaumont 47 

I LOVE YOU SO Mildred Beeler 47 

THE EMPTY HEART Helen Beerline 48 

DEMOCRACY Mary Beier 48 

ON OBSERVING AN UNUSUAL CHILD Doris P. Bell 49 

TILL ONE Margaret E. Bengston 49 

GREAT IS YOUR REWARD Ruth Bensel 50 

SACRED SCULPTURE Zylpha Attrition Berlier 51 

THE SPIRIT AND THE FLESH Robert A. Bernard 51 

SKY MAGIC Bertha Berry 53 

ETERNAL BLISS Mrs. Marion R. Berry 54 

ILLUSION Stephen Blackhurst 54 

LIFE'S GARDEN Vivian Ever hart Blain 55 

MY TRYST // r . A. Blankenhorn 55 

FAITH Marie Blechert 56 

THRENODE Honor a Mary Bibaud 56 

MAN Amelia Strfano Biddle 57 

GOODNESS? Anita Biclnum 57 

A DRIFTING THOUGHT Milton Biersc/nrale 58 

THUMBS UP Jeanne Biaham 58 

BLOSSOM TIME IN CALIFORNIA Rickard Carlyle Bimson 59 

MOTHER Vcra Binford 59 

CREDO Vincent J. Biondo 60 

A MILLION MILLION Dot Prinale Birkinbine 61 

IF I COULD DIE FOR JUST A DAY OR TWO Ann Bishop 61 

HEART SEASONS Francis Herbert Bishop 62 

A NIGHT NURSE'S PRAYER Ina E. Blevins 63 

TRAVELLING HOME Mary Boatman 63 

MORNING PRAYER Dorothy M. Boelter 64 

DRIFTING Mae Ella Faulks Boles 65 

EVENING SYMPHONY June Bolmeier 65 

DREAM SAILING Leah Bordner 66 

RECONNAISSANCE Idena Walstad Borgeson 66 

DECEMBER Luman R. B owlish 67 

THE MAGIC TOUCH Miriam Bowman 67 

A SONGSTRESS SANG Esther Boyce 67 

PEACE Mary Benander Boyles 68 

FAREWELL FROM BATAAN Revel a C. Bozman 69 

A PRAYER FOR TEACHERS Rev. A. E. Bradow 69 

REMEMBER PEARL HARBOR Cora Rhode Brady 70 

A SUCCESS? Lydia Acree Brandon 70 

DARK WANDERING Ruth Brandon 71 

THE TRUANT Tommie Brannick 72 

REST Julia Brashear 72 

PRELUDE IN C-SHARP MINOR Evelyn Wynn Brehm 73 

SPRING IS HERE Hazel G. Stagg Bremm 73 

FORTITUDE Helen Marie Brennan 74 

REPRESSION Elizabeth Bryan Brewer 75 



GOD BLESS CHRISTMAS Mildred Brickell 75 

THE GREAT ARTIST Cula Brickey 76 

I WAS ONCE A WEARY PILGRIM Mary Bridgers 77 

MEMORY Anne S. Brigham 78 

EMPTY PRAYER Constance Starr Brock 79 

A GHOST STORY Alice Dennis Brockley 79 

AUTUMN REVERIE Bubbles Brown 80 

MY DREAM Florence Reed Brown 81 

BLUE HERONS' Gaye Brown 82 

STALINGRAD Jerome King Brown 82 

LESSONS FROM LIFE Ma\ud Montgomery Brown 83 

WHO COULD KNOW Mary John Brown 83 

I PRAYED R. Vernon Brown 84 

MY LAMP Stella Clark Brown 84 

DEFINITION Philip L. Browne 85 

ILLUSION AT SUNRISE Anne Dodson Buck 86 

SWAN SONG Vera Caldwell Bufkin 86 

AFTERTHOUGHTS Lois Burch 87 

PUSSY-WILLOWS Ina Flossie Burdett 88 

CONFESSIONS Mildred Bennett Burlew 89 

PORGY AND BESS Louise K. Burpee 90 

MY HERITAGE Zelma E. Burris 91 

SKILLFUL HANDS Mayre Daly Busick 92 

TO T, Augusta Foster Butler 93 

LIFE Charles Redden Butler, Jr. 93 

BOOKS Marie M. Butler 94 

MUSIC Ruth Ann Buttler 94 

WEIRD ISLE Roy A. Byerley, Sr. 95 

THE TENTH BEATITUDE Ruby Bryan Byerley 96 

LA MUSIQUE Richard Harding Byrd 96 

POSSIBILITIES Mary Cain 97 

ECSTASY Pearl Corey 98 

IF FOR SICK NURSES Margaret Vickrey Carlson 99 

TWO PATHS Mr. Rex Carr ' 100 

THERE SHALL BE A LIGHT Dorothy C. Carrier 101 

THIS TOO SHALL PASS AWAY Doris Carrington 102 

GOD'S HAND Lucille Juanita Carroll 103 

THE BROKEN CHAIN Mary E. Carroll 103 

KWAN-YIN Dorothy C artier 104 

HILLS AWAY Manfred A. Carter 104 

STARDUST Susan E. Carter 105 

SIMPLJCITY Rosalind Kirkfiatriik Cassidy 105 

DARK HOURS Stanley Cast 106 

NIGHT THOUGHTS AND MEMORIES B. Elisabeth Cavan 106 

IT HAS BEEN NICE Thomas A. Chadsey 107 

THE PAINTER Alice J. Chafiee 108 

OUR FLAG Margaret Chambers 109 

EMPIRE Naomi Chappell 110 

THE ROSE Leroy Charles 110 

FUTILITY Mary E. Chedister 111 

AMBITION Mary Vida Cheek 111 

THIS IS WEALTH Jessie Ann Cheffey 111 
PRAYER FOR THE FIGHTING MEN Frances Barbara Cherelli 112 
ROCKED IN THE CRADLE OF THE WEST Alia Brown Chittcnden 113 

THE NORTHER Charlotte Chittick 113 

REFLECTIONS Clara Birgitte Christensen 114 



DREAM LADY Zoe Branegan Christin 114 

A PORTRAIT Willa Daisy Christy 115 

OLD SANTA FE B. F. Clark 115 

A CHRISTMAS SON'G Minnie Mason Claybaugh 116 

GIVING Norman Clayton 117 

LOST DESIRES Donna Clem 117 

TWO-POINT RATIONING //. M. Clements 118 

GOD WOULD SMILE Mangaaret E. Cochran 119 

PHANTOM COMPANION Belle Coder 120 

YOU Lena Cohen 120 

AFTERWARDS Dorothea E. Coleman 121 

TAD Lorraine E. Collins 122 

TO A SINGING STAR Enangelinc Colwell 122 

FIRE PICTURES Norine B. Connelly 122 
THE WHITE PARADE GOES MARCHING ON 

Barbara Hope Conway 123 

IF I GO Rachel Conrad 123 

FIRE Violette Inez Cook 124 

DOWN BY MATAGORDA BAY Julia Cooper 125 

HANDS IN THE DARK Alwyn Coristine 125 

COMPENSATION Viola C. Corley 126 

TRIBUTE TO POLAND Viola Cory 126 

LONGING Catherine L. Cowles 127 

COUNT NOT YOUR DEAD //. Theodore Cox 127 

THE FLOOD Naomi Digman Cox 128 

FLORENCE NIGHTINGALES Vivian Pope Coy 128 

TWILIGHT AND YOU Dollie Benton Craig 129 

KING OF SPACE Bernice Crawford 129 

MY DIAMOND Myrtle Brodie Crawford 130 

SYMPHONY OF THE SEASONS Annie Lee Smith Groom 131 

INSIDE OUR OLD BARN DOOR Eleanor G. Crum 131 

A QUESTION Nannie Mae Cruse 133 

PRAYER Warren A. Gulp 133 

I SAW DEATH Eva Bell Cummings 134 

ROASTING EARS J. B. Cummins 135 

PRAYER Arnold Curry 136 

HIDDEN PLACES Bronston Loving Curry 137 

THE PLAIN SEWER OF WORDS Doris II. dishing 137 

THERE WILL BE OTHER SPRINGS Pauline Culler 138 

MANHATTAN Edna Daniel 138 

SANDS Ruth Lemack Daniels 139 

CREATION Mary Louise Dargan 139 

APRIL IN THE WOODS Mary Kathleen Darnall 140 

PRAYER N ore en I. Davey 140 

PRAYER Etta Davidorf 141 

VALENTINES Evah Boon* Davis 141 

MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED Grace Violett Davis 142 

CHARACTER Jean Davis 142 

THE MOON'S BLACKOUT Susannah Dawon 142 

NIRVANA Fanny P. Day 143 

MY AUTUMN SONG Louise Eleanor Denkelberg 144 

FROM A HOSPITAL WINDOW Mabel F. Dennett 144 

THOUGHTS ON EVENING Jeanette Derickson 145 

FIRST BEAU Era C. De Shazo 145 

MY IRISH PRINCE Jane De Walt 146 

MAY Edna Lovett Dewberry 147 



EVENTIDE Anna Mary Dickson 147 

HARVEST Maria Messuri Di Valentin 148 

NORTHERN LIGHTS Eleanor Conley Dixon 148 

A COLLEGE YEARBOOK Maloise Sturdevant Dixon U9 

WHITE ASHES Ruth Dodge 150 

FOR A. W. Phyllis L. Doe 151 

IN THE GARDEN OF HEAVEN Myrtle Vest Donnohue 152 

MY REVERIE Margaret Donovan 152 

PEACEFUL VALLEY J. R. Dooley, Jr. 153 

TO JANE Hildegarde Dorman 1*4 

TRUE ART Gladys E. Douglas 154 

HANDKERCHIEF HEART Diana Doyle 154 

AGAIN COME SPRING Lucy Duke 15s 

ADVICE D. D. Dunann 155 

CHRISTMAS C. Blanche Duncan 156 

LINCOLN Samuel Dunievitz 156 

OUR FLAG Alia H. Dunlap 158 

NOCTURNE G oldie Beard Dunlap 158 

A TEACHER'S PRAYER Isabelle M. Dunn 159 

REVERENCE Jcanette Dissmeyer Dunk 159 

MY TWO DREAMS Vicki Durand 160 
HAVE YOU WALKED WITH THE KING? Muriel E. Dyhrman 160 

TREES OF THE RIVERSHORE Mary Dysart 161 

A PRAYER Mary McCoy Eberhart 162 

TO A ROSE Anne Eichhorn 163 

A SNOWY EVENING Lucile Eldridge 163 

AUGUST 1941 William Eldridge 164 

MEMORIES OF THE SEA Louise Ellis 165 

MEMORIES Betty Marie Ellis 166 

A NURSE'S TASK Winifred Ellis 166 

POWER OF THOUGHT Elizabeth 167 

SUNSET Ruby Ener 167 

MY TRUST Geneva Eppes 168 

WHOSE FAULT Anna Mae Erdmann 169 

REVERIE AT EVENTIDE Christel M. Erdmann 170 

CALL OF PEACE Bess Gratz Erickson 170 

CLIMBING Beatarice Griffin Esborg 171 

TO A YOUNG MOTHER Sister Mary Estelle, O.P. 172 

ENGLAND IN SEPTEMBER Patricia Ely Fallon 172 

SILENT SERMON Del Fambrough 173 

ALL FOUR Rita Fanelli 173 

SCENES Ruth Farley 174 

AUTUMN BEAUTY Flora Farnsworth 174 

INCONSTANCY Ray McConnell Faught 175 

FINIS CORONATOPUS Olive J. Faulkner 176 

CULTURE Harry James Fazzina 176 

THEY SLEEP Mary G. Ferguson 177 

A RENDEZVOUS WITH LIFE Ben Field 178 

THE BIRDS WILL SING Lydia Fisher 178 

JUST YOU Mary W. Fisher 179 

BALM FROM MY GARDEN Anna L. Fitten 179 

OCTOBER Annis Fletcher 180 

HOME Margaret Reed Florey 181 

SONNET Dorothy Sweet Forman 181 

WORLD WAR II Mabel Fosler 182 

BURNING PASSION Letty Friedlander 182 



SUNSET Loisclaire Friedman 183 

WE WHO LOVED THE SEA Addle Funderburke 183 

THE MOUNT Audrey Gann 184 

THIS: FAITH Eddie Gaona 185 

LISTEN TO ME Lytt I. Gardner 185 

A PUNCHER CHOOSES Beula M. Garland 186 

NEW YORK Harriet Garrett 187 

LEGACY Ruth Ives Garrett 187 

OLD WYOMING Alice M. Gates 188 

SONG OF THE BROOK Helen M. Gates 1SS 

TO JEAN Irene E. Gates 189 

YOU ARE MY MUSE John Stuart Gates 190 

FAITH Susan Ruth George 191 

AMERICAN SOLDIERS AT WAR Carl Gustav Georgi 192 

THE SEASON'S ENDED Katt/ierine Gerdes 193 

DEATH Beltie Geren 194 

THE IMPONDERABLE George F. Getty 194 

EASTER MORN Mae Gibbs 195 

A STORY AT TWILIGHT Ela Mays Gill 195 

SATISFIED Burl H. G ilium 196 

PUSH BACK THE NIGHT Genevie Goff 197 

GRACE Daisy Marie Golden 198 

INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OF LINCOLN Estella Goldsmith 199 

WILLIE'S DREAM Luiy Goodenough 199 

THE ARMY NURSE Daisy Salome Graves 200 

WHEN PEOPLE SAY Victoria L. Graves 201 

DREAMS I'erena C. Gray 201 

A TEACHER'S LAMENT Lulu Lee Greene 202 

CONFLICT Maud Greenwood 203 

WHY LOVE? Rita Grey 204 

NIGHT BEAUTY Imogene Griffin 204 

HE RESTORETH MY SOUL Enid S. Griffith 205 

FACE EAST Dorothy R. Grigg 206 

SUNDAY FISHING E. J, Grigsby 206 

LET THE VOICE OF FREEDOM RING Leota Grigsby 207 

PERMANENCY Presley M. Grise 207 

MYSTERY Helen McCurdy Grommon 208 

ALL HAS BEEN SAID Mollie A. Gross 208 

I HAVE HEARD Marion Grove 209 

ALL GONE Florence C. Grubb 210 

THE FROSTED ASPENS Mary Allen Guslavson 210 

CRUSADE Wanda D. Haesener 211 

WIND WHISPERS Helen A. Hagen 211 

BEAUTY J. lleisler Hagge 212 

ADORATION Laura M. Haldeman 213 

MORNING SERVICE Belva Hunter Hall 213 

OUR STARS AND STRIPES Florence E. Hail 214 

THE MOUNTAINS Lawrence W. Hall 214 

OUR LOVE Anita Hal pern 215 

SIGNS OF SPRING Addle Cook Halter 215 

LIGHTS AND SHADOWS Vernon John Hamilton 216 

THE HEAVENS ARE OURS Rita Hammel 217 

DUST Verna E. Hancock 217 

CONSOLE Gladys L. Hanford 213 

EVENING PRAYER Lily Hanson 219 

A REVERIE Gladys Hardeman 219 



A SOLDIER TO HIS WIFE Robert A. Harding 220 

FREEDOM'S VOICE //. Claude Hardy 221 

A SOLDIER SPEAKS Maude Harget 222 

A NURSE'S HANDS Billy Harman 223 

THE GRAND CANYON Grace Parsons Harmon 223 

WIND AT NIGHT Mabry Harper 224 

DEFENSE WORK Doris M. Harpham 224 

A BELGIAN PRAYER Abigail Harriman 225 

THE WIND IN THE PINES Irene Lucilc Harrington 226 
ON THE PORTRAIT OF MY MOTHER AT THE AGE OF 

SEVENTEEN Alice Clarke Harris 226 

TO LILLIAN WALD Lillian Harris 227 

SONNET TO YOUTH Willie Viola Harris 227 

SPRING Charles Franklin Harrison 227 

THE HEROIC DEATH OF PRIVATE VAN NOY Mark Hart 228 

LOVE'S VAGARIES Eleanor Margaret Hartney 231 

THE END OF DAY Georgia Hatch 232 

AFTER A SNOW STORM Alice E. llauscr 232 

DRUMS Mary Ellen Haw 233 

SUCH A LITTLE BOY! Norma Fuller Hawkins 234 

WAVES Ann II ay den 235 

SONNET TO A SOUTHERN LAD Jeanette Heard 235 

MY PRAYER Viola lleaton 236 

WONDERING Heral G. Hedgcock 236 

TO JOHN Helen Heller 237 

REPRIEVE Julie Lucas Henderson 238 

A MEMORIAL DAY PRAYER Edmond L. Hennig 238 

THE REST IS SILENCE Gloria D. Herres 239 

END OF SUMMER Betty K. Herrington 239 

CHALLENGE Ruth Hershey 240 

COURAGE Jessie Carter Hestir 241 

THE WATER OF LIFE Katie M. Hibbs 241 

TOTAL ECLIPSE Mar ye C. Hicks 242 

MOTHER'S MEMORIES Isabel Cole Highfield 24J 

TRAGEDY Evelyn B. Hill 243 

FINALITY LaA Woolsey Hill 243 

A TEACHER'S PRAYER Clayton II. Hinkel 244 

GOD'S TOMORROW T. S. Hitchcock 245 

RECESSIONAL Elizabeth Hoard 246 

LOUD-SPEAKER y aline Hobbs 246 

PARENTAL LOVE Lewis Ilobson 247 

AUTUMN MAGIC Ann Lindsay Hodges 247 

RAIN AT NIGHT Halite M. Hoffman 248 

COMMON SONG Lillian Audrey Hosrner 248 

PRETTY WHITE BUTTERFLY Minnie McD. Hollistcr 249 

EVENTIDE Bess Poynter Holmes 249 

SERMONS EVERYWHERE George A. Holt 250 

THE ROAD THAT LED HOME Laura Holt 251 

STILL RINGS FOR LIBERTY Noah C. Holt 252 

LOVE DYING Frances Margarett Hood 253 

THE BACHELOR'S REVERIE John Howard Hoon 253 

IN HIS HANDS Stella Hoover 254 

MY KNIGHT Katherine E. V. Hope 254 

THE GOOD SHIP ZACA Louise Gertrude Hope 255 

THE MISSOURI Gunnar Horn 256 

THE BEAUTIFUL OJAI VALLEY Marguerite Horn 256 



MY SOLACE Madelene Manfred * 3g 

A QUERY Jane Miller Manning , 19 

REVERIE OF SPRING Marie Richardson Manzo *** 

NOTES Hans Margolius _ 

SURVIVAL Stella T. Marsh . . 

WINTER IN WISCONSIN Marcelle Martini ^ 
THE LEGEND OF THE CHRYSANTHEMUM Etta Asenath Mason 342 

BRIDE OF THE SEA Harriet Mabel Mason 343 

OFF TO THE WAR Jane G. Masters 345 

EIRE Sister Maura 346 

TO WOODROW WILSON John A. May 349 

AUTUMN Isabel Eln Mayer 349 

GOD TAUGHT ME TO PRAY Bonnie McCall 350 

HAPPINESS Bessie McCloud 351 

FIRE Miriam Thomas McCrary 352 

FLIGHT INTO DARK Elaine Pierce McCrdess 353 

APRIL'S DEATH IN THE ORCHARD Rosemary McCue 353 

NO PANACEA Barbara McGiffert 354 

BLACKFORK Audrey Will Mclntire 354 

METHODS AND PROCEDURES Mar go McKay 354 

ONLY A STEP TO GLORY Nellie Elnora Wills McKean 355 

THE ETERNAL CLOCK Maybelle McKervey 355 

SAILOR'S LULLABY Betty Mariam Mclaughlin 356 

TOE PARABLE OF THE PINE Charles E. McLean 357 

CONFLAGRATION Edna Tidmore McMath 358 

SPIRIT OF AMERICA Mrs. Ewing McMichael 358 

GIVE ME HEAVENLY LOVE Mrs. Amanda ffoff McMillan 359 

U. S. RIBBONS IN THE SKY Marion Campau McNeil 360 

AUTU(MN Florence M> Mead 361 

IN MEASURED TREAD Leroy Burke Meagker 361 

CROIX DE GUERRE Catherine Meersman 361 

ELEGY Nell Vaughan Mellichamp 362 

SECOND CHOICE Arthur S. Mellinger 362 

SIGNS' OF SPRING Katherme Messer 363 

SAH-AH Margaret G.. Mielkc 364 

THE WORLD'S NEEDS Rev. J. F. Minry 364 

A PETITION Evelyn Lucille Mlodzik 365 

NELLIE AND HER BEAU Dorothy Lucille Molter 365 

IN MEMORY OF A NUN Rose Dorothy Monahan 367 

SAFE IN MY HEART Genevieve Langley Monigold 367 

TESTAMENT OF FAITH P. Ellsworth Moor 368 

SECURITY Maude II. Moore 369 

FINIS Morris E. Moore 370 

THREE Ruth Mary Moore 370 

GAIN AND LOSS VernMoorc 371 

ARMISTICE 1941 Bernice Morgan 371 

SPRING COMES LIKE THIS Iris Morris 372 
IF I MAY NE'ER BEHOLD THE TENDER NIGHT 

Alvarita Aishe Morrow 373 

EDUCATION Frances Marie Morrow 373 

A TINY CLOUD Geneva Brown Morrow 374 

SCHOOL DAYS Harlo<we Belle Morrow 375 

TO A FRIEND'S NEW HOME Grace B. Mortensen 375 

A DAY Ivah Holmes Mott 376 

LOVE'S GETHSEMANE Kay Morton 376 

SPRING OF ELOQUENCE Rose M. Mucklcy 377 



THE ROAD TO LAMBERHURST Vista R. Mueldener 377 

ARBOR DAY "IF" Mary Mullen 378 

THE THISTLE Jessie Z. Murphy 379 

GOD'S JEWELRY Virginia Pric/iard Murphy 379 

A CAR Marjorie Murray 380 

SPRING CLEANING Christine Murrell 380 

AMERICA CALLS Edythe Myers 381 

HACIENDA NIGHT Lester Nagel 382 

DUST Emma C. Nagle 382 

AN OPEN LETTER Clara Brodskaya Natanson 383 

BEAUTY Winifred A. Naylor 384 

BOLERO Ann Nelson 384 

CITY STREETS Elva L. Nelson 385 

THE DEATH OF THE SWANS Floyd E. Nelson, Sr. 385 

SKY VOICES SPEAK Jeanne S. Nelson 386 

GROWTH OF LOVE Modcna Nelson 387 

I AM MAN Roland //. Nelson 387 

THE BREAK UP Viola Seeberger Nelson 391 

THE DANCERS Archie P. Nevins 392 

OUR STANDARD Mary K. G. Newton 392 

UNTIL Faye Newkirk 393 

DARKNESS Anna King Nichols 394 

VERGIL Cora Edella Nichols 394 

POTTERS ALL Ninabelle Hurst Nichols 394 

SONG TO A SKEPTIC Arlene Nila 395 

THE TEACHER'S JUDGMENT DAY Anna M. Nil and 396 
TEXAS WEATHER'S LIKE A WOMAN'S MIND George F. Nonis 397 

LIDICE WHICH DIED Martha M. Novak 397 

WORSHIP Anna Ruth Nuttall 398 

SIGHT Laverne M. Odencrans 398 

SILENCE Ella Christina Odien 399 

LAO-TZE AND WORDSWORTH Harold Grant Ogden 399 

VICTORY Frances Ruth O'Hara 401 

MEXICANO COL' A. Rikhart Oja 401 

TILL I MET YOU Margaret M. O'Keefe 403 

THE ROCK Edna Gertrude Olds 403 

THE CREATOR Mamie H. O'Neal 404 

CHRISTMAS 1942 Helen Spicer Orth 404 

SONNET ON A NOVEMBER MORNING Kathleen O'Shra 404 

THE WATERFALL Ledare Overbay 405 

SUNRISE SERENADE John A. Owen, Jr. 405 

TO DULCINEA VALDEZ Margaret Packard 406 

SMALL THINGS Gertrude Cook Page 407 

THE ALAMO Mrs. W. P. Palm 407 

ALONE Helen Parker 408 

THE DARKIES' PLEA Sally A. Parker 408 

ON CHRISTMAS EVE F. E. Parks 409 

ADRIFT Virginia Harry Parshall 409 

TO A DICTATOR Sidney Parrish 410 

STOWAWAY LaDean Parry 411 

REVERIES OF AN OLD SCOT Charles Paterson 412 

VAGABONDS Jean McDonald Paterson 413 

REVEALED Rose B. Pathmann 414 

STAR OF FAITH Bertha Mahan Patt 415 

THE COLUMBIA HIGHWAY Leah Patterson 415 

LAY OF THE LOST COLONY Nellie Miles Paul 416 



VITA Sadie Imogene Paullus 418 

BLUEBONNETS Dora Elizabeth Peach 419 

DESTINY Agnes Peele 419 

DREAM PINES Margaret Pegg 420 

MY EXPERIENCE Mrs. Catherine Penrod 420 

TRANSITION Doris J. Pepper 420 

I WILL STILL BELIEVE Florida Perkins 421 

1 HOLD THE EARTH Jesse L. Perro 422 

YUCCA Alice Persing 423 

ROMANCE? Hildegard Peters 423 

TO A VERY SICK PATIENT Kathryn Lee Peters 424 

SOLDIER'S PRAYER Dixon J. Peterson 425 

TIME'S FEAST A. J. Petti 425 

AUTUMN'S PLIGHT Gloria Patricia Pierce 426 
BEAUTY BLOOMS WHEN WE ARE GONE Marjorie Elide Pierce 426 

OPEN LETTER Ruth Arundel Piercy 427 

THESE ARE THE THINGS I LOVE Zelda M. Pineau 427 

THE BLACKOUT Margaret M. Pitblado 428 

TITIAN'S "MAN WITH THE FLUTE" Dora H. Pitts 429 

THE END OF A RAINDROP Marjorie Plott 429 

RAINBOW 'ROUND THE MOON Dorothy F. Plumb 430 

COMMERCE Elwa A. B. Policy 431 

SOUL HARBOR Martha Porteus 431 

DUNES ACRES Esther McGlenny Powell 432 

MR. SURELYWE'RERELATED James E. Powell 432 

HERITAGE Pansy e H. Powell 433 

A CHRISTMAS REVERIE Henry Field Pratt 434 

WILD GEESE Florence L. Preuss 434 

PROOF Myrtle Springer Pritchett 435 

THE OLD HOME Josephine Prochazka 436 

AMERICA Helen A. Pruce 437 

PREJUDICE Harriet F. Purdy 437 

OUR LOVE Laura May Purves 438 

PAGAN WORSHIP Doris Joe Pyle 439 

SUBWAY ESCALAOTOR Mariolyn Quast 439 

A CHALLENGE Melicent B. Quinn 440 

FLIGHT M<attie Pearl Raby 440 

RAIN Jane Summer Ragland 441 

MOON DREAMS Juanita Randall 441 

JUST MEMORIES Bessie C. Rasmussen 442 

REGRET Nina Rank 443 

JOY OF LIVING Valeta Raye 443 

THE VOICE IN THE TWILIGHT Jewell Lee Reams 444 

COMPLETENESS Edna Reed 445 

TO NIGHT William Calvin Reeves 445 

GIFTS OF THE GODS Alice J. Reid 446 

DEFERRED Elizabeth Colston Reid 447 

THE BELLES Myron L. Reis 448 

WHEN MY BOAT COMES IN Mrs. Louise Dambach Reniz 449 

THE BIG BEND Anna Reseburg 450 

WIND IN JANUARY Amelia Restaine 451 

DEATH Betty Jean Reuthinger 451 

THE TRAINED NURSE Kathryn M. Reynolds 452 

RECLUSE Lillian Rhodes 453 

ONE KING Carren Rhue 454 

A CHURCH DEDICATION Grace Final Rich 454 



WIND-FALL IN SPRING Elizabeth Anne Richardson 455 

NATURE'S GIFT Forrest Richardson 455 

CONDITIONAL Gertrude H. Rideout 456 

SIGNS Harriet Daughtry Riley 456 

SUNSET Evelyn Ritchie 457 

YOU Helen M. Ritger 457 

VOICES IN THE NIGHT /////> Roberson 458 

TO DECEMBER Ruth Ellis Roberts 458 

THE MEANEST FLOWER W. D. Roberts 459 

THE COUNTY FAIR Kathryn J. Robertson 459 

ROSEMARY Audrey Robeson 460 

THE HANDS OF LINCOLN Gertrude M. Robinson 460 

MIDNIGHT SAIL Barbara Ellen Rogers 461 

SILENT COURIERS E. G. Rogers 462 

BEVERLY DEANE Ola Kennedy Rogers 462 

LOVE'S TRIBUTE Lillie Bender Rooney 463 

THE SHASTA DOVE'S ABODE W. Darwin Root 463 

A SOLDIER SPEAKS Grace Rose 464 

A TEACHER RETIRES Betty Jo Roter 465 

A SONG Tkelma Ruth Rouse 466 

THE TEACHER Charles B. Rousseve 466 

DREAMS Ruth Sara Routh 467 

THE ORGAN Clyde Ruffin 467 

CHRIST THE BURDEN BEARER Maude C. Rulatui 469 

CALM AND CONFIDENT Rev. Hoover Rupert 469 

MOTHER Annie Acheson Russell 469 

CONSIDER THE HUMBLE POT W. Hardwick Ruth 470 
ON FINDING MYSELF IN CHURCH AT SUNSET Grace Sandstrom 470 

GOD PAINTED A SUNRISE FOR ME Ethel M. Saupe 471 

MARKHAM Fred W. Schaefle 471 

NIGHT RAID John M. Schealer 473 

IF LOVE MUST DIE Ina House Scharjenberg 472 

THE POETRY OF THE EAST RIVER Louise M. Schaub 472 

NIGHT RAID Jo/eon M. Schealer 473 

MIST Russell F. Schleicher 474 

OLD AND NEW CHINA Frieda Louise Schwcikart 474 

ENVOI Dorothy Claus Scott 475 

TO MY SON Karen Scott 475 

A HERON IN THE MARSH Marion G. Scott 476 

INFANT WARD Clara Elizabeth Scully 477 

CABIN IN THE WOODS Ellen Seipel 477 

WAR Hedi Seligsohn 478 

ELEMENTAL Jeanne Severance 479 
THE STATELY OLD COTTONWOOD TREE Beryl Ann Severin 480 

CONFITABOR TIBI Prof. E. M. C. Shafer 481 

TRUTH Grant Sharman 481 

EVALUATION Lynn Sharp 482 

A SUMMER MESSAGE Suan Shell 482 

MY FRIEND Verna Ferguson Shelton 483 

RESOLUTION Katherine Lounberg Shepard 483 

WHERE LOVE IS Madeline Sherman 484 

THE PORCUPINE /. B. Shields 484 

NEW YEAR Ivy Riggs Shinn 485 

SNOWFALL Adele Shirk 486 

THAT'S ILLINOIS Margaret Shirley 486 



SURREALISM Lea Short 4 ** 

YOUR ALBUM Mary Shubert 488 

WHENCE COMES PEACE? Eugene Singer 488 

MIRAGE Joan Slemp 489 

A ROSE IS BORN Katherine M. Slemp 489 

AN OLD TIME MELODY Gertrude Sloate 489 

IN TUNE Aldene Wilson Smith 490 

CUP OF REMEMBRANCE Alex W. Smith 491 

ADRIFT Mrs. Annie L. Smith 491 

WORD PICTURES' Bessie B. Smith 492 

PRAYER FOR A SEPTEMBER MORNING Elma Smith 492 

MY LOVE Frances M. Smith 493 

LOVE IS A MYTH Gwyndolyn Smith 493 

A REVELATION /. Elgar Smith 494 

HOSPITAL GARMENTS J. Winifred Smith 495 

ETERNAL VISION Lolet Smith 495 

THE FOLK WHO NEVER DREAM Mae Bothwcll Smith 496 

SPRING Ralph C. Smith 496 

DECOYS Stelle Samuel Smith 497 

FRIENDS Etta Hart Smithey 499 

FALL GENTLY, RAIN Ellen Marie Suavely 499 

WEST INDIES Beatrice Snider 499 

MY CATHEDRAL IN THE WOOD Zoa French Snider 500 

STARS Elma L. Snyder 501 

CAPRICIOUS SPRING Lulu C. Snyder 502 

LIFE STOLE MY GOLDEN SHIELDS Sydney Scout Sorcnsen 502 

THESE THINGS Audrey E. Southern 503 

SONNET Leona Spain 503 

MY RAINBOW Paula Spare 504 

MY PRAYER Hortense Spears 504 

HEMP Emma Speed 505 

A PRAYER Alpkaretta Speer 505 

TWILIGHT Rose Lee Spencc 506 

AUTUMN Edna C. Spencer 506 

LISTENING WITH BEETHOVEN Jane E. Spencer 507 

WHICH ARE YOU Sadie B. Spillman 508 

SPRING Leona Spitz 509 

MEDITATIONS Horace A. Sprague 510 

TWILIGHT Martha Stennis Sprouse 511 

LENTEN MEDITATION Henrietta E. Staege 512 

AMERICA MUST LIVE Mary Harriet Staege 512 

A MIGHTY HOST Fred Stanley 513 

PRAYER FOR YOUTH Marianna Johnson Stanley 514 

BLOW THOSE SIRENS Sarah Starikov 514 

SOLILOQUY Emily Stebe* 515 

LEAVES Arvel Steece 516 

A JUDEAN PICTURE Pearl Hubb ard Steel 516 

AUTUMN Toni Steffens 517 

THE NATIONS' PRAYER Lulu K. Stegall 518 

A MEMORY Margaret Steinmetz 518 

TO PETRA'S LEMON PIE Jessie Ellen Stephens 518 

THE SURF Eva Stephenson 519 

A MOUNTAIN STREAM Marion Stephenson 519 

SATISFACTION Sarah Duff Steptoe 520 

SANCTUARY Mary B. Stevenson 520 



CATHEDRAL WINDOW Marion Carr Stewart 521 

THE NURSE Vera B. Stewart 521 

IN THE WOODS Paul B. Stilson 522 

THE QUEST Mary I. Stirling 523 

THE COAST COUNTRY Cola Heckel Stogncr 524 

JUST WONDERING Ann Stokely ^24 

IS THIS OUR AMERICA? Rebecca Mitchell Stokes 525 

MAY I NEVER GROW INDIFFERENT James Lloyd Stone 526 

SUSTENANCE Elizabeth Stopple 526 

MATER CHRISTI Jean M. Story 527 

LIGHTED WINDOWS Ima D. Stotler 528 

SPIRIT MAGNIFICENT Ribero Willey Strauss 528 

EXTRA-CURRICULAR Louise Street 530 

JESUS AND THE RICH YOUNG MAN Lila Poos Strong 531 

POSTHUMOUSLY AWARDED Jane Stroup 532 

TO A WATERFALL Joy Stubbs 533 

LAMENT ON SPRING Elizabeth Buxton Styron 533 

THE ABANDONED CHURCH Mrs. Laura Sumrall 534 

ENCHANTMENT lone D. Swan 534 

AT THE SHORE Ruth Hannah Sweet 535 

I HAVE NO RIGHT Mrs. Eva Rebecca Sykes 535 

DEATH Lorrine N. Taglio 536 

THESE PASSING BY Gertrude Goss Tappan 536 

THE RIVER, TIME Harriett C. Taylor 537 

AUTUMN Lowell A. Taylor 53X 

A DREAM Evria Tefft 538 

THAT PROFESSIONAL SMILE Laura Belle Tetz 539 

WILMINGTON Cornelius Thomas 539 

THIS DAY Esther Kern Thomas 540 

THE TRAVELERS Mary E. Thomas 541 

MOUNTAIN FLOWERS Rebecca Thomas 54? 

WAR L. L. Thompson 542 

1942 NURSES CREED Mary Ellen Thompson 543 

WAR Mary Wright Thrasher 544 

ABOUT TREES Josephine DeGolyer Tinker 544 

QUEST Lillian A. Todd 545 

THE MAN OF TOMORROW Mrs. Floy Galey Tonkel 546 

HANDS OF LOVE Junne Tracy 546 

CONSOLATION Raymond Trammel, Jr. 547 

HOPE DEFERRED Jessica J. Trommer 547 

IN LIGHTLESS HAWAII Fanny Gregory Troyer 548 

THE OLD SPRING GARDEN SPRING Jorge Truiar 549 

THE NEED Louise Tucker 550 

FOR LOVE Katherine Turner 550 
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF FOUNTAIN LAND Virginia Casey Turner 551 

SPRING'S REFRESHMENT Sally M. Twohill 553 

MY PRAYER Marjorie Vail 553 

"PER ASPERA " Margaret Vale 554 

GOD IS A POEM Lydia Van Dervoort 555 

SUMMER EVENING IN CHICAGO Herbert Vandort 556 

RESURRECTION Luella D. Van Dusen 556 

TREES AT NIGHT Catherine Van Open 557 

SONG IN EXILE Effie B. Garrison Vaughan 557 

YEARNINGS Geneva Bridges Vaughan 558 

MEMORY'S TEMPLE Gertrude Palmer Vaughan 559 



PRELUDE Arnold R. Verduin 561 

LITTLE YET GREAT Hannah More Kirkpatrick Vint 561 

CALLING YOU Medora Jean Vogler 562 

FAITH AND REASON Paul Joseph Lenard Votlmer 563 

ON ENGLISH HILLS Zmde I. Voorheis 563 

A PLEA FOR PEACE Antoinette Wade 563 

THE BOMBAR)DIER Walter H. Wager 564 

THE WILD GOOSE CHASE Hedwig Wagner 565 

DIM CHRISTMAS 1942 Julia Wagner 566 

STICK TO THE JOB Glenn Earl Wagoner 56> 

DESERT GIFTS T. Brian Wallace 567 

TREES Minnie Darby Walters 568 

REVERIE Serena Wallace Walters 568 

WORD SONNET Shirley Lou Walton 569 

AUTUMN TRAILS Nora Pearl Wantland 569 

A LITTLE BOY Matie Waldo Warwick 570 

SYMPHONY Helen Peavy Washburn 571 

FORWARD Myrtle May Watson 572 

OUR NEED Margaret Rebecca Watts 572 

SPRING TREE Annie Laurie Weaver 572 

AN IMAGE OF CLAY? Harriett A. Webster 573 

THE WISH Elsie May Weed 574 

TWO BROKEN HEARTS Virginia Wegman 574 
ON THE THIRTIETH DAY OF THE SIEGE OF STALINGRAD 

S, J. Weiss 57t> 

NIGHT SCENE Helen Wenberg 577 

DUSK Twila E. W endt 577 

DIVINE DISCONTENT Florence Westman 577 

THE CRIMINAL LAWYER Emeline Whisnant 578 

SHE WEARS A MASK Grace Yoke White 578 

RUSHMORE Will Wickersham 579 

WHEN OUR BABY'S SICK IN BED Catherine Leinen Wieging 580 

AMERICA MY NATIVE LAND Edith Wiegleb 580 

THE PATCHWORK QUILT Mrs. Vera Berg Wig gin 581 

FLIGHT Berniece Wiggins 582 

THE CRUCIFIXION Rev. B. L. Wightman 583 

AU REVOIR, MORPHEUS! Edwina L. Wilkinson 584 

NO REGRETS Catharine Williams 585 

I WANT TO BE A GYPSY Flora Williams 586 

NURSING NUN Gene Virginia Williams 587 

SUFFICIENT UNTO THE DAY Jessie T. Williams 587 

THE FLAG ETERNAL Elizabeth Chapman Willier 588 

SPRING IS HERE Edith Willis 589 

THE FROST KING Alice A. Wilson 589 

INDIAN TRADER Eddie W. Wilson 590 

THE TRANSITION Eva W. Wilson 591 

PEACE Mamie Graves Wilson 591 

THE WALL AND THE SWALLOWS Ruth B. Wilson 592 
"HE HATH MADE EVERYTHING BEAUTIFUL" 

Annie E. Winburne 592 

MISSOURI PIONEERS Anna Winter 593 

PANDORA (EVERYWOMAN) Anne-Elise Roane Winter 594 

THE RIVER lone Hamilton Winterling 594 

QUIET SONGS Sarah Louise Womble 595 

LINES Winifred Wood 596 

AGELESS INDIAN MAN Jeanette Woods 596 



GO WESTERN Adah Woolston 597 

WIND IN THE GRASS Nita Kibler booster 598 

DAY DREAMING Letka Wooten 599 

WHEN I AM GONE G oldie Patterson Worrell 600 

PLEA Ann M. Wright 600 

FOLLOWING THE GLEAM Elizabeth Irwin Wright 600 

TO KEATS Kiki Wright 601 

COUNTRY ROAD Mildred E. Wright 602 

INARTICULATE Genie<ve Findlay Wyatt 603 

THE WAVE Julia A. Yako 603 

THE BRIDE Emma K. Y.arman 604 

SUJOCESS Elenor Yorke 604 

LOVE FREED FROM BONDAGE Mary E. Young 604 

BROKEN IDOLS O. E. Young 605 

CLEAN STARCHED APRON Lillie M. Zimmerman 606 

BEREFT Carrie Zolman 607 



TEACHERS LAMENT 

ALICE ANN ABELOVE 

Blessings on thee cherubs all, 
Whether you he large or small, 
Sitting in your respective places, 
Peering from your upturned faces; 
Staring with a vapid look 
Instead of looking at your book; 
Mind off- the Lord knows where - 
Work not done but you don't care. 
Ask a question and I bet 
A grunt or "Huh" is all Til get, 
Try to put a point across, 
Find that you're a total loss. 
Rant and rave, fret and frown, 
Many's the knave I'd like to crown 
Then you smile so unaware 
The little man who's not all there. 

Hand in work sight to behold. 

No better no matter how much I scold. 

Dash in tardy, leave room fast, 

Action shown when classes pass. 

Spoiled little brats, mother's pet, 

Never remember, always forget; 

Don't know the score from the word "Go," 

And if you do, you're so slow. 

Impossible ever to get you working, 

Prize students when it comes to shirking. 

Yes, as I sit and gaze at you 

I know why I'm glad when day is through. 



[9] 



THE CHURCH BY THE WAYSIDE 

DELL K. ABRAHAM 

A quaint little church by the wayside stood, 
And beckoned to all, the bad and the good; 

Its sweet toned bell seemed to say 

"Come in, weary ones, and rest today; 

If burdens be heavy and the world unkind, 

Just tell it to Jesus and sweet comfort find. 

His love will sustain you, through life to the end. 

Come in and meet Jesus, your Saviour and Friend." 

And all who came within that door 

Were given a welcome, whether rich or poor: 

The pastor told of God's great love, 

And of a home for all in Heaven above, 

While warm handclasps and friendly smiles 

Made the discouraged feel life was yet worthwhile. 

A stranger left with head held high 
And hopes lifted upward to the sky. 
For him life had taken on something new, 
Like flowers refreshed by morning dew. 
Friends marvelled, but to him it wasn't odd 
He had only renewed his faith in God. 



[10] 



INTERLUDE 

DORIS ABRAMSON 

Love sought shelter from the rain 
And dried her golden wings. 
The trees forgot that they'd known pain; 
She made them think of little things 
That escape as half 'lived dreams. 
The trees recalled the summer sky, 
The shade'dappled, playful streams. 

They could not say exactly why 
They chose to remember little things, 
But bright was the sun and clear the sky 
When love had dried her golden wings. 

ORIGINS 

Impressions upon looking down upon Ka\abe\a Falls, Ontario 

EUGENIA ADAMS 

Can it be 

that many starfish 

are frozen 

into glaring whiteness 

from the dancing frosty tentacles 

of the pounding, roaring waters, 

rushing 

pell-mell 

down one-hundred'nineteen feet 

at Kakabeka Falls? 



FOR LOVE OF MANKIND 

GERRY ADAMS 

OS goes the alarm with a noisy jangle, 

Out of bed I so sleepily scramble. 
Yawningly I'm dressed and ready at last 

Only time left for a bite of breakfast. 

Rollcall and off to work once again, 

Give medicines and morning care, and then 

Three hours off, or perhaps two and a half, 
It flies, and I'm back with the staff. 

Temperatures to take, treatments to give, 
A baby delivered please, God! let it live. 

I give thanks as it draws its first breath 
Or pray for it if He wills it death. 

Lights to answer, wash water to pour, 

Supper trays oh! but my feet arc so sore, 

And Fm so tired, but all the while 
I wear the same professional smile. 

Now everything's done by the same routine, 
Over a weary face my tired eyes gleam. 

I'm off duty at last, but the very next day 
ril be doing it over in the same old way. 

Although discouraging and hard to take, 

Not one of us would it forsake. 
It's in our blood we all love it, 

No other work could go above it. 



[12] 



CONFESSIO GRATA 

CORA L. ADLER 

When I delight in Autumn's gold and crimson trees, 
And watch the birds' unerring flight to southern homes, 
When fruit is stored and roses swathed against the bitter 

cold, 

And firelight warms the heart when winter comes, 
Then I am truly thankful. 

When I behold Old Glory fluttering in the breeze- - 
The Stars and Stripes of Freedom, precious gift 
When all my prayers entreat for guidance in the way 
To serve my country best, the burden of mankind to lift. 

For its protection I am grateful. 
When from the blight of War's destruction I recoil, 
When by deceit's dark cloak the light of truth is hid, 
Then I remember men who challenge wrong and champion 

right, 
And strive with voice and pen the world of sin to rid, 

For these brave souls I'm thankful. 
If ever from the scourge of strife and hate 
Should come a world of peace and harmony, 
If doubt should yield to hope and all men's good be sought, 
If every soul could be in tune with Nature's symphony, 

Then what a grand Thanksgiving all mankind 
would know. 



[13] 



LULLABY 

MARIA ADOLPHUS 

The sun is tired, the day is done, 

Sleep my baby, sleep. 

The moon and the stars are shining above, 

Sleep my baby, sleep. 

The calves and the colts are asleep in the barn, 
Sleep my baby, sleep. 

The puppies are sleeping down in the shed. 
Sleep my baby, sleep. 

The little chickens have gone to sleep 
Under their mother's wings. 
All the kittens are sleeping now. 
Sleep my baby, sleep. 

The she'bear has taken her little cubs, 
And rocked them to sleep in a cave. 
The little foxes are sound asleep, 
Sleep my baby, sleep. 

The fishes and frogs are asleep in the pond. 
And all the birds in the woods. 
The moon and the stars are shining above. 
Sleep my baby, sleep. 



HEAVENLY COMFORT 

MRS. ALFRED AHLBERG 

Christ speaketh often, in quietest of hours 
When twilight overtakes the light of the day: 
Then doth He whisper heavenly comfort 
He gives me strength to walk in life's way. 

[14] 



Often He leads me to groves, in the woodlands, 
Bids me to tarry, kneel down, and to pray; 
There in the stillness I pray, oh so softly, 
There I find rest from the toils of the day. 

He bade me so surely, go drink from the fountain, 
The waters of life, till full and refreshed; 
My crushed wounded heart was healed by the waters, 
There was I comforted; there was I blest. 

Often while walking by rivers of waters 

There, by the murmuring streams, I find peace; 

There I rejoice in the plan of salvation, 

Christ brought redemption; Christ brought release. 



SPRING SONG 

PATRICIA S. ALBRIGHT 

There's a tiny cloud of cotton 
caught and held 
by the new and feath'ry leaves of Springtime trees. 

And a sunny flower shadow 
gently swayed 
by the fondling of the subtle southern breeze. 

There's a swelling in my heart 
and a surging in my breast 
for the longing, loving laughter of the Spring! 

(There's a dark-clad troop of soldiers 
with a bleakness in their eyes 
marching passively to battle for their king.) 



[15] 



THE PATIENTS SONG 

GLADYS ALLEN 



In a bed so high, 
Just pain and I 
Waiting for the day 
When time and skill 
Will cure the ill 
And I shall go away. 

The time does come 
That both are one 
And I rejoice to find 
My health returned, 
The release I yearned 
For body and for mind. 

And grateful I 

Shall always try 

To give due credit to 

The ones that strive 

To keep alive 

A life and win, for you. 



A MESSAGE FROM MARS 

MABEL G. ALLEN 

Oh, thou who art weary and sad at heart, 
Tired of Earth-born toil and strife, 
Cease for a while thy care and toil, 
Oh, ye workers of market and soil, 

And, as the soft fading twilight 

Blends into the deepening night, 

Look not downward but upward, 

Into the blue above, and see God's signs of love. 

[16] 



Behold the planet Mars 
Up there amidst the twinkling stars, 
Like a clear cut diamond in the night, 
Giving to us of its warmth and light. 

Ever changing from white to red and gold 
With its hidden treasures untold. 
Nearer, now, to earth in the heavenly highway, 
Than it will be for many a night and day. 

Case on this miracle of the skies 
For time, which waits for no man, flies. 
And soon this planet among the stars 
Will seek some new field afar. 

Then dream and let thy fancies roam 
Far into that blue arched dome. 
And be comforted, oh weary of heart, 
Be faithful in doing thy humble part. 
Knowing that an unseen infinite hand 
Is guiding the destiny of our land. 



READY? 

RUTH ALLEN 

When the last day cometh and we hear our name, 

Are we ready to answer the call? 

When we see Jesus coming with hands outstretched, 

Are we ready to answer the call? 

Are we ready, are we ready, 

Are we ready for the Judgment day? 

When we hear Jesus calling our names from the list, 

Are we ready to answer that day? 



[17] 



REMEMBER? 

JOHN M. ALLERA 

Remember when you crawled around 

And turned the place right upside down; 

You dallied in the flour bin 

And bruised and bumped that little chin; 

You'd take it all and keep your smile 
When you were hurting all the while; 
Remember? 

Remember when you started school, 

Things seemed so strange and rather cool; 

You couldn't wait to hurry home 
To tell your Mom and Dad alone 

The things that Sister Mary did 

And how the teacher spanked that kid: 
Remember? 

Remember when you reached the stage 
That people call the awkward age. 

You'd blush, then kid the girls along, 
And everything you did seemed wrong: 

The night you asked about the car 
For your first date with Carrie Farr. 
Remember? 

Remember when you told your Dad 
About the ring that Carrie had. 

You thought that you were then a man. 
You'd get along as best you can. 

But Mother said you were too young, 
That you were still her baby son. 
Remember? 

Remember what a talk we had. 

'Twas quite a job for your old Dad 
To shake your hand and say good-bye 

And watch your Mom and Carrie cry. 

[18] 



I felt that way because I thought 

Of happy moments you had brought. 
Remember? 

Remember now in all those years 

The ups and downs, the joys and tears. 

No super race, no vengeful hate, 
No shackle chains to seal your fate. 

Yours is the life we fed and nursed, 
Ours was the hope the Axis cursed. 
Remember? 

We bow our heads and pray the day 
When all the world will see our way. 

Hold high the torch, spread far the light; 
May God be with you through this night. 

Unfurl the flag, long let it wave, 
You are the free, you are the brave. 
Remember? 



CONCHAS DAM 

LILLIE GERHARDT ANDERSON 

Where cattle roamed and slaked their thirst 

Throughout so many years, 
A massive wall of gray concrete 

A solid phalanx rears. 
A Gordian knot that welds two streams 

To form an inland sea: 
For man in God's own image 

Creator with Him shall be. 

The waters of this new born lake 

Shall make the desert bloom, 
And thus dispersed, will curb the floods 

That scatter deepest gloom. 
The lake will smile on arid land, 



[19} 



Reflect the azure skies, 
While beneath its waters, a fathom deep, 
Tin Aja line camp lies. 

Here cowboys rode the rugged range 

As round-up time drew near, 
And spread their beds beneath the stars 

To sleep without a fear. 
But so the ceaseless change of time 

Is constantly unfurled. 
We bear the imprint of the change 

And so does all the world. 



KEEP THE CHILDREN HAPPY 

MARTHA ANDERSON 

The world is war torn 

And people are tired, 

But let's keep the children happy. 

Our nerves are worn 

And emotions are fired, 

But let's keep the children happy. 

Let's give them gay dances and games and songs, 
For although we're trying to right the world's wrongs, 
Let's keep the children happy. 

We all have sorrows, it is true 
There are so many things to make us blue. 
And so many things we ought to do, 
But let's keep the children happy. 

Let them not know our dreads and fears, 
Let them not feel our sadness and tears, 
Let them be gay for a few more years, 
Let's keep the children happy! 

[20] 



A PATIENTS PAIN 

(With apologies to Robert Loveman) 

MARY HELEN ANDERSON 



It is not raining rain to me 
It's raining doctor bills; 

The first of every month I see 
A sight that gives me chills. 

I dread the day that I must pay, 
In tears I almost drown; 

It isn't raining rain to me 
It's raining statements down. 

It is not raining rain to me, 
But floods of deepest gloom, 

For I must pay my nurse's fee 
Beside my bed and room. 

My health would make me happy 
Except for these regrets 

It isn't raining rain to me 
I'm swimming in my debts! 



REVANCHE 

MAY ANDERSON 

Some day you will know 

What inward grievings you have given me. 

Some day you will know 

That although my granite face did not quiver 

With your cruel lashing of words, 

The sting in my heart has set ruffles astir 

In my inner chambers 

And the circlet of disturbed emotions 

From the stone which was my heart, 

Will rise to the surface and roll outward 

Enveloping you 

And you will know the torment of drowning tears. 



[21] 



A MOTHER'S PETITION 

GRACE MCCULLOUGH ANGELL 



What e'er I do, where e'er I go, 
There's someone watching me I know. 
I must be careful of my tone, 
Lift I my voice in speech or song. 
I must be careful what I say 
For someone's listening all the day. 

Two bright eyes so clear and blue 
Watching everything I do; 
Two sharp ears hear all I say- 
Let my words be what they may; 
One small voice is patterned after 
Mine in speech, in song, in laughter. 

Father, hear my one request - 
Keep me always at my best. 



MY NEIGHBOR 

MARY M. ANSON 

She isn't alluring, 

She's never had a permanent, 

A finger wave, or manicure; 

And I'm quite sure 

Her dresses are home-made; 

They never have that perfect look, 

They never seem quite like 

The pattern in the fashion book. 

Her hands, work-worn and red, 

Her shoes ill fitting r 

They make her clumsy as she walks; 

Even her words come faltering when she talks; 

This woman this woman is my neighbor. 

Her soul is beautiful, 

She's lived a life of service, 

[22] 



Been at her family's beck and call 

And that's not all 

Most everyone in the whole town 

Who has felt the need of a helping hand, 

Of a loving presence near, 

One to take a situation in command. 

Her hands can smooth a troubled brow, 

Her gentle voice 

Is like the cooling water of the woodland brook, 

The peace and understanding of Him is in her look; 

This woman this woman is my neighbor. 



YOUR SON 

MARY APPLEGATE 

You had a son for thirty years 

He went away today. 

The tears are streaming 

Down your face, 

I think you should be gay. 

The Lord has taken what he lent 

For thirty years of fun. 

If tears you have, shed 

Them for me 

Who never had a son. 



RETURN TO EARTH 

ALOHA L. ARANCIBIA 

Ah, death so kind 

An end to pain and fear. 

The brow relaxed, 

The tired eyes closed, 

The world no more to know, nor feel, 

Nor care. 



[23] 



Come, cool sweet earth, 

Fold o'er the lifeless clay 

And cradle it 

Within thy breast 

And let it be a part of thy great strength 

Until that day. 



HOW ARE THE MIGHTY FALLEN 

JULIA E. ARGES 

Once they stood proudly on the heights 

With branches outstretched 

To catch the sunshine and the rain, 

Yielding gently to the breeze 

Or wrestling with the gale, 

Muffled in scarves of snow 

When winter came. 

Now deep in the mud they stand, 

Shorn of every limb, 

Bearing, Atlas'like, colossal burdens, 

Teredos gnawing at their hearts 

Stripped of everything. 



MY DAD 

IVADEANE M. ARMSTRONG 

Quietly smoking his smelly pipe, 
Reading the paper beneath the light, 
Audibly quoting news from abroad, 
Loudly denouncing much of their fraud. 
For he, himself, a prince among men, 
Before injustice would not bend. 
Charitable, kind, merciful, just, 
He is a man whom mankind can trust. 
My Dad. 

[24] 



THE CRUMB-TAKER 

ETHEL ARNOLD 

With your own lipe you kissed my hand; 

I had the grace to see 
That you were meant for higher things 

Too good you were for me. 

You had stooped, and you were proud; 

You noticed me no more; 
Yours the road to destiny, 

With fame in mounting store. 

Those who pause to pity me 

Do not understand; 
I'm loveless, yes, and colorless, 

But you kissed my hand. 



BOSTON COMMON 

F. B. ARNOLD 

I saw Jesus in Boston Common. 

A crowd had gathered . . . 

I went to see what it was about. 

Loafers and bums, disappointed, disillusioned, down on their luck. 
... A bath, a shave, a change of clothes not a chance! A 
bed to sleep in at night not for them! 

Hungry, bleary-eyed, bitter, they had gathered to hear the argu- 
ment. 

He was one of them, but poised and self-sustained. 

Facing his questioners, one foot on the park bench where they sat, 
men all around . . . 

In his clear, mystic voice, his deep earnest soul laid bare, this is whatj 
he said: "There is good and evil; man must choose the one 
he will" . . . 

C25] 



Pricked in their hearts, they made to cover their confusion by argu- 
ment and questions. And one burly listener, touched in the 
quick unknowing, turned away and profaned the word of 
truth bitterly: "He don't know a god'dam'd thing!" 

But in Boston Common before a park bench 
I saw Jesus and heard him speak. 



LEGEND OF POINT MUGU 

GERTRUDE THOMAS ARNOLD 



Gloomy it stands, 
A fortress bold, 
Where tumbling waters 
Long have rolled. 
"Moo-hoo, moo-hoo," 

At dead of night 
The savage heard 
And waked in fright. 

"The voice of God/ 1 
The red man thought 
And deemed the mount 
A holy spot. 

In canyons far 
He chased the deer, 
But Point Mugu 
He held in fear. 

The waves lashed in 
Like a serpent long 
And e'en by day 
Was heard their song. 

[26] 



"Moo-hoo, moo'hoo," 
From mountain side 
The answer came 
With every tide. 

The white man now 
Has broken through 
The rugged headlands 
Of Point Mugu. 

But still the echo 
Gives warning true: 
"Beware the surf, 
Moo'hoo, moo-hoo." 



SYMPATHETIC WATERS 

MELVIN S. ASHWILL 

I stood by the river and was sad and the river was sad 

with me. 
Its gurglings and bubbles were soothing words to my soul. 

I stood by the river and was joyful and the river was 

glad with me. 
Its gurglings and bubbles were expression of happiness 

unlimited. 

I stood by the river and was afraid and the river, too, 

was afraid. 
Its gurglings and bubbles were warnings of terrible, 

unseen forces. 

I stood by the river and drowsed and the river was at rest. 
Its gurglings and bubbles were sounds of peace to a 
free soul. 



[27] 



ABIDING FAITH 

EVELYN ATKINSON 

My daily life, at its contented noon, 

Is filled with precious hours, whose quality 

Of sweetness is as tangible to me 

As honey, tasted from a silver spoon. 

But of my gifts, I count the greatest boon 

Infinite love, whose wisdom veils from me 

My future path; for should I there foresee 

Great wealth, or lordly eminence, too soon 

Ambition's searing flame would peace destroy. 

Or, should life's lengthening days hold much of ill, 

Or griefs my faltering heart may scarce withstand, 

Let them not dim the glow of present joy! 

My God, who blesses now, will guide me still, 

With love benign. My times are in His hand. 



ON FRIENDSHIP 

CAROLINE PATIENCE AUGUR 

What is there in the human soul 
That makes one yearn to find someone 
Who shares the self same awe for life 
Who feels the joy of early spring 
And must burst forth in songs of praise, 
Who likes the smell of wood fires burning, 
Whose heart is touched by stirring music, 
Who's moved by poets' singing words, 
Who enjoys the stimulus of sports, 
Who keenly feels the wants of others, 
Who attacks life's work from joy within, 
Who understands thfcse things and more! 

What makes one want to know that soul 
With whom to share these joys around 
And in that sharing form a bond 
That draws souls close to sense and find 
Some of that love which moves the world! 

[28] 



AUTUMN FIRES 

DOUGLAS AYRES, JR. 

How like a fire in autumn 
Burn bright the forest leaves, 
Still clinging to tall treetops, 
Though their mission is fulfilled. 
How they flare up the mountains, 
And light with mellow glow, 
Winding stream courses, flowing 
Far below and splash 
In gypsy pattern 
Staid spruce and balsam fir. 
Here maples' molten banners 
Like slow embers flutter down 
To float in gaudy colors 
On many a mountain brook, 
Quenched in icy waters 
But with neither steam nor smoke. 
The forest fire is spreading, 
Beech is scorched, birch pure gold, 
Oaks aflame, poplars yellow 
Scatter sparks about together, 
Till, fanned to highest pitch 
By autumn winds cavorting, 
Leafless trees alone remain 
To mark such conflagration. 



A WHIMSY 

F. V. B. 

I look beyond the mountain peaks, 

I look beyond the sky, 
I wish I were a cowboy gay 

On hill tops riding high. 

I gase across the sagebrush gray, 
I sniff its pungent air; 



[29] 



I wish I were a graceful fawn 
With ne'er a hint of care. 

I see the firs on sloping ridge, 
The clouds above them white; 

I would I were the gypsy wind 
That stirs their dreams at night. 



LITTLE FISHERMAN 

DORIS JEAN LEWIS BABKA 



Freckles shining on his nose, 
Specks of mud upon his clothes, 
Sleeves rolled up, a line of tan, 
He's my little fisherman. 

Sits all morning, feet are bare, 
Insects bite, but he doesn't care, 
Waiting, hoping for the time 
When a fish will nip his line. 

As the sun sets in the west, 
Trudging home he's at his best, 
Whistling, happy as a lark. 
He has caught a four inch carpi 



TO WALTER 

MARGUERITE DIGGS BAGBY 



A colored leaf you brought me, 
A shiny rock or two, 
And now a home-made valentine 
Which begs me to be true. 

It doesn't have my name on, 
It simply says "To you." 
It might say, "To my Teacher" 
If you could spell that, too. 

[30] 



THE UNATTAINABLE 

ANNE HOWARD BAILEY 

Before the spears and cuirasses of war 

Are flung aside, and false shouts of peace 

Resound down corridors of weary Time, 

May one low whispered thought presage hell's surcease. 

Vic'try the world knows it is a simple thing: 

It costs but gold, and blood, and human life, 

All soon these easy things are overpassed, 

And sacrifice forgot, in peace's strife. 

It is too easy triumph over wrong, 

Ascendant good what price to those who live? 

To those who suffer none, truth is negative, 

Its attainment lies with the dying throng. 

Men must quest to find a conqueror's whole, 

Vic'try lies only in a selfless soul. 



TO FRANCE 

BETTE BAILEY 

To you, who in the midst of battle strong 
Fought hard the gripping steel of Nazi thrust, 
To stain the whetted knife with human rust 
Until oppression seised your cause, and pawned 
At reckless price your toil of freedom's song, 
Thank God for battered helmet in the dust, 
And blood-soaked boot, for of that death unjust 
New hope will come; in vain men are not gone. 

Above the trench, furl high the flag to meet 
A challenged world. Release your heart to find 
In broken soil a struggling liberty. 
Treat not unkindly all despair, defeat. 
Depend on future wills of space and time, 
And trust in God shall bring you victory! 



THE MOUNTAIN 

FISKE BAILEY 

I climbed all morning, up and up 

Kept climbing, weary chill. 

And still the peaks before me rose 

Unchallenged, higher still. 

My glance went up to those great peaks. 

I longed to reach them so 

My head felt giddy from the strain, 

My steps were very slow. 

Noon came, I knew I dare not go 

Much farther toward the skies, 

For I must leave some time to take 

The path that downward lies. 

By chance I faced the way Fd come 

Then, much to my surprise, 

Fd climbed so very high I saw 

The world before my eyes! 



THE COUNTRY CHURCHES 

ROSCOE J. BAILEY 

I have traveled into the mountains, 

Up and down through greenish sides, 
I have gone into the hamlets, 

Where the little cities lie. 
I have seen the little churches, 

Upon yon distant hill, 
And oh, they look so lonely, 

So quiet and so still. 

I wonder as I pass them, 

No matter where they stand. 
That's all the folks who live about, 

Have left the guiding hand. 
I have peeped into their portals, 

[32] 



Around their weathered sides, 

And thought of those so long ago, 

Whose ghosts may be inside. 

I look around and see the graves, 

The weed covered graves of men, 
And think of the years that have passed 

When they were fresh and green. 
If their dear souls could only see, 

The life beyond their sides. 
Then they would know without a doubt, 

Their church has died inside. 

Let us build back our temple, 
And carry our burning torch, 

Oh, please, dear God, just give us back, 
Our little country church. 



THE NATIVE RETURNS 
(An Old Mans Reverie) 

JOSEPH H. BAIR 

You beech-tree on this bank have stood 
Since I was a care-free, prattling child. 
I saw you bending by the flood 
As its graceful ripples around you smiled. 

That was four-score years ago, at least. 
The time I recall ever so well. 
You have since to your stately size increased 
Till now you are monarch in this dell. 

The swift waters at your feet still run, 
As they did in memory's days of old. 
With vines your banks are over-spun, 
And rocks and stumps they yet enfold. 



[33] 



This is still a very lively stream, 
For its source is in a living spring. 
Its frettings that in the sun -light gleam 
Many early recollections bring. 

As a child I sat upon this bank, 
With both feet bare set in this rill; 
Or on all fours from it I drank 
Its savory nectar to my fill. 

You are the same tree as of yore: 
The self 'same brook, I ween, 
But are your waters that now roar, 
The same I have in childhood seen? 

You sentinel of all these years, 
Who all the while observant stood, 
The waters that this stream now bears, 
Are they those known to my boyhood? 

I have been away since early years, 
And have lived in many a town and state, 
There witnessing Life's cares and tears, 
Mostly caused by love, and greed, and hate. 

My coming back here recalls the one 
With whom I waded in this stream. 
I am all alone now she is gone! 
Her death has foiled our youthful dream. 

Today I sit here on your roots, 
Thinking of those days once more: 
Your stately limbs (once tender shoots) 
Knife-carved initials then they bore. 

Ah, there they are her name and mine, 
On the lowest limb, in gnarled tattoo! 
Each letter I can still define, 
In the circle that I around them drew! 

[34] 



When we last sat here she and I, 
These great roots had not yet put forth. 
Our names I carved as she stood by, 
And then we pledged eternal troth. 

But soon distress and tears we bore: 
Her folks went West in Forty Nine. 
As cruel Fate her from me tore, 
It broke our hearts both hers and mine. 

Father refused to let me go 

To where my loved one went before. 

My spirit sank to grief and woe 

At the thought that we shall meet no more. 

Next spring an impulse came up strong 
To set out for the Sun-Set Land, 
And I did not resist it long: 
I soon was on the Western Strand. 

It was fall when I reached the Golden Gate, 
Where anxiously I sought my-own. 
But disappointment proved my fate, 
As year'byyear my search went on. 

I then decided to turn back, 
To seek along the toilsome way 
For information of her track: 
Learn if foul work led her astray. 

I soon recrossed the Great Divide, 
And looked, afar, across the plains. 
Hope gradually within me died; 
Expectation frustrated for my pains. 

At length I reached Fort Leavenworth, 
And there I learned the sad, sad news! 
May God set on such fiends a curse: 
My loved and folks were scalped by Sioux! 



And then in grief I vengeance swore: 
I became an Indian-hater there. 
And arms long since against them I bore: 
Each one I met her fate would share. 

Though she is long gone, my troth I have kept: 
I was faithful to the vengeance sworn. 
For her all through these years I have wept: 
My belt has many a scalp 'lock borne. 

Where her bones rest, I cannot say, 
But I know where her soul has gone, 
And very soon will come the day 
When I shall be no more alone. 

Our names, inscribed, with this tree will rot: 
All things we knew will disintegrate. 
But disappointed we shall be not, 
When I reach that other Golden Gate! 



FAITH 

ELMIRA EVANS BAKER 

Faith lives and grows on little things. 

Such scanty fare as would suffice 

That tiny bird with whirring, gausy wings 

Who, singing in a flower's heart, from it doth entice 

The one clear drop of sweetness 

Hidden there, no more, no less. 

Earth's face at early dawn, 

The light in a mother's eyes, 

Kindness-banished fear in a wild fawn, 

A man both strong and wise 

Though Life seems beckoning only to deceive. 

Fed thus I still can say I do believe! 

[36] 



FLOWERS IN THE HOSPITAL 

BELVA L. BALL 

Adelia brings me flowers every day. 

Yesterday it was three dandelions and some leaves, 

Today a little cactus in a pot; 

Once it was a tiny bunch of violets 

In a little bottle she had found somewhere. 

How does she know, she is eight years old, 

That I need these small blooms to light my way? 

For I am eighty and my race near run. 

Now, when the way seems dark, I look to see 

Adelia's blossoms on the table here 

And I can smile, for I am very sure 

There will be flowers on the other side 

And I shall not be lonely over there. 

GHOST TOWN 

AGNES W. BALLARD 

In the shadows of rugged western hills, 
'Neath the scorching desert sun, 
Stand the sad remains of a mining town 
Where money was lost and won; 

Where each evening the shacks were ablaze with light, 
Where life was carefree and gay 
But the empty hole of a mining shaft 
Soon turned the sky to gray. 

And now down the street runs a prairie dog, 
The only life left in the town. 
The roofs are sagging and doors are gone 
And shanties are tumbling down. 

And at night through paneless windows 
I see the moon as night settles down 
On the long lost wealth of many a man 
In the ghost of a mining town. 



[37] 



PURSES 

LYNNE WILLIAMS BALLARD 



Purses, purses, purses, 

I adore purses. 

Old dilapidated purses, 

Red purses, green purses, 

New purses, small purses, 

Large purses with plenty of room. 

Tapestries from the loom. 

Vanity boxes, and zipper kind, 

Italian leather purses fine. 

Even carpet bags so big 

Do my very soul intrigue. 

Alligator pouches grand, 

Plaid ones from a Scottish Clan 

Persian brocades smart, 

Brought from a foreign mart. 

Lovely beaded bags so fair, 

Silk embroidered ones rare, 

Little coin purses too, 

Treasured jeweled ones few. 

'Tis my whole heart's desire, 

Purses to have and admire. 

Purses, purses, purses. 



WE MUST GO ON 

SUE ELLA BALLENGER 

No matter how we fail or blunder 

As through this world we roam, 

There's one clear call resounding from the ages 

We must go on! 

When dire distress mounts about us, 
And in our hearts there is no song, 
When the world may seem against us, 
We must go on! 

[38] 



Though devastating wars may strike us, 
And we must depart from our beloved homes, 
Still there comes to us the echo 
We must go on! 

Look not back to mistakes and sorrows, 
For our way is not very long; 
There shall soon be a new tomorrow 
We must go on! 

Lift up your faces to the morning, 

For behind the dim unknown, 

Stands God looking down on his children 
As they go on! 



REMEMBER WOODROW WILSON 

BERTHA M. BANTON 

With Scott we remembered the Alamo, 

With Dewey we remembered the Maine, 

With Pershing the Lusitania, 

And now we remember again. 

For the Japs have bombed Pearl Harbor, 

Manila has fallen, they boast, 

While Singapore struggles on bravely, 

And Hong Kong to the British is lost. 

And while we remember Pearl Harbor, 

The defenders of Corregidor, 

And forge for our fighters the weapons 

To end the aggressors' war, 

There's another we all should remember 

With a plan to make wars cease 

Woodrow Wilson! A League of Nations! 

To insure for us all world peace. 

Let us remember a broken dreamer, 
And his dream of a peaceful world, 



[39] 



With a powerful League of Nations 
And a banner of peace unfurled, 
With a law the Ten Commandments, 
With a slogan World Brotherhood, 
With no man fearing aggression, 
And humanity working for good. 



ACROSTIC 

DAISIE BARCLAY 

Registered Nurses, we answer the call 

Eagerly waiting to aid one and all, 

Going where others would scarce understand 

In a remote and a warfaring land. 

Striving relief and good cheer to impart 

Trying to comfort some grief 'laden heart, 

Ever our purpose to heal and to bless 

Radiate sunshine to those in distress. 

Eve, morn, or midnight, it matters not where, 

Death, grief or tragedy, all these we share. 

Never too weary, God's helpers to be 
Unto the least, ye have done it to Me, 
Riches and glory hold such a small place 
Sacred the smile on a pain^ridden face. 
Easing life's burdens, afflictions and pain, 
Surely such service is not all in vain. 



TIME WAS 

IRMA L. BARNARD 

There was a time when I knew I 
Could catch the stars, if I should try, 
Or walk across the milky^way 
But that was in another day. 

[40] 



There was a time, when I could live 
For life's uncompromising sieve, 
And find what I might deem worthwhile, 
If I but used a little guile. 

There was a time, but long ago 

And I have changed with time, you know; 

Life's left me hard, embittered, sad, 

I wish I had the dream I had. 



RECIPE FOR A ROMANCE COCKTAIL 

ETHEL THCRNE BARNES 

Take a very dark piazza 
And a ray of golden light 

In which there sits a couple young and fair. 
He must be both brave and manly 
With a pair of loving arms 

Strong enough to clasp the maiden sitting there. 

She will be enough attraction 
So don't add another drop 

But just sprinkle lightly o'er with sweet romance, 
Add a gently whispered question 
And a strong decided "No" 

Followed by a little maiden's doubtful glance. 

There need be no folly here 
For this tiny maid in ruffles 

Has a mind all set on what she'd rather do. 
But amidst a stubborn silence 
Add a tiny bit of strength, 

Manly Independence knows what he wants, too. 

Add a less decided "No" 
And a bit of hesitation, 

And a whole lot of resistance you will need. 



[41] 



Then dissolve all this resistance 
In a bit of manly strength, 

And to some slight scream pay not a bit of heed. 

After some faint sign of yielding 
Add some color to her cheeks, 

Also add a kiss or two if she agrees. 
Do not use them all up here 
For her rosebud lips are near, 

And there never was a pair as sweet as these. 

Use this recipe but once, 
And you'll never be in doubt 

As to who, or what, or when, or where, or why. 
It will serve in any climate 
If you're sure about your rules 

For it's certain that True love will never die. 



PEACE 

FRANCES BROOKS BARNES 

Peace, O heart! Be still 

And wait upon His will. 

He knows your needs before you ask; 

All Power! All Knowing! Give Him your task. 

Whatever your trouble or your pain, 

He's waiting to help you to Life again. 

Feel His presence, His boundless power 

To solve your problems hour by hour. 

O heart, lift up and know that thou 

Art part of God forever now. 



REVELATION 

AUDREY JANE BARRETT 

I walked among the clouds. 
Their silken fleece made slippers for my feet. 
The raindrops splashing 'round my head 
Were drops of wine: intoxicating, sweet. 

[42] 



I did not know that leather shoes 

Would cause me less regret. 
I woke to find the nectar only rain 
And found it very wet. 

THE GUARDIAN 

JOSEPHINE C. BARTON 

Where once the wings of silver 
Plied in the mo rning sun, 
Budding airmen training 
From dawn till day is done; 

Now lonely against the heavens 
Patrols a bomber lone, 
Up and across the valley, 
Keeping an even tone. 

A sense of comfort it gives us, 
To know that high above, 
A cruising plane is guarding, 
Protecting all we love! 

MY CREED 

ZOE E. BASHLINE 

God help me day by day 

To do thy blessed will; 
That I may never fail, 

With the divine ray 
Each little child to fill, 

As he onward sails. 



THRASHING 

DONALD R. BASHORE 

Dust in my throat, 
Dust in my eyes. 
Dust everywhere. 



[43] 



Dust, the tractors whining. 
Dust, the feeders coughing. 
Dust, the thrashers roaring. 
Dust, dust, dust. 

Dust, my hands are cracked. 
Dust, sweat in the cracks. 
Dust in the motor. 
Dust, yellow and gray. 
Dust, all the day. 
Dust, dust, dust. 

Sweat in my eyes. 
Dust in my throat. 
Aches in my back. 
Chaff in my shoes. 
Oh Lord, such agony. 

Damn the dust. 

Damn the motors whining. 

Damn the thrashers groaning. 

Damn the sweat. 

Damn the wheat. 

Oh Lord, have mercy! 



SALUTATION 

MILLER C. BASNIGHT 



How then forget, 
When every hour 

Is wrapped with oneness 
As its dower? 

When constant vigil, 

Memories keep, 
Their wakening slumber 

'Round my feet; 

[44] 



When every thought, 

However small, 
Demands importance 

'Midst it all; 

While waking hours 

Memories keep, 
And dreams invade 

My slumber deep. 

How then pass on 

To other days, 
When still my heart 

Must tread this maze? 



BLACK MAN 

MARGARET BAUMEZ 

He's a black man 

Got run'over black^man shoes, 
Got shabby, baggy breeches, 

Black-man style. 
If he were to wear a new suit 

He would be above himself. 
He eats alone, standing, 

Awkwardly, eyes sad, 
Black'inan conscious. 
He walks a clumsy, shuffling gait. 
He thinks it good to find a smile 

Charitably granted. 
Why should I care if his shoulders droop? 

He's a black man, 

And black men get that way. 



[45] 



GOD AND A GARDEN 

MAY BEAHM 

When God created man in His own image fair, 

He made for him a garden with naught but beauty there. 

He walked among the flowers, made friends of every beast, 

Communion with the Father made every meal a feast. 

At even, when the day grew dim, 

The Lord God came and walked with him. 

Now I have made a garden wilt Thou, Lord, make it fair; 
May it be for me an Eden with naught but beauty there. 

As I walk there when the sun sinks low, 

Lord, make me in Thy image grow; 

As there at eve I wait for Thee, 

Wilt Thou, Lord, come and walk with me! 



PEACE ON EARTH 
TO MEN OF GOOD WILL 

EILA HANCOCK BEALER 

Angelic hosts are ever near; 

Let human hearts be tuned to hear 
The praise to God that angels sing; 

They glorify the new born King. 

This Christmas night may all men hear 

The angels' message loud and clear. 
Peace in the earth! It is God's will! 

Peace on the earth! Ours to fulfill! 
Come! Join angelic hosts, oh Earth. 

Praise Christ who gives us second birth . 
Bow down, oh every land and nation! 

Bow down in simple adoration! 

All bitter hate and fear and greed 
Will vanish and our souls be freed. 

With good will in each heart toward mer 
Will come peace on the earth again. 

[46] 



ON BEING AWAKENED FROM 
EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY 

WILLIAM BEAUMONT 

On first glancing through your sonnets 

pressed from the sweetness of your mind, 

I felt soft beauty starting on its 

brow, beauty of the kind 

as when in Winter's breath is felt 

the touch of Spring on frosted fields. 

I was alone, alone enchanted 

on the quiet sea, hearing your words 

for the first time, soft slanted 

against the summer sky as slants the bird 

When starting from some dark corner 

of my mind, an airplane's gutted roaring 

broke, pressing flat against your 

lips. Thoughts of you fled soaring. 



I LOVE YOU SO 

MILDRED BEELER 

I love you so, I can not rest 

Unless you Ye resting too. 
You're just so much a part of me 

In everything I do, 
That when your heart is burdened 

With a cross that's yours to bear, 
It really isn't yours alone 

But mine with you to share. 

I love you so, your very smile 

Within my heart inspires 
A happiness that is expressed 

In all of my desires, 
And every time you kneel to pray 

For others to be true, 
I'm whispering a prayer that God 

Will love and care for you. 



[47] 



I love you so, I sometimes think 

That in God's gifts to man 
He gave the best of all he had 

When your life he began. 
You're like the lovely flowers 

That with beauty grow and grow, 
I guess that God has planned it thus 

That's why I Love you so. 



THE EMPTY HEART 

HELEN BEERLINE 

Alone, 

Alone 'mid the teeming millions. 

Always alone since love's gone from my life. 

A shawl of joy I can drape 'round my shoulders at will. 

Happiness just a veneer to show to my friends. 

My heart once knew love 'tis a cavern of loneliness now. 

I know no pain; there is no pain but this 

Love has gone from my heart 

And I am alone. 



DEMOCRACY 

MARY BEIER 

Democracy! Behold, the Man! 
The new'born King with earnest mien, 
Cast eye afar, to a distant day 
When man amid his peers shall be 
An individual entity. 

Thought free; soul free; master of his destiny! 
A king in his right to ever serve 
His day; his time; his fellow'men; 
So shall the human mind e'er stand; 
Democracy, its safe retreat. 

[48] 



No mad ravings from tangled wild 
Shall from a twisted brain e'er flow; 
Nor strife, nor bickerings of hate 
Enthrall the home of heavenly kind; 
For love, divine, shall reign complete. 

How far the day, how far the hour, 
When man shall win that sacred power, 
None can discern, nor prophet be. 
We only live to give our all 
That man this gem of peace may find 
Within his heart, Democracy! 



ON OBSERVING AN UNUSUAL CHILD 

DORIS P. BELL 

He has the beauty of quiet fields at dusk, 

Serene, remote in tranquil reverie. 

How many striving souls have shed their husk 

To form that oval face, the poetry 

Of liquid grace that marks his slightest motion? 

How much of beauty, choked in a past age, 

Long fallowed in its narrow earthly portion, 

Now lives again in his reflective gase? 

Those brooding, wide-spaced eyes, not quite aware, 

Have looked on glories of another clime; 

And some unprinted page is kept to bear 

His trace of being, his life pulse set in rhyme: 

For Genius, driving her bright silvered prow 

Down through the eons, has stopped to touch his brow. 

TILL ONE 

MARGARET E. BENGSTON 

Music I heard was music till you came, 

And now it is a haunting rhapsody; 
The tunes I sang before mean not the same, 

Since first your eyes with favor smiled on me. 



[49} 



The roads I traveled were just roads until 
I journeyed down them with you at my side; 

And now the roughest path is fair and still 
And strewn with roses, wonderful and wide. 

Each day was like the day that passed before 
And nights were lit by moons for other lips, 

Until the day your hand unlatched the door 
Into my huose and heart and sank my ships. 

For I had lived and laughed and thought I loved, 
And given of myself and asked no more 

Than to be glad at times. I am reproved 
By wanting only you forevermore. 



GREAT IS YOUR REWARD 

RUTH BENSEL 

They are not alone 

Who are sick of shadows; 

I would not have you 

Think that it were so. 

Across the shadows 

Of the unknown, 

Across the chasm 

Of the dark, 

Eager hands 

Reach out 

To clasp their own; 

Be we are not alone: 

We have a courage 

And a faith, 

Though stubborn we may be, 

That shall someday help us find 

Our love and peace and security. 

And who would mock your simple plea? 

And who would have the right, 

So long as you have faith and strength 

To stand up there and fight? 

[50] 



SACRED SCULPTURE 

ZYLPHA ALBRITTON BERLIER 

He lay so still, so peaceful and serene, 
An innocent babe called home to God. 

His body seemed carved from pure white marble, 
Carved by our Creator and not by man. 

The sacred young soul had been set free from earth 
And ushered into immortality, still pure. 

I reverently straightened and smoothed his brow 
And humbly whispered to myself, 
"The Lord giveth and he taketh away/' 

THE SPIRIT AND THE FLESH 

ROBERT A. BERNARD 

"How can I serve the Master?" 

Inquired the spirit of the flesh. 

"That is easy, companion spirit, 

Come, let us the joys of life enmesh 

Within the walls of my good temple; 

Let us feed this mortal man. 

We will satiate his earthly cravings, 

And we will join life's happy band. 

We are the victims of cruel torture, 

And it was not intended so. 

Here I am loving life, 

With you in me filled with strife, 

And to everlasting hell must go, 

If unguarded you are found 

By Satan's imps and garish clowns. 

What a happy pair we would be, 

If you would join me and be free 

From this devilish constant care 

Of obeying laws one can not bear. 

Yours is a hard task, good spirit, 

Don't you see? 

Come, let us live; let us be free." 



[51] 



Left unguarded spirit stands 

Within the flesh of mortal man 

Thinking deeply of his plight. 

"What a team we do make 

As the flesh of life partakes/' 

Spirit thinks with all his might. 

"A part of God here I stand 

Within the flesh of mortal man 

As he satiates his fleshly cravings. 

If I lead flesh to more light, 

I will be saved by the Master's mignt 

And be serving Him by saving. 

If I am lead by his misleading, 

Bad example and false pleading, 

Then eternal life I have waived, 

To be bound by Satan's might 

In the darkness of hell's night, 

And forever, forever lost to God. 

Then, I will lead flesh to more light 

From the dark of darkest night, 

And the paths of righteousness we will tread 

Like a flashing, blinding light 

The flesh at last receives true sight, 

From the spirit's ever-living God. 

And bowing in submission, 

Penitent flesh in deep contrition 

Embraces spirit to his heart. 

"Good friend spirit now I see 

Why the cross of life should be 

A part of every human life. 

If I, in all things had my way, 

I would in turn my friends betray 

Into ceaseless never ending strife. 

Now, we will work with main and migi 

Giving joy to all on sight. 

That will be our earthly task. 

Giving joy and hope and faith, 

Leading through life's pitfalls safe 

Weary travelers of the night. 

[52] 



And now I know by intuition, 

Love's true depths, life's full fruition; 

And of others' faiths and sorrows too. 

If my flesh no spirit contained, 

I would be dead though my body retained 

Semblance of the living. 

Good spirit, you are the beauty which shines in me, 

That touches strong men and sets them free 

From the sins of mortal man. 

But, evermore there will be 

A stark spectre that is not free, 

Inhabiting the flesh. 

Embattling us in deadly fray 

As we struggle from day to day 

From victory on to victory. 

And this hydra headed will of flesh 

Our wills will still endeavor to enmesh 

With that of fear and mystery. 

When our path of life will have run, 

Spirit and flesh joined will have won 

Life's eternal victory.'" 1 



SKY MAGIC 

BERTHA BERRY 

I don't know when, in childhood days, 
1 first caught sight of tall, blue sky; 
I only know my awe of it 
Will never die. 

I only know, where'er I go, 
Or near or far, I will not care, 
For always, always overhead 
It will be there. 

I don't know why this bit of sky 
Can set off magic in my heart; 
I only know that if my life 
Be set apart 

[53] 



In tangled ways drab, sordid, cold 
My heart will like a vine reach up, 
And drink there deeply, eagerly 
Of beauty's cup. 

ETERNAL BLISS 

MRS. MARION R. BERRY 

When I kneel and pray to God, 
I ask that my prayers may bring 
Not wealth, joy and happy times, 
I ask for a deeper thing. 

The gifts I seek lie far within 
My conscience and my soul, 
I ask God to guide me near 
To Him who is my goal. 

I do not get discouraged, 
When I do not get all this, 
For it shall take a lifetime, 
To gain my eternal bliss. 

ILLUSION 

STEPHEN BLACKHURST 

Listen, Experience, 
Til teach you a lesson. 

See Venus 

How she glows 

With sardonic satisfaction? 

She knows; 

She was there. 

When I awoke from dreaming 
She was there, 
Laughing, 
Because she knew. 

[54] 



I thought she only smiled, 
And the dream, I thought, was real. 
So I dreamed beyond my sleep 
While Venus laughed. 



LIFE'S GARDEN 

VIVIAN EVERHART BLAIN 

I chanced one day when walking 

To see a garden fair, 
Where roses bent their stately heads 

While I was passing there. 

I gazed in wonder at the flowers 

Each little one so sweet, 
And thought the plan behind it all, 

That great and small should meet. 

And while the flowers all summer grew 

To shed their perfume rare, 
I thought how like, in life's strange way, 

We find our heart ease there. 



MY TRYST 

W. A. BLANKENHORN 

I have a tryst with my Saviour, 

A rendezvous deep in His grace. 
When earth'ties grow rife with disfavor 

I hie me away to some place 
To some place that is quiet, secluded, 

And there in the arms of my Lord 
I tell Him how I've been deluded, 

How tried friends have broken their word. 
He tells me how He was betrayed, 

How tried friends had broken His heart; 



[55] 



And then it seems that He holds me 

So close that we never shall part. 
And oh, how I thrill when he whispers, 

"My Grace all sufficient shall be." 
And oh, how His will seems to urge me 

To live just as lowly as He. 
And so as we go down plain pathways 

I'm aware, everywhere He's with me, 
A smile from His face, a moment's embrace, 

Is to me: harmony, victory, ecstasy. 

They tell me my Friend's a delusion, 

My tryst is a fancy self-wrought. 
That this love can but end in confusion, 

That the pleasures of earth are all bought. 
Yet I know 'tis not so what they tell me, 

For I've bartered, bought greatly withall, 
Still my tryst with my Christ and my Saviour 

Is much finer, diviner, than all. 

FAITH 

MARIE BLECHERT 

Only a candle burning low 
And a quiet hush in the air; 
Only this flame to let me know 

There's a Greater Light "Over There." 
Only my hope to urge me on 
One Truth, to light the way. 
Only my Faith and if it's gone 
How can I walk each day? 

THRENODE 

HONORA MARY BIBAUD 

And when the leaves by wind of autumn turned, 
Sing to my heart the songs of things they knew, 
When woodpaths where we wandered have grown sere, 
And merged with wailing, swaying ghosts of trees, 
[56] 



Dim weary ways for pilgrims' aching feet 
Wound 'round eternal roods of rock-strewn hills, 
Beneath the chill of waning cloud-chased moon, 

O then I think 'twas scarcely yestere'en 

That sunshine tinged the laughing, elfin leaves 

With glinting light and that long shadowed road 

Which in the end leads to thy hillside rest, 

Was but a violet path for dancing elves, 

That timed their steps unto our joyousness, 

When all the woodland haunts were sweet with song 

Of lilting redbird, thrilling from his nest, 

Where mellow waters mirrored sycamores, 

And willows, dripping fingers green and long 

Into the placid silence of the lake 

Ah God! how hopeless, when November winds 
Re-echo to my heart, across thy grave. 



MAN 

AMELIA STEFANO BIDDLE 

Oh soul crying in the lonely night, 

Oh flesh that burns and finds no ease 

Oh vain question and no answering, 

Oh beat of heart that will not still; 

Oh deeps within, vain useless questions, 

Oh stars above, beyond our grasping. 

Oh Man! beseeching, unavailing atom of eternity. 



GOODNESS? 

ANITA BIELMAN 

Sometimes I wonder how much good one can do 
But no book can tell; it is all very true 
Because a kindness here and a kindness there 
So often is accepted unaware. 

[57] 



The teacher does sacrifice her time no doubt 
But who can know what her pupils are about? 
It may be that just inspiration put in 
Will start ideas which later will win. 

This world of ours is great and wide 
And many men and women do here abide, 
But nevertheless as the old saying goes 
"The worthwhileness of good one never knows/ 

A DRIFTING THOUGHT 

MILTON BIERSCHWALE 

A force beyond my surest control 
This thought takes dominion o'er me, 
Making my imagination swell and roll 
Like waves of the foaming sea; 
Then like a storm that leaves it quiet, 
This surging thought ebbs away, 
Leaving behind a fading light, 
And jolting me back to day. 

THUMBS UP 

JEANNE BIGHAM 

There will always be an England 

Dear to every British son; 
And her flag will wave on proudly 

Till the days of earth are done. 

Her planes will weather stormy skies 

Her ships sail o'er the sea, 
Each British heart will bleed a bit 

To keep her people free. 

Her men may die in glory 

As the tides of battle roll, 
But you can not conquer England 

Till you've conquered Britain's soul. 

[58] 



A prayer for British victory 

"Thumbs up" she's sure to win: 
There will always be an England 

For the English won't give in. 

BLOSSOM TIME IN CALIFORNIA 

RICHARD CARLYLE BIMSON 

Ere winter storms have reached their height, 
While blizzards rage in colder clime, 
Beyond the Rockies, all is bright 
It's California's blossom - time. 

Blossoms, blossoms, everywhere, 

Pink and white upon the trees, 

With now a clump of green, then bare, 

Vast fields, caressed by gentle breeze. 

A carpet rare in brilliant hue, 
Far richer than the Kurdistan, 
Is formed by flowers gold and blue 
To fascinate the eye of man. 

Along the highways to the hills 
Flow'ring orchards flank the way; 
The valley with their fragrance fills, 
Resplendent in the light of day. 

Yet far more beautiful the scene 
In subdued light of setting sun, 
As o'er it casts a golden sheen, 
Announcing that the day is done. 

MOTHER 

VERA BINFORD 

This is my mother's home. 

Do not try to take her away. 

She is sinking her roots in this garden plot 

[59] 



Building her dreams on the house's foundation. 
Her hopes and her children both are here. 
She can not leave this place. 

She is erecting her plans on this soil. 

If she moves she must tear them down, 

And try to build them on new ground of new material, 

And that is wearing, soul "deadening work. 

She has done it too often. 

Each time she is a little more tired a little less certain. 

She must pause now- she can not move again. 



CREDO 

VINCENT J. BIONDO 

There comes a time into the life of man 
When creed is not enough; 'tis then his mind 
Disrupts the slender bond of faith which grows 
Oppressive to his aching soul, and, doubting, 
Gropes amid the pathless universe, 
An alien spirit seeking out fond hopes 
And empty dreams. It soars above yet can 
It not transcend mankind, and by so doing 
Reach affinity with God: so to transgress 
His law were mockery the stars do sound 
Their symphonies beyond mere mortal ears 
So long attuned to earthly strains. How drab 
And sullen seems this cosmic void to which 
W^e turn for comfort! Yet we know that soon 
The emptiness we feel within our hearts 
Shall be no more. If this be faith and yet 
'Tis dusk and ever lower sinks the sun 
Into its copp'ry grave, and floods the world 
In its departing glow: frightened, each ray 
Of shimmVy light recedes on padded feet 
To where the earth and heavens join 
In silent adoration of their Lord; 

[60] 



The very silence seems to breathe a prayer 

Of solemn quietude and calm repose; 

And though the sun is gone we feel no loss, 

For in its stead has come a greater peace 

To soothe our wayward senses. The light is gone 

But shall return again: resplendent, it 

Shall inspire in us a stronger faith, 

A greater affirmation of our God. 

A MILLION MILLION 

DOT PRINGLE BIRKINBINH 

The star embroidered sky above a hill, 
A breeze that sings from tree to tree, 

The feel of grass beneath my feet, 

The scent of hay, new mown and sweet, 
A quiet, pure and blessed and free . . . 

My home! Fm now a man on this, my hill. 

Tomorrow, I must go and learn to kill . . . 
A hell will torture land and sea . . . 

The dead be tramped beneath my feet . . . 

The pagan pulse again will beat . . . 
A tangled task is set for me ... 

My war! With fangs and fire, Fll learn to kill. 

The star embroidered sky above a hill, 
A dirge, from taps to reveille . . . 

The sullen sound of tramping feet . . . 

The scourge of war, and no retreat . . . 
A sodden sigh for liberty , . . 

"My God! My soul, for home . . . for my own hill!" 

IF I COULD DIE FOR JUST A DAY OR TWO 

ANN BISHOP 

If I could die for just a day or two, 
Escape from all this monotone of life 
Life reflected in a flawless net of sky, 



[61] 



A maze of stars that dazzle out of reach, 

The dull eternal drone of voices, 

Pierced only by the blood-stained blade of screams, 

Then the ceaseless drone again 

If I could die for just a day or two 

Not sleep, let me die! 

Sleep: confused fingers twisting and tangling 

Bits of today and yesterday into disfigured dreams. 

No, I want death, like space and untracked snow silence. 

Let me die for just a day or two 

And then come back come back 

To see beauty in the blueness of the sky and 

The sparkle of stars, to hear music in voices, 

Feel pain in screams. 

Let me die for just a day or two 

And then come back again to liye. 



HEART SEASONS 

FRANCIS HERBERT BISHOP 

Death is 

A foreigner 

Who rides a bin-black horse, 

And lives in a country far 

Away he will never pass here, 

I will never 

See him. 

Death is 

Not a phantom 

He does not live far away 

Yesterday he came but he 

Was walking slowly and 

He turned in at 

My house. 

[62] 



A NIGHT NURSE'S PRAYER 

INA E. BLEVINS 

Lord, help me to close my eyes with conscience clean, 
Knowing as I go to sleep, that I have not been mean; 
Knowing that Thou in Thy goodness and in Thy great Love 
Have been watching over me from Thy Throne above. 
Help me, Lord, to be kind to those who come under my charge, 
Help me, that toward them my wisdom may be large. 
May I never alone, without Thy aid, direct and choose 
And cause some poor soul needless pain or abuse. 
For, Lord, I'm only a night nurse. 

Lord, I ask Thee to give me an unconfuscd brain, 
That I may surely and gently ease the patients' pain, 
That I may never in the darkness cf the night 
Omit one thing that should be brought to light. 
Cause my superiors who have charge over me 
To direct me honestly, that I too may be free 
To help and to guide others in Thy own sweet way. 
I thank Thee, Lord, as on my knees I pray. 

Make me humble, Lord, for I'm just a night nurse. 



TRAVELLING HOME 

MARY BOATMAN 

Speeding along the highway 
On your way to that place you call home- 
It's, oh, such a wonderful feeling, 
You resolve you'll never more roam. 

Speeding through towns and through cities, 
Riding o'er hills and through vales, 
Just dreaming of those who are waiting 
And whose love for you never fails. 

When your trip covers quite a long distance, 
And you ride on the bus quite a while, 
There is plenty of time for thinking 
As you travel on mile after mile. 

[63] 



Then you think of that beautiful road 
On which busses have never been, 
Where you hope to meet all of the worthy 
Regardless of kith or of kin. 

Then why shouldn't all types of people 
On their way to their home here below 
Give a few minutes" time to thinking 
Of that home where we all hope to go? 



MORNING PRAYER 

DOROTHY M. BOELTER 

O gracious Lord, we turn to Thee 
As we behold the morning skies; 
For loving care throughout the night 
We give Thee thanks before we rise. 

When nights are wakeful, long, and dark, 
Oh, how we welcome morning light! 
But sometimes darkness lingers, Lord, 
Within our souls from night to night. 

We pray for wisdom, faith, and love, 
And Thy protection through this day; 
We often faiL but lead us on 
Forgive our sins of yesterday. 

Within our souls let Thy light shine 
And help us live each day for Thee; 
That earthly life may soon become 
A foretaste of eternity. 

[64] 



DRIFTING 

MAE ELLA FAULKS BOLES 



Like ships far away from home 
Wandering minds often roam, 
Helpless in sin's awful snares. 
Jesus will help, for He cares. 

Yes, Jesus we need Thee 
To help our eyes to see. 
Save us from sin's woes 
For they are our greatest foes. 

Pilot our lives each day 
In Thine own Holy way. 
Help us our trials to endure, 
Help us to think things pure. 

Like storm-tossed ships at sea 
We must ever look to Thee. 
Yes, Thy great strength alone 
Can safely guide us home. 



EVENING SYMPHONY 

JUNE BOLMEIER 

The night is a symphony of stars 
With deep tone-shadows written through, 
And composed on the velvet score^sheet 
Of His Majesty's royal blue. 

The musical fantasy starts 
Ts the light beams grow faint and long; 
The moon breaking through a dark cloud 
Is the prelude to an evening song. 

The mantled curtain parts 
The magnificent hear and see 
Look! God put Himself in the splendour 
Of His evening symphony! 

[65] 



DREAM SAILING 

LEAH BORDNER 



I never sailed the blue seas, 
Yet in my Dreamland Boat, 

I've often gone availing 
Upon a starlit night; 

Old Lady Moon smiled on me 
And seemed so very gay, 

The trips were very pleasant, 
Much nicer than by day. 

The stars winked oh, so slyly 

I winked right back at them! 
I turned around and saw you, 

My heart was happiest then, 
For you got in the boat, dear, 

And sailed along with me, 
Along the midnight deeps, dear, 

Sailing the starlit sea. 



RECONNAISSANCE 

IDENA WALSTAD BORGESON 

I wonder when my call does come 

To cross that mystic sea, 

Will my soul cry, in anguish wrung, 

"What have you done to me? 

You kept me hidden all the while 

You played with life ..alone. 

Earth's joys you let your heart beguile. 

Tis I who must atone!" 

Or will it speak, in accents low, 

When part some day we must, 

"Life's work well done. To God I go. 

In Him you've put my trust." 

[66] 



DECEMBER 

LUMAN R. BOWDISH 

Keen is the clear deep vault of night, 
Far aslant at noon hangs dull the sun; 

From an avenging shadow sprite 

The daylight Nymphs seem forced to run. 

Tense frost the brooks of the mountain hold, 
The valley is smothered, enshrouded the lake; 

Wild blares the wind from Northern Pole, 

Warning winged stragglers the marsh to forsake 
For a sunnier clime. In tones of awe 

The shrill night voices carnival keep 
With the pale moon. Now Nature will draw 

Slumber robes hastily 'bout her form, 
And while she yields to the angel Sleep, 

Boreas molds the sullen storm. 



THE MAGIC TOUCH 

MIRIAM BOWMAN 

Great is the man 

Who sees greatness in another's soul 

And sets it free with his magic touch. 

He's like the sun 

That lifts the bud up 

To unfold in rare beauty; 

That's the great man's duty. 

A SONGSTRESS SANG 

ESTHER BOYCE 

Within a crowded concert hall 

A songstress sang; I soon forgot 

All the woes I thought I had. 

How small indeed they were 

Compared with all the never-dying lyrics 

That she so kindly gave us there. 

[67] 



I laughed, I danced, I sang, 
I watched the foreign campfires glow; 
I sat in pensive mood, resigned, 
Then up to win what should be mine. 
A maiden died before my eyes: 
i slumped and sighed, tears near the brini ; 
A tempest raged, the billows rolled; 
A lover to his lady crooned; 
\ baby heard a lullaby 
*\s evening shadows hovered near. 

"Twas done too soon; but when 'twas o'er 
1 went beneath the stars to stroll alone. 



PEACE 

MARY BENANDER BOYLES 

Peace is on a hillside, 

Where contented cattle rest, 
'Heath a giant shade tree, 

Where the brown thrush builds a nest. 

Peace is in the woodlands, 

Where nodding flowers bloom, 
Mirrored in the waters 

Of a sleeping blue lagoon. 

Peace is by a brook'side, 

Where the bull-frog pipes a song, 
Where minnows dive., and dart 

As they move along. 

Peace is in a cornfield, 

In the rustle of the leaves, 
Swaying in the sunshine 

Whispering in the breeze. 

[68] 



FAREWELL FROM BATAAN 

REVELA C. BOZMAN 



You did not say good-bye 

You were not there 
Yesterday when I left to meet 

My Saviour in the air. 

God has said in Heaven 

One thing I may not do: 
Just for while we're parted, 

I may not speak to you. 

Til ask your guardian angel 

To protect you and then 
Smooth the wrinkles from your brow 

Until we meet again. 

But He's promised I shall meet you 
As He opens Heaven's gate, 

And my darling, I am lonely 
As for you I watch and wait. 



A PRAYER FOR TEACHERS 

REV. A. E. BRADOW 

We pray for strength to teach Thy Word, 
For grace to learn of Thee, O Lord, 
How best to show Thy Holy Way 
To those we teach from day to day. 

We ask for patience, Lord, that we 
Thy little lambs may bring to Thee, 
Well fed and nourished by Thy Word, 
Believing what through us they've heard. 

We pray for pow'r to seek and win 
Each soul ensnared and gripped by sin. 
To loose them from the fearful hold, 
And safely bring them to Thy fold. 

[69] 



We ask for grace to show Thy love, 
And by our lives to point above 
The dross, and lust and earthly strife, 
To shining hope and endless life. 



REMEMBER PEARL HARBOR 

CORA RHODE BRADY 

Remember Pearl Harbor 

On that cold December day 

When hordes of earnest worshippers 

Prepared to mark the day 

That Christ was born in Bethlehem 

To save the world from sin. 

Remember the treacherous thunder 
That roared from a cloudless sky. 
Remember it was the Sabbath 
A holy day and why 
Such evil forces gathered 
A loved country's peace to mar 
And cast upon their nation contempt 
Forever, a heathen nation's share 
In God's own righteous judgment 
On a day to enter fair. 



A SUCCESS? 

LYDIA AGREE BRANDON 

Who dat? Why, dat's Mistuh Brown. 

Didn' yu' know he de riches' pusson in town? 

Yas suh, yas suh, he- own dat great big sto; 

Yas suh, de one wid de monstr'us glass do. 

Naw suh, dat aint all he got; 

Why, he own all de town up tuh dis spot. 

Yas suh, yas suh, he sho am uh big success. 

Why I scratch my haid? Well, he sho am, I guess. 

Yas suh, he jist boss evuhthing; 

[70] 



Yas suh, he de haid uv de pulitikil ring. 
Yas suh! He sho make yu toe de mahk. 
Effen yu doant pay de rent, out chu go in de dahk. 

Who dat? Why, lawsy, effen dat aint Mistuh Jim! 

Co'se, evuhbody know him! 

Naw suh, he aint what chu mout call prospus, 

But he sho" am mfty good tuh us! 

Yas suh, yas suh! dis niggah sho say postiv'ly. 

Dat he sho am quality! 

Naw suh! Aint no pusson evah tuhned down by Mistuh Jim, 

But chu see his paw was quality befo' him. 



DARK WANDERING 

RUTH BRANDON 

Somewhere between infinity and earth 
I must have failed to find 
The thread of human fellowship 
That binds all humankind. 

For a moment I poised frightened, 

Alone, a stranger on the reaches of the world, 

Without a star to guide me 

In a friendless chaos hurled 

Alone, uncertain, frightened 
In a vast and pathless world, 
With the years so dim before me 
Like a sooty serpent curled 

And then, full silently, I went 
Dark wandering down the years 
A solitary figure all intent 
Upon my icy pilgrimage of tears. 

[71] 



THE TRUANT 

TOMMIE BRANNICK 

I ran away from my mother, 
And played all night by the sea. 
The wild waves chased each other, 
And the stars shone down on me. 

The mermaids whispered their secrets; 
The shells sang me strange, sweet songs; 
The wind wailed wild sharp stories; 
And I listened all night long. 

My mother came in the dawning, 
When skies and sand dunes were gray: 
She seemed all frightened and worried, 
And led me back to the day. 



REST 

JULIA BRASHEAR 

There's rest in the hills of the west, 

Where the pine trees whisper, 

And the silver streams rustle by; 

Where the sun blesses all with its golden rays, 

There is the rest of the ages. 

Out in the west where everyone is a friend of man, 
Where the coyotes howl in the desert night, 
Where the gun is a symbol of law, 
Where stretches the golden desert sands, 
At the foot of the mountains tall. 

There in the west go and seek your rest, 

And you'll find it among the mountains, 

Across the desert's golden sand, 

In the coyote's howl and the 

Pine trees; whisper, you'll find a rest sublime. 

[72] 



PRELUDE IN OSHARP MINOR 
(Written after hearing Rachmaninoff play his composition.) 

EVELYN WYNN BREHM 

Hate! Vengeance! War! 
Wounded men, dying men, 
Cringing, crawling, lying men, 
Guns and gas, blood and blast 

Civilisation's iconoclast! 

Wage! Labor! Strife! 

Machinery roaring; commerce teeming; 

Ceaseless sirens screeching, screaming; 

Whirling, whistling, whining wheels 

Civilization's harvest fields! 

Silver money gold 
Gleaming eyes and grabbing schemes, 
Greed and graft and sickening scenes, 
All for money silver money gold 
Civilization's corroded mould! 

Fiercely, wildly, it goes "round and 'round; 
It's civilization in which mankind is drowned. 



SPRING IS HERE 

HAZEL G. STAGG BREMM 

Spring is in the air; and on the ground 
Apple blossom petals blow around. 
Pretty April idly strolling through the trees 
Invites the sleeping buds to waken and be leaves. 
Graceful willow trees hang delicate green laces 
Before ranvwashed lake windows; many places 
The earth, not content with carpets green, 
Used the blue of lupine and in between 
The gold of poppies. Baby lambs 

[73] 



Flipping their tails, ignore the rame, 
But nuzzle their mothers as they kneel. 
Baby pigs with curly tails grunt and squeal, 
And walk with the mincing steps of fat ladies 
On very high heels. The drone of bees, 
Mixing with the ache of lovely things, 
Is swelling my heart until it sings 
Of God's own promise of future cheer. 
Spring is here! Spring is here! 



FORTITUDE 

HELEN MARIE BRENNAN 



Into combat now 
I shall enter straight 
Confident 
Of a gracious fate. 
How lags my soul 
When it surely knows 
It can only go 
Where my angel goes? 
How can I yield 
To rebellion wild 
Who am forever 
Mary's child? 
Though fighting evil 
That sears and taints 
How can I fail 
Who know the saints? 
And however sharp 
Temptation's prod 
Need I ever fear 
Whose friend is God? 

[74] 



REPRESSION 

ELIZABETH BRYAN BREWER 



In the soft sad glow 
Of a brave blue candle 
Sits one who 
Pens lyrics 

To a forgotten love 
Romances of swift abeyance. 
The light of lost youth 
Feverishly haunts 
The too sad eyes. 
The brave flame 
Etches shadows 
Shadows that show 
What youth expressed 
Might have been: 
What youth denied 
Will be. 
Brightening it 
Illuminates brave revolt 
Sinking it shows 
Desperate despair. 
But shed no tear. 
Nature is no egoist. 
Life goes on-- 



GOD BLESS CHRISTMAS 

MILDRED BRICKELL 

God bless Christmas! 

God bless the day! 

God bless the prayers of those who pray! 

God bless all men wherever they be! 

God bless Christmas 

And God bless me! 

[75] 



God bless Mary tender and fair 

God bless the Baby, sleeping there 

God bless the manger, and every beast 

God bless the Wise Men, who came from the East. 

God bless Joseph, and fathers all 

God bless the children whose needs they call! 

God bless the Star and the Christmas tree! 

God bless Christmas, and God bless me! 

God bless the Shepherds, watching by night 

God bless the Angels, and God bless the Light! 

God bless the Carols that flooded the sky! 

God bless the Bells, that pealed on high! 

God bless Christmas! 

God bless the day! 

Godbless the hearts of those who pray! 

God bless all men wherever they be! 

God bless Christmas 

And God bless me! 



THE GREAT ARTIST 

CULA BRICKEY 

He lays His crystal canvas 

Across the earth's broad easel. 

In lively strokes 

He swishes and swirls His paint 

Here and there 

Deftly, swiftly, rhythmically, 

He works in tones of light and shadow. 
The trees are feather^edged in snow, 
Twilight hangs like neon daylight in a glow, 
Brightening nearby hill and sky above; 
The miracle of darkness, reflecting light. 
On silent feet, the antlercd buck and his doe 
Quickly come and go, 
Unafraid 

[76] 



Of the Artist as He gaily works 

With flickering shadows, thrown by trees 

Across a winding road, that leads to neighbor's door. 

Beyond the door, the soul of man 

Is warm and safe. 

So, the Artist smiles 

Now on His finishing strokes, 

And rolls His lamp wick up 

To shed its silver rays 

Unbroken 

Upon His legacy bestowed! 



I WAS ONCE A WEARY PILGRIM 

MARY BRIDGERS 

I was once a weary pilgrim 
In the dreary walk of Life, 
Traveling downward toward conclusion, 
To a failure of a life. 

I was once with sorrow laden, 
, With a heart as cold as stone, 
When a gentle arm came round me 
And a voice, "Thou art Mine own!" 

Then the weary load fell from me, 
And my heart had ceased to fear, 
Knowing Satan had no power 
With my blessed Saviour near. 

And I know that when He calls me 
To cross Death's dark swelling tide, 
I shall have no cause to dread it, 
Jesus will be by my side. 



[77] 



MEMORY 

ANNE S. BRIGHAM 
I 

I tried to stop remembering you at first, 
And it was hard; the memory was so new, 
Clear like a woodland pool which mirrors true 
Each feathered branch till the reflected tree 
Seems much more real than bough and leaf above. 
It had the brightness of a summer's day. 
How then remembering every word you said, 
Yoru face, your voice, could I believe you gone 
Forever from me? 

And then the memory dulled. 
The image in the pool grew dim as if 
The skies above were overclouded now 
Or passing ripples stirred the pictured calm. 
The memory dulled perhaps because I had 
Gone over it too much for memory is 
A treacherous, vanishing thing. 



II 

I longed for peace and shelter from the storm 
And thought that I could find it if once more 
I saw the sea its crashing on the rocks, 
And never people who might say your name. 
I sought the field where grew one gnarled tree 
The grasses windblown on a hill. But you 
Were everywhere I went in field and wood. 
For here we sat to watch the stars and clouds, 
And up upon the hill path by the lake 
I half expect to meet our very ghosts 
Who walk together in the summer dusk 
Where now I touch the crisped-up edges of 
The reddened leaves. 

[78] 



EMPTY PRAYER 

CONSTANCE STARR BROCK 



What good are tears, 

They go so quickly. 

They can not 

Cover all my hurt 

Or even feel like 

Cooling water 

That makes dry leaves 

Grow green again. 

This time 

You are not all to blame. 

The weakness lies on 

My side now. 

I wanted to believe 

Your love 

And so I saw no other thing. 

Now I must 

Feel the heavy sadness 

Of losing what 

I wanted most. 

And I must wait 

Like quiet water 

And you will 

Never know my pain 

For after all you promised 

Nothing 

And nothing is an empty 

Prayer. 



A GHOST STORY 

ALICE DENNIS BROCKLEY 

There are ghosts abroad tonight! 

So plainly do I see them, 

I can almost reach and touch them. 

[79] 



The hills are black, 
The moon is white, 
There are ghosts abroad tonight. 

They cluster 'round the sunken drit: 

I know that they are there; 

I sense their presence in the air! 

There is so much of death, 

For here with gasping breath 

Hope died in the sunken drift. 

Where is he who gave it birth? 
Is there a buried heart and soul 
In this sunken prospect hole? 
Are those knotted hands at rest 
Folded on a boney chest? 
Did he get a just reward on earth? 

The ghosts don't want to tell! 
They flutter 'round the silent tomb 
And the air is filled with gloom. 
The trees and streams won't say a word- 
Like as not they never heard, 
And I will never know! Just as well! 



AUTUMN REVERIE 

BUBBLES BROWN 

Haunting odor; 

Lonesome feeling, 

Yet a consciousness of peace, 

On a quiet autumn "evening 

Memories that never cease. 

As I sit and think with longing 

On the happy days gone by, 

It is as the summer evenings, 

Others will be lingering nigh; 

[80] 



Others who fill the vacant places 
Of the friends who now are gone; 
Yet as I gaze upon new faces 
Memories of old ones linger on. 
Some are sad and others happy, 
Some are poignant, others faint, 
And as I gaze upon them mutely, 
Put them away with some restraint 
"Til some other Autumn evening 
They come like an old refrain, 
'Til at last Fve gone to join them, 
Free at length from toil and pain. 



MY DREAM 

FLORENCE REED BROWN 

I sat down in my old arm chair 

To pause for a moment from worry and care. 

And, as I sat there, I fell asleep, 

Then suddenly I began to weep. 

A hand laid gently on my head, 

And a voice I well remember said: 

"Why those tears, and why so sad, 

You who were always so merry and glad?" 

"Oh! Mother you have come back to me, 
You always could help and of comfort be, 
So Fll tell you why I shed these tears, 
Tell you of all my sorrows and fears. 

"My children have grown and gone away, 
And they won't be with me on my birthday. 
The things of the world absorb their time, 
They seldom think of their childhood's shrine." 

[81] 



Unrestrained, I began to cry, 

And her sweet voice said, "There's no reason why 

You should grieve and feel so sad, 

Things are really not so bad. 

"With aching heart and weary feet 
Fve gone to work with nothing to eat. 
Often without food Fd do 
That there'd be bread and milk for you/ 11 

Another spirit entered the room 
And said, "Why all this sorrow and gloom? 
You have paid the penalty, as many another 
For the privilege of being a mother. 11 

Then the great Mother said, "I have stood beside 
A cross where my son was crucified. 
Great nails were driven through his hands and feet 
A heartbreaking scene for a Mother's eyes to meet. 



BLUE HERONS 

GAVE BROWN 

Blue herons 

Flying over a lake 

At dusk 

Bring sadness to my heart. 

And my soul grieves 

For all the countless times 

They flew this way 

And no one saw. 



STALINGRAD 

JEROME KING BROWN 

Deep etched within the hopes of all mankind; 
Writ down in human blood and sweat and tears; 
Cried out by men whose deeds transcend the years; 

[82] 



By deaths of countless men forever signed; 

Above all thought of men to valor blind 

Through prejudice to baseless hopes and fears; 

The works of whom the enemy reveres, 

And can not to oblivion be consigned: 

For you, who stood 'gainst might of tank and plane; 

For you, to whose glory man can never add; 

For you, a symbol that can not be slain; 

For you, in freedom's matchless courage clad; 

For you, who staked your life that peace might reign: 

For you we pledge our lives, Oh Stalingrad! 



LESSONS FROM LIFE 

MAUD MONTGOMERY BROWN 

The roses are red by the garden wall 

One by one they fade and fall, 
Each one seeming to represent 

The Will of the Maker by whom it was sent. 

The swallows wheel slowly around the old barn, 

Seeking for seeds o'er hill and tarn. 
Knowing full well He will supply 

Everything good as the days go by. 

Our lives clearly show a slow design 

Patterned by years in tracery fine 
A tapestried web of joy and sorrows, 

Of sad todays and gay tomorrows. 
Ah, do they really represent 

The Will of the Father by whom they were lent? 



WHO COULD KNOW 

MARY JOHN BROWN 

She walked sedately down the street 

A thin gangling girl with short brown hair, 

[83] 



And eyes too big, in a face too drab. 
But who could know, 
As she did know, 
That she rode a gallant charger 
Behind a wonderful prince, 
And her hair was long and golden, 
And her eyes were filled with mists. 
Her clothes were silver and satin 
And her voice the sound of a flute. 
But who could know, 
As the little girl knew, 
That all these things were true, 
For she walked sedately down the street, 
A thin, gangling girl with short brown hair, 

And eyes too big, in a face too drab. 



I PRAYED 

R. VERNON BROWN 

I prayed tonight, 

And from my soul arose the heartaches of another day 

To drift away 

Like giant clouds which pour forth showers of billowy peace, 

Twas sweet to ask forgiveness . . . 

"Twas joy that did not fade . . . 

Tomorrow will be beautiful, 

Because 

Tonight, I prayed. 



MY LAMP 

STELLA CLARK BROWN 

I looked to the hills one morning in May, 

With a song in my heart, and I wanted to pray 

And thank God for this beautiful earth, 

With life's joy and gladness, its laughter and mirth; 

[84] 



And, too, I would thank Him for sun after rain, 

Joy after sorrow, peace after pain. 

These thoughts came to me while cleaning the lamp, 

That we might have light at our summer camp; 

And I said, "Is the lamp of my life shining bright, 

That others may know 1 have found that true light 

Which shines on our pathway along life's long road, 

That leads us at last to that hlsesed abode?" 

So, away to the hills I looked once more 

And said, "Father, forgive where Fve erred before, 

Help me keep my lamp bright forevcrmorc." 



DEFINITION 

PHILIP L. BROWNE 

To me, 

Morning dew, 

Bright sunlight through my window, 
The happy chirping of the robins 
Are you. 

To me, 

Afternoon, 

The glint of golden tresses, 
Clinging lovers, hand in hand, 
Are you. 

To me, 

Quiet dusk, 

The rustle of the cedar, 

And distant bleat of baby lamb 

Are you. 

To me, 

Hushed evening, 

The warmth of your lips, 

And a thousand twinkling windows 

Are you. 



[85] 



To me, 

Still night, 

The lovely chimes of Beaumont, 

And my sweet sleep of soft exhaustion 

Are you. 



ILLUSION AT SUNRISE 

ANNE DODSON BUCK 

Looking wistfully through her window, 

One clear morning in June, 

She was filled with wonderment, 

With sheer delight, 

To see sprinkled near her door, 

What seemed diamonds of white, pale blue, 

And amber shades each one ablaze 

In the early morning light. 

What had done this magical thing of the night? 

Sown jewels at her door, 

And transformed grass into diamond sprays? 

Nature had done this wonderful thing. 

She steals softly to our grounds by night, 

Sprinkles the grass with sparkling jewels, 

Or perhaps opens a blossom, 

Showing its color, 

Sprinkling each petal with dewdrops, 

Leaving us to our amazement, admiration 

And moments of keenest delight! 



SWAN SONG 

VERA CALDWELL BUFKIN 

I know that there will come a day 
When life will cease for me. 
Til miss it all each little part 
But so the world must be. 

[86] 



Ill miss the snow, the soft warm rain, 
The wind that mussed my hair. 
And there are times, I must admit, 
It doesn't seem quite fair. 

Fll miss the flowers, the songs of birds, 
The spring in early May. 
But even more than this Til miss 
The smell of new mown hay. 

I'm sure Fll miss the sun and moon 
And too, the great North Star. 
And then, as now, I know that they 
Will still seem much too far. 

Til hate to leave the sea, the streams, 
The lakes that lap the shore. 
It's hard to think Fll never sec 
The mountains any more. 

But I suppose Fll miss the plains 
Just every bit as much. 
I can't forget the desert land 
For it's another touch. 

It's true I'll miss the arts and science 
And things that I've been taught. 
I've lived, I've loved and haven't spent 
My life for simply naught. 

The reason though, Fll hate to go 
To make that one last train 
Is just because I'll never see 
Chicago's towers again. 

AFTERTHOUGHTS 

LOIS BURCH 

I have loved always 

The velvet of moth wings, 

[87] 



The fluffy white of falling snow, 
And the voice of a bird that sings. 

I have loved always 
Wild daisies growing by a brook, 
The powder of buttercup gold- 
Purple violets hidden in a nook. 

I have loved always 

The feel of mist and rain, 

The wind's early morning caress; 

Meadows of clover and fields of grain. 

I have loved always 
The blooming of phlox in May, 
And the friendly twinkling of stars 
In the twilight's gray. 

I have loved always 

The sweet memories of the years; 

And my cherished faith in a just God, 

Who calmed my life fears. 



PUSSY-WILLOWS 

INA FLOSSIE BURDETT 

Do you remember the pussy-willows sunning 

On bare branches among birds in the early spring air? 

Do you remember their silvery gray furring? 

Then you would know what the fairies will wear! 

But if you forget all the magic of springtime 
For you there will be no bluegird of happiness. 

A King Midas enchantment enshrouds your poor heart, 
And yours is a case for the May Queen's redress! 

[88] 



CONFESSIONS 

MILDRED BENNETT BURLEW 

I start the day off happily 

By springing out of bed. 

At the kitchen door, I'm gay no more 

I forgot to order bread. 

A part of me just me be gypsy 
The lure of roads does so appeal. 
And new spring air makes me so tipsy, 
I take strange corners on one wheel. 

I got a red hot tip today 
About a certain pony, 
But when the evening paper came 
It made the tip look phony. 

I go to piano recitals, 

I listen to one, two, or three, 

But when my own darling's through playing, 

The show is all over for me. 

I'm sitting by the telephone 
Why won't the darn thing ring? 
Just one quick call, a certain voice 
Would make my whole day sing. 

Fm learning how to drive a car 
A husband's teaching me. 
I'm doing fine, you'd be surprised 
'Cause he's not mine, you see. 

I ought to be up and doing 
With a heart for any fate, 
But I love the 'stravagant feeling 
Of bed, at half past eight. 



[89] 



PORGY AND BESS 

LOUISE K. BURPEE 

And there are mists above the city and smoke below 

The people pass and time stands still 

And the steeples of the churches reel in the mist 

The square buildings lose their strength 

And the drifting, coral mist flickers above New York. 

There are yellow lines of light on the pavements 

And white streaks, moving, shifting in the street. 

And the city lies oppressed and breathing heavily 

Strangled by the coral mist. 

Now the push of the crowd through doors too narrow - 

The feel of fur, satin, heavy tweed against damp hands 

The rush of human smell 

The secret being unfolded 

The curtains lifted and faces singing: 

"Summertime, when the livin' is easy " 

And the faces blur in a dull brown 
And fall into each other, moving in wild truth 
And figures plunge with oaths and knives and songs 
Killing in their hands and melodies in their souls. 
And the heart is torn and figures become double 

When seen through tears. 

Then the strong end, with hope 

With uplifted head, with sweaty brows 

With music that hurts too much. 

The press of the crowd again 

The streaks of white light. 

The window is opened and the mist rushes in 

Entangling its heavy fingers in my hair. 

The sky is coral and the buildings disappear in mist 

The places are dark 

The light places dotted geometrically 

And the mists hurts my heart. 

[90] 



And a person speaks and asks 

But no answer the mind has left the shell 

Becoming the whirlpool of the soul 

Thinking, thinking, rotating. 

And they talk about how miserable it is 

And close the windows: 

"There's been no snow and Fm glad. 

I hate the mist." 

The poor laugh, the rich cry and I 

I weep for the troubles of people 

The troubles of people, the troubles of people- 

The rich cry and the poor laugh 

And the gallant face with the brave eyes 

Swims in the mist. 

But the people forget that he swims there 

So quiet, for only me to see 

And people forget the melodies, the killings 

The heart thrillings of the secret. 

They know it now; it's exciting no more. 

And the brown faces fade 

The face sinks in the mist 

Yellow lines streak the pavement 

The talk continues 

And time begins once more. 

And the mists above the city are coral. 

The smoke below the city is gray, dull. 

And we continue in its pallor. 



MY HERITAGE 

ZELMA E. BURRIS 

The gorgeous sunsets ever will recall your smiling face 
As you stood beside the kitchen range and coaxed me 
To leave the household cares and go with you 
To stand in adoration of the glorious ending of the day. 
But I refused! 



[91] 



I was a Martha then, 

I had not learned to be a Mary and to choose the better 

things of life. 
Now you are gone! 

I never can leave petty things of life behind 
And hand in hand with you behold the wonders of God's love. 
But I shall profit by my past mistake, dear friend, 
Your message shall live on! 
For now that I have learned the better way 
I'll take my little son, your namesake dear, 
And hand in hand from yonder hilltop we 
Will watch the sunrise, God's promise of another day. 
And as the pastel colors change through all the rainbow hues 
To burst at last into the glory of the day, 
We'll look beyond the beauteous handiwork 
To Him whose gift to humans here below 
Bids us "Look up," 

Then as we turn and face the downward slope of life 
The glorious sunset in all its rosy hues 
Will beckon us on. 

And though we know the perfect day will soon be ended 
And that our humble lives are nearly done 
We'll march triumphant to the door of Heaven 
Knowing full well we'll hear the Master say: "Well done!" 

SKILLFUL HANDb 

MAYRE DALY BUSICK 

I watched an infant newly born 

In the gray shadows of early morn; 

I heard its first feeble cry, 

And the mother's happy sigh. 

I saw a school'boy's broken arm; 

I told the mother there was no harm; 

The fearful pain wouldn't last, 

The arm would soon mend in a cast. 

I watched a patient's labored breath 

As she came from the shadow of death 

And echoed the prayer of many lands: 

God bless the doctor's skillful hands. 

[92] 



TO T. 

AUGUSTA FOSTER BUTLER 

Oh! I would shake the stars from out the sky 

If by their falling I might blind 

My eye to this mad vision that I hold! 

In desperation cause the winds to blow, 

And bring from every branch on earth the leaves, 

In hopes their rustle might become a roar 

To drown the whisper of my heart to yours! 

From East to West, Fd level hills, and call 

The waves to leap the shore, and sweep the land 

From pole to pole! But out of chaos there 

Would rise another world! The broken bits 

Would weld again, re-shape, and form anew 

A world that is of nothing but the sight, 

The sound, the brightness that is you! 



LIFE 

CHARLES REDDEN BUTLER, JR. 

When I behold the flowers of the earth, 

The twinkling stars at night and moon on high, 

And seek to know whence came their mystic birth, 
And ponder o'er the blue within the sky, 

And seek to understand the song of spring, 
Know the last flake that falls upon the wall, 

Number the flocks northbound upon the wing, 
I can but thank the One Who made it all, 

Thank Him and rest content within the thought 
'Tis not for me to question God but in 

His love to live at peace with all He's wrought, 
Thus having lived to know Him as my Friend. 



[93] 



BOOKS 

MARIE M. BUTLER 

If you only knew, when the sun goes down, 

What we boys in a far-off land 

Would give for the look of a friendly book 

Like the clasp of a friendly hand, 

You would search through your attic, your libraries fine, 

You would choose of your books the best, 

Tales that stir with an upward touch, 

Stories we'll read with a zest. 

Those boxes of books that the children sent 

Were as roses from heaven above; 

They're scattered from Iceland to Singapore, 

And they come from the kids we love. 

In arctic cabin, in jungle hut, 

On a winding road 'neath a tree, 

On the sand of the desert, in China's hills, 

The books are hailed with glee. 

Perhaps some books that you've prized too much 

Would bring you far more joy, 

If you'd pack them well and send them away 

To be shared with "somebody's boy." 

For when we know that the hearts at home 

Are "with us" in every campaign, 

We'll fight to the finish, and see the world free, 

And then we'll be home again. 

MUSIC 

RUTH ANN BUTTLER 

Soul penetrating, uafathomable 
Mystic blendings of sound 
Inspired by some inner being 
That moves the heartstrings 
Ethereal notes in sublime succession 
That vary with the Maker's mood - 
Music, to exalt the spirit of mankind. 

[94] 



WEIRD ISLE 

ROY A. BYERLEY, SR. 

Fd wandered many a lonely, weary mile 
Alone with Psyche my soul all the while, 
Crossing many weird valleys 
And sailing on phantom galleys, 
When all at once I came face to face 
In a lonely valley of Trace 
With a ghoul from Weird Isle. 

He was tall, lean and gaunt, 

His eyes seem to want 

But missed the beauty in the evening light, 

And his hands were as cold as a winter night. 

This grim, ungainly, ghastly ghoul 

Haunted my very soul, 

And I cared not to follow him to my goal. 

I knew not the night of the year 

When I was placed upon the bier, 

But we sailed on through the night 

On a sea of mystic light, 

On past the moon, 

On through the Valley of Gloom, 

On by the door of an enchanted tomb. 

My heart was ebbing all the while 
We were sailing toward Weird Isle, 
The land of shrouded lore. 
But I reached not her shore. 
For o'er the way there came a gleaming, 
And I knew that I was dreaming- 
Dreaming, and nothing more. 

No dreaming will there be 

When I embark upon the Mystic Sea. 



[95] 



THE TENTH BEATITUDE 

RUBY BRYAN BYERLEY 

A friend came into our midst, 
Who heard, who saw and realized 
A battle being fought 
And came a blessing in disguise. 

He was fearless of the cost; 
Much sympathy he gave. 
His reputation was at stake, 
But a life he fought to save. 

Kind Angels, when he is called 

From his earthly home to one on high, 

Let him always minister 

In the land where they never die. 

And if he seems a little tired 

And wanders off to a haven of rest, 

Fold your wings o'er his tired and happy life - 

He was tried and found to pass the test. 

Blessed is he whose light doth shine- 
For it was said in olden times, 
"Cast thy bread upon the waters" and see 
All returned, even through eternity. 



LA MUSIQUE 

RICHARD HARDING BYRD 



Music, like rippling water, 

Music, like rustling leaves, 

Music, like bellowing cannon, 

Music, like dripping eaves, 

Music, like lengthening shadows, 

Music, like bursting morn, 

[96] 



Music, like waving wheat heads, 
Music, like tassling corn, 
Music,, mind's shining dream, 
Music, a throbbing creation, 
Music, rising from heart and soul 
To be man's exaltation. 



POSSIBILITIES 

MARY CAIN 

They said that Bill was bad, an awful boy; 
Of pranks and scrapes he never seemed to tire: 
To try some brand new joke was half his joy, 
And nothing could his hapless soul inspire. 

Yet underneath that rough and wayward mien 
There dwelt a spirit rare, a subtle charm; 
A strength whereon his buddy, weak, might lean 
To brace his courage for the coming storm. 

He'd never do a mean and sneaky trick, 
Those clear gray eyes would blaze in scorn at such; 
Though there were scores of boys that he could lick, 
He never was the one to boast so much. 

The years passed by, and Bill grew up they say, 

To me hell always be a little boy. 

I saw him at the time he went away, 

A volunteer, his country's pride and joy, 

Across the sea our Bill has gone to fight; 
Unflinchingly he'll face the desperate foe: 
He'll do his share to press the cause of right, 
Our little school boy of the long ago. 

Dear Lord, we tremble in this fearful hour, 

For childhood's precious possibilities 

The Bills, and Toms, and Sues, oh, by Thy power, 

Watch o'er and keep them for Thy use and praise. 

[97] 



ECSTASY 

PEARL CAREY 

"MIRANDA! 

Come let's walk to the top of yon hill and view the sun. 

Tis like a ball of molten iron, gleaming forth on the 

brink of the horizon, 
Glaring, streaming, dripping huge tears of burning ore." 

Miranda came, knowing too well that she dare not spill one thought 

that was begun. 

Following the tall trance'enclosed figure, she stumbled 
over ravines that his elevated Spirit seemed to soar. 

"What is its power? 
Miranda, speak." 

"'Tis perhaps the throne of God, my love." 

Her voice quivered, as she spoke of things so Divine 

yet, the rapture that radiated from his face, was quite enough. 

"Ah! 'tis so. 

Is it not said that he shines forth such radiance that man can not 

behold? 

Then it must be He. 

God the Divine, the Light, the source of all things, 
God the son, Sun? 
God is God, the Son is God, 
God is Sun 
MIRANDA" 
"Yes, my love." 
"That is its power." 

His limp figure slowly settled to the ground, and he looked about 

him as if bewildered, then 
"MIRANDA! " 
the ground, it's covered with flint, look, why they're arrows, mil lions 

of them. 
A battle must have been fought upon this hill." 

"Yes, many years ago, my love." 
[98] 



"'Tis a tragic thought, Miranda. 

The Indian peoples, free, happy, in a world of peace; 

Then to have that world shattered stolen, and destroyed by the 

progress of man? 
'Tis not just, Miranda/' 

"That is true, my love." 
"Then why?*' 

"'Tis the natural law of man. Man is forever seeking better things 
'tis a restless Spirit that drives him, and inspires him to move, 
to create, to acquire and destroy." 

"Then Miranda; man is a cell through which God works; when in 

harmony, there's peace. 
When diseased, 

God stirs him to restlessness, as a warning perhaps, 
Miranda?" 
"Yes, my love." 
"Then, that is Faith." 



IF FOR SICK NURSES 
(With apologies to Mr. Kipling and hopes of pardon.) 

MARGARET VICKREY CARLSON 

If you can lie quietly in a hospital bed 

While other nurses are rushing to and fro; 

If you can follow strictly the doctor's orders 

And never ask why and when and so and so, 

If you can breathe deeply under an ether cone 

Yet retain a professional dignity and the manners you 

learned at home; 

If later when the thrilling "gas pains" rage 
You can keep smiling and really "act your age" 



[99] 



If you can take all your treatments, every one 
Pretending that nothing could be more fun; 
If you can see splints and plaster paris headed your way, 
And refrain from telling the student nurses just what to 

do and where to stay. 
If you can have the murphy drip 
Served in place of your dinner tray, 
And say, "Oh never mind, I rather like it that way"-- 
When you go for a metabolic test 
In the wheel chair or on the "cart/' 1 
If you can act as though chewing rubber 
And having your nose pinched are of the highest art; 

If you can take your wash water, 

When the night and day divide; 

If you can wash a while, take a nap, 

If you can lie "perfectly quiet" like dead, 

While the electric cardiograph bu^es at your head 

If when in the middle of a nap 

The laboratory "tech" comes breeding in, 

You can grin and say "Sure go ahead, 

What arc a few cc. of blood among friends " 

If you can greet a stranger as a caller with a smile, 

When you long to give a groan of woe; 

If you can accept the leftover flowers, 

From the dead or who knows; 

If you can listen to the wonders of faith cures, 

And "stat" swallow the bitter dose or perhaps a pill; 

You are sure to get well my dear, 

And never doubt you will. 



TWO PATHS 

MR. REX CARR 

There arc two sides to every question, 

You hear each person say, 
As there are two paths to travel - 

The right and the wrong way. 

[100] 



I wonder which path you follow, 

Or do you stop to care? 
Have you forgotten our Saviour 

And the place in His heart that we share? 

He is waiting at the end of one path 
Satan is at the end of one, too. 

Both will greet you with open arms 

When your days on earth are through. 

The Lord will make you happy forever 
Torture is the promise of the Devil. 

It will be too late to change your path 

When your body lies beneath earth's level. 



THERE SHALL BE A LIGHT 

DOROTHY C. CARRIER 

As darkness descends upon the world, 
And Right is threatened by Might, 
There is no need to feel despair, 
For there shall be a Light. 

See it softly shining 

In the Watchtowcr of the world 

In the very midst of war's dread gloom, 

The Torch of Light is hurled. 

Its gleam is like a challenge 

To the dreaded Prince of Night. 

Don't give up hope, the Dawn will come, 

And there shall be a Light. 

There shall be no night to daunt us, 
The Dove of Peace will alight. 
The blackness of war will fade away, 
And there shall be a Light. 

[101] 



THIS TOO SHALL PASS AWAY 

DORIS CARRINGTON 

I am a bomb. 

Today I shall destroy a great cathedral. 
My brothers, likewise, will destroy 
Hospitals, churches, schools, and homes. 
Only worthless fragments remain 
When our work is done. 

I am a bomb. 

I should be proud that I am able to obliterate all things 

No matter what the sise or worth; 

That ancient edifices shall be no more 

When my work is done. 

I am a bomb. 

I laugh to think that so much faith is placed in me. 

For I can not conquer all 

One adversary still remains untouched, unharmed, 

When my work is done. 

I am a bomb. 

I know that I have only temporary power, 

For there is something in the heart of man, 

Something great, something strong 

Some call it love of God, 

Some love of beauty, or freedom. 

But by whatever name I only know 

It enables man to rebuild the pieces that remain 

When my work is done. 

It constantly defies me, 

It rises against me 

And plainly shows the futility of my labors. 

That is why I laugh when you place faith in me. 

I am only a bomb. 

[102] 



GOD'S HAND 

LUCILLE JU ANITA CARROLL 

Awake, thou child of God 
To see the gentle beauty of nature; 
Grass, dew-pearled with droplets, 
Water mumbling within peaceful brooks, 
Trees reaching their mighty arms outward 
Protecting insects, tiny flowers. 
Awake, thou beautiful dreamer 
And see how perfect is Thy Maker. 



THE BROKEN CHAIN 

MARY E. CARROLL 

Another chain in my life is broken, 
And again I must say good-bye. 
To you I leave the link as a token 
I hope we meet again ere we die. 

Friendship is the link I leave you 
The happy days Fll never forget. 
Though saying good-bye makes me blue, 
I will never be sorry that we met. 

Looking over the links in after years, 

I can see you in my dreams. 

Though I know that it will bring bitter tears, 

It will be like the golden sunbeams. 



[103} 



KWAN-YIN 

(Goddess of Mercy) 

DOROTHY CARTER 

I hold a bit of cherry-wood 
Carved with infinite patience 
By an old man in China 
An old man with seamed face 
Whose beady eyes see a vision 
As old as his ancient race. 

It fits easily within my hand, 

The Goddess of Mercy from that far-off land. 

With thrilling, mystic rhythm 

Her miniature figure seems to sway 

Gently, tirelessly as a mother would 

\Vho quieting her frightened babe begins to pray. 

Oh, Goddess of Mercy, and you, Old Man, 

What secret do you know 

You from that tortured land? 

Tell us! Reveal it, now, I plead, 

That we, too, may know 

And about our daily tasks continue to go, 

Forgiving and undismayed, 

Confident that in time this war will cease, 

And all races of man will live together again in peace! 



HILLS AWAY 

MANFRED A. CARTER 

I climbed the leaden hills 

That reeked with dusty sage; 
I yearned for living trees of green 
Where rivers mark the desert page 
I hated all the rising heat; 
I wanted just to wash my feet. 

[104] 



Until I rode away 

I used to think them blue; 
But now I see the hills afar, 
Gold, green, and purple too; 

God's hills as far as I can stare 
God's purple cloak for evening wear. 



STARDUST 

SUSAN E. CARTER 

I dreamed I roamed among the stars with you, 
Through magic, unseen pathways hand-in-hand, 
Celestial Stardust made the only clouds, 
Our brightest dreams shone clearer, close at hand. 

That night the great Omnipotence had shared 
With us his countless worlds of golden fire; 
The singing stars, majestic planets, all 
Swung to our will, obeyed our least desire. 

When radiant morning touched the depths of space, 
The heavenly wonder faded at her light; 
And we, dethroned kings, went winging down, 
The vision glorious vanished with the night. 

And now the stars are very far away, 
A'twinklc coldly in the distant skies. 
Yet surely it could not have been a dream, 
For, dear, I see the Stardust in your eyes. 



SIMPLICITY 

ROSALINE KIRKPATRICK CASSIDY 

1 could not bear the weight of dragging years 

That overflow in sighs and salty tears; 

I could not brook the thrust of crowding joys 



[105] 



To pierce the passive shield my mind deploys; 

I could not in the current keep afloat 

In my own, all too fragile, boat; 

I could not at the close of earthly life 

Lie down and say, "Come, Death, the knife T- 
I could not at the utmost face the grave, 
Had I not faith in God my soul to save. 



DARK HOURS 

STANLEY CAST 

The night, the blackout, then the raid, 
We've shed some tears, are we afraid? 
Are we afraid of the sullen roar 
Of enemy bombers near our shore? 
And screaming sirens that foretell 
Shocking destruction and imminent hell? 
No, for our eyes though wet with tears, 
Can see the answer to our fears 
In the answering eyes of those we love, 
Who pray to the powers there above 
To love and protect us through this strife 
And give the reward of eternal life. 



NIGHT THOUGHTS AND MEMORIES 

B. ELISABETH CAVAN 

The memory of you comes like a gentle refreshing wind that relieves 
the stifling of my heart which has long felt the need of clean 
fresh winds. 

Remembering is no effort. So many lovely things to recall 
Your voice, your songs, your presence alone gave peacefulness to 
many hours. 

[106] 



With you I could be free no pretense, no being cautious no 

afraid. 

Even in silence I felt you understood my mood. 
In silence our very hearts did mingle and dream together; no words. 

were spoken, yet, each knew what would have been said had we 

given voice to our thoughts, our dreams. 

Better than the minting of a gold-crowned \ing 
Is the safe'\ept memory of a lovely thing. 



IT HAS BEEN NICE 

THOMAS A. CHADSEY 



It has been nice 

To dwell upon the earth; 
To love and honor those, 

The ones who gave us birth. 

To rise up when 

The sun begins to peep 

Upon a lush, green earth, 
Where people lie asleep. 

To see the days 

Pass swiftly from our sight, 
And stars appear above 

To welcome in the night. 

To see life pass 

Before our wondering eyes; 
The figures on the Stage, 

With sorrow, laughs and sighs. 
To see the sights 

Of Nature and of God; 
The glories of the sea, 

The wonders of the sod. 



[107] 



The wonders, too, 

That man alone has made, 
To better man and life, 

With science as an aid. 

And then I saw, 

That while I mused on men, 
So had Life mused on me 

And there appeared the end. 

And now my soul 

Shall take its place with God; 
Wliile my poor shell of life 

Rests calmly "neath the sod. 



THE PAINTER 

ALICE J. CHAFFEE 

As I look at the sky to the westward, 
A beautiful picture I see- 
There are islands and beautiful cities, 
There are mountains and rolling seas; 

There's a wonderful glory transcending 
The whole of the scene I behold 
And the tress in the forest I picture 
Have leaves that are outlined with gold. 

"Pis surely a marvelous painter 
WTiose brush can make colors so grand, 
That glow with such mystical brightness, 
Changing all of the picture at hand 
Into one great conception of Heaven 
As we can imagine it's planned. 

[108] 



But look, how the scene is changing 

A gentle wind seems unfurled 

To make over all of my picture 

And change scenes in my sunset world. 

The mountains become a deep purple, 
Fluffy ships sail away on the breeze; 
Cities melt in the mist of the cloudland. 
Who's the painter o f scenes like these? 

I watch till my picture has faded 
And feel in my mind I have trod 
In a beautiful picture of Heaven 
Whose maker and painter is God. 



OUR FLAG 

MARGARET CHAMBERS 

This is our flag, the grand old flag, 

That flics to make men free. 

May we earn the right, 

Through freedom's fight, 

To keep it the land of liberty. 

We must all get in 

With the will to win, 

The sooner the victory to be. 

We have God to thank, 

For the file and rank 

Of our great democracy. 

His blessing to us he gave, 

Our duty it is to save 

This freedom from forces far over the sea. 



[109] 



EMPIRE 

NAOMI CHAPPELL 

The bees were building empire 

When Solomon rode by, 
And white- frilled mushrooms hold their court 

Though Louis Seize may die. 

The ants in their dim galleries 

Work on and on and on, 
When courtiers are choked with dust 

And all their brightness gone. 

An oak outlasts a Pharoah 

A willow mourns his fool; 
While human kingdoms totter, 

Earth holds unchanging rule. 



THE ROSE 

LEROY CHARLES 

A sprout came forth from the good Earth, 
The stem was green and strong. 
The leaves were as fresh as the dewdrops, 
It laughed with the breeze's song. 

From out the sky's deep blueness, 
The Master looked from aobve, 
And gently caressed the bud's fragrance, 
And gave to it of his love. 

The pedals, so slowly they opened, 
With beauty as fresh as snows, 
The angels gathered about it 
And softly called it the rose. 

[110] 



FUTILITY 

MARY E. CHEDISTER 

If wanting and doing without 

Is learning to live, 

Is character building, 

Then I have lived poignant centuries, 

Have forged 

A character as strong as 

Blue'blade steel, and as true. 

But what to me are truth and centuries? 



AMBITION 

MARY VIDA CHEEK 

Make your plans to fit in 
With your castles in the air 
It's a very simple thing to start, 
But hard to keep them there. 

When jobs look big and failure 
Seems to stare you in the eye, 
Remember then those plans you made 
And be glad you made them high. 



This is Wealth 
To know that you 
Unto each duty 
Have been true. 
This is Wealth 
For you to know 



THIS IS WEALTH 

JESSIE ANN CHEFFEY 



[in] 



That seeds of gladness 

You can sow. 

This is Wealth 

For you to see 

Joys afloat, to gladden 

You and me. 

This is Wealth 

For you to hear 

The melodies caught 

By a listening ear. 

This is Wealth 

For you to be 

Contented and Godly 

That folks may see, 

There are many joys to bless 

When they value money less! 



PRAYER FOR THE FIGHTING MEN 

FRANCES BARBARA CHERELLI 

Eternal Father, Judge of all, Ruler of destiny, 

Guide and protect our boys for us on land and on the sea. 

They're thinking not of themselves out there, alone and far away- 

Thcy're thinking of the friends they left behind just yesterday. 

They're hoping that we have done our part, 

As we pledged from the very start, 

For the ultimate victory to be ours 

Will be attained only through hard wrought hours. 

By them, by us, yes, everyone, 

United, perservering, Your will be done. 

Faith everlasting, in You so high, 

King of the earth and of the sky. 

[112] 



ROCKED IN THE CRADLE OF THE WEST 

ALTA BROWN CHITTENDEN 

Mother sang Sweet Clementine out on the Utah Trail 
As we gathered "round the evening campfirc bright; 
Prairie train had halted as the moon rose silvery pale 
And the desert lay behind as black as night. 

Covered wagons rolled again just at the break of day, 
Weary miles along the trail they slowly trod; 
Every heart was filled with hope, and courage marked the way 
With each western song rang out their trust in God. 

Chorus 
Rocked in the cradle of the west, 

I lay me down in peace and rest. 
Rocked in the cradle of the west, 

I dream the dream I love the best: 
Til hear again the lullabies my Mother used to sing, 
Fll hear my dear old Daddy say we'll reach there in the spring. 
Rocked in the cradle of the west, 
The memory hours Til always love the best. 



THE NORTHER 

CHARLOTTE CHITTICK 

Fair April's sunshine lulls the Lone Star State, 
So sweet with orange blooms all life in tune. 
The quivering air, in silence, senses hate, 
Then madly rushes upward, none too soon. 
The gale, close censored in the ice^capped sone, 
Comes pouncing, unawares, on stream and spring 
With freezing breath. Winter crops lie prone. 
It leaves us stunned confused no creature sings. 



[113] 



Away, the Norther scatters death and woe 
In swirling sweeps of angry sleety clouds. 
The blast in fury, like a frenzied foe, 
With stinging gritty spray, all life enshrouds. 
The fiend, insensate, heeds not weal nor woe; 
But loss reveals the truth we need to know. 



REFLECTIONS 

CLARA BIRGITTE CHRISTEN SEN 

Summer sings farewell again 
With a tender sad Amen 
And a benediction sweet 
Blessing harvest days so fleet; 
Days that did our hopes renew 
And our hearts with love imbue; 
Days that did our thoughts uplift 
By some rare gift and set adrift 
A prayer for faith 
And will to trust 
In God above, 

With strength to run till setting sun 
And we life's golden ball have spun, 
And life's cycle glows complete 
Like the harvest moon 
O'er the golden wheat. 



DREAM LADY 

ZOE BRANEGAN CHRISTIN 

There in the Land of Poppies 
Where all our dreams come true, 
You came as a vision to me 
And I fell in love with you. 
You were dressed in cobweb laces, 
Moonbeams glistened like jewels rare, 
Your hair was unbound and flowing, 
Holding red poppies fair. 

[114] 



You spoke and your voice was music, 

Like the chime of a silver bell, 

The soft murmur of summer breezes, 

Dancing in a perfumed dell. 

Your touch, light as a snowflake falling, 

Melting in a gentian's blue, 

Soft, tender and loving, 

Giving the spirit of you. 



A PORTRAIT 

WILLA DAISY CHRISTY 

There he stands with outstretched hands, as though in benediction. 

While fingers clutch at the throats of his wretched victims. 

First with honied words he woos his foes (the road to Hell is paved 

with good intentions). 
"Our New Order will remake the world, 1 ' he shouts aloud and the 

crowd replies "Heil Hitler!" 
"The time must come when men must bow unto the mighty 

German." 

***** 

And brave men, silent, rise to make the world free again. 



OLD SANTA FE 

B. F. CLARK 

Santa Fe, how old, how old, 

How nobly you lie 
Beneath a field of silver stars 

That adorn a turquoise sky. 
How interesting your crooked streets, 

Your historic vine'dad halls, 
And the names of your daring men 

That built those heavy walls. 
Old Santa Fe, old Santa Fe, 

I walk your streets with pride, 
Where'er I go day or night 

[115} 



Walk spirits at my side. 
You say they're dead? 

It isn't so 
It was only flesh that died. 

Santa Fe, so old and gray, 
Long may you nobly lie 

Beneath that field of silver stars, 
That adorn a turquoise sky. 



A CHRISTMAS SONG 

MINNIE MASON CLAYBAUGH 

It is Christmas. The sleigh hells are ringing, 
The moonlight is bright on the snow; 

In the chapels glad voiees are singing, 
Now jubilantly swelling, now low. 

This Christmas my heart has a feeling 
That as never before I now know 

How He felt who came to bring healing 
To His perishing creatures below. 

He left His glad home with the angels 
To bring us His radiant light, 
The glory of all the archangels 

To set His bright star in our night. 

The One who had never known sorrow 
Took on the marred form of a man, 

To suffer on many a morrow, 
As only humanity can. 

He chose the way of the scourging, 
The mocking and insult and jeers, 

And when the ways were diverging 

He followed the one through earth's tears. 



He knelt in the garden of Weeping, 

And prayed while the faithless ones slept; 

And while the traitor came creeping 
Great tears of His life blood He wept. 

In calmless His own cross He carried 

To die as a sinner might do; 
In a drear place of tombs was He buried 

But He rose for me, and for you. 

His Star shines tonight in its glory. 

We see it from near and from far, 
And sing in glad anthems the story 

Of Baby and angels and Star. 



GIVING 

NORMAN CLAYTON 

He asked for bread and I gave crumbs; 
He asked for alms and I gave none; 
He asked for blood and I gave wine; 
He asked for love and I gave mine. 

Or did I give him love at all? 
Through me there nans a dreadful pall, 
For I must use these other things 
To share the love that His life brings. 



LOST DESIRES 

DONNA CLEM 

Lost desires 

Floating like dreamy clouds 

On the horizon 
Of Eternity. 



[117] 



Tormenting faces, 
Countless ones 

In many places, 

Smiling then frowning,- 

Always frowning 
As they leave 
me ALONE 

ALWAYS ALONE! 

Mellowed years 
Spent in endless 

Searching 

Amid hopeless tears 
Thrown to the winds 

Of ETERNITY. 



TWO-POINT RATIONING 

H. M. CLEMENTS 

It's mighty aggravating when you're chilled most through and 

through, 
To have the ration board inform you that there's nothing they can 

do. 

Just take your little problem into O. P. A. 
For all our decisions must depend on what they say. 

I'm getting madder and madder with every one of the lot 
Who call the items shortages that I'm satisfied we've got. 
They tied up all my rubber and they skimp me on my sweets, 
And soon the new point rationing will take away my meats. 

And wifey hit the ceiling when they cut her gasoline 
And forced her home with sonny, whom she had hardly seen. 
We've talked the whole thing over and decided what we'll do, 
Just fold up all our businesses and bid the boys adieu. 

[118] 



Last night my eyes were opened as I peeped across the sea 
At an old Russian woman down on her bended knee. 
She was leaning over her husband, who was lying in the snow 
Frozen like a mummy in the tombs of long ago. 

I found myself in England amid the bombed debris 

And sailing in the ocean, with Rick a^cussin' me. 

Soon my dream was over but the thoughts in me were stored 

And now I am a member of the local rationing board. 



GOD WOULD SMILE 

MARGARET E. COCHRAN 

If we could banish hate and greed 
And harbor only love, 
When friend or foe we chance to meet 
In shop or church or school or street, 
Then God would smile above. 

If we would lend a helping hand 
To some forsaken brother, 
And others' faults would understand, 
Spread kindliness throughout each land, 
Have faith in one another. 

If jealousy was never felt, 
To crime we closed the door, 
And every day we meekly knelt, 
Communion with our Father held, 
Then peace would reign forevermore. 



[119] 



PHANTOM COMPANION 

BELLE CODER 

I sec footsteps in the snow beside me every place I go, 

And though I turn and see but two, I surely know that you're there, 

too; 
For space and time and form are naught, but conquered by a 

lover's thought, 

That travels in an unknown way, and so I feel you here today. 
Beside me in this lovely place, I sec again your eager face, 
That defies forgetfulness of time and eternally still sublime, 
On memory's dusty pages where you're still mine through countless 

ages. 



YOU 

LENA COHEN 

Within the flickering, firelight's soft glow 

I watched the lissome, lightsome forms of flame 

That leaping upward laughed, and sought to throw 

A silhouette, as though in joyous game 

How warily, how wantonly they danced! 

On floor of brilliant blue and dusky red, 

As if a Persian potentate, entranced, 

His prayer^rug for their tiny toes had spread. 

And then one flame, far brighter than the rest 
Resolved itself in shivering, shimmering rays, 
As when the sun, of halcyon mood possessed, 
Upon a dew-drenched meadow softly plays. 
And laughter heard in all the lands again, 
It glimmered, glistened, formed itself anew, 
Then rose with undulating grace 'twas you! 

[120] 



AFTERWARDS 

DOROTHEA E. COLEMAN 

The peace of which we dreamed will come again, 
Now that dear hope is ours around the earth; 
In winter's shroud dare we despair of spring? Rebirth 
Is God's whether of nations or of men. 

We ask Him for the quiet day now spent, 

The warmth of sunlight on the opening leaf, 

The lingering note of dawning in the sky 

To heal our grief. 

We ask the tender touch of those we love, 

The swift caress, the precious smile, the kiss 

We can forget the steadfast pain, the unshed tears, 

Remembering this. 

The music that was hushed must holier rise, 

And laughter heard in all the lands again, 

And we must build with hearts instead of hands 

Cathedrals in the souls of broken men. 

The sweeping tides, now crimsoned at their source, 

Shall flow forever free of sorrow and of pain; 

The only bit of heaven we ask or need 

To hear the robin singing in the rain. 

Unheralded by light this dark must pass 

To dawn. So from the deep abyss of death 

We daily rise. Life is so sweet, so good for us who died! 

The blood of millions earth's last ransom paid 

But One was ransomed for a dying world before 

Love is the final weapon forged in life 

That can defeat all war. 

Vanquished the slave, the bond, the serf; 

Now freeman all, 

Unshackled on earth's clean and holy sod. 
The love and blood poured out for us 
Now recompensed by God. 



[121} 



TAD 

LORRAINE E. COLLINS 

God gave him little sturdy legs 

He learned to walk. 
God gave him the baby words to say 

He learned to talk. 
God made him sweet and lovable and gay 

But God forgot to let him stay. 



TO A SINGING STAR 

EVANGELINE COLWELL 

It isn't who you are, 
The way you look, or where 
You live, that changes each 
Small room in which I live. 
It isn't what you say, 
Or whether you arc gay 
Or sad, or rich or poor, 
Or right or wrong, or good 
Or bad. This doesn't mean 
A thing. But oh, the strange 
And lovely feeling in my heart 
Wliciie'er you sing! 



FIRE PICTURES 

NORINE B. CONNELLY 

Did you ever sit near the chimney 
When the fire was burning low, 
Half close your eyelid curtains 
And see the embers glow? 

The flames make little creatures 
In the fireplace so black. 
I like to play it is a cave 
And chase the animals back. 

[122] 



THE WHITE PARADE GOES MARCHING ON 

BARBARA HOPE CONWAY 

With courage undaunted and spirits high, 

The white parade goes marching by 

In wind, in rain, in storms prevailing 

True angels of mercy never failing. 

Never failing in far Bataan, Australia and Corrcgidor, 

Tending the wounded, the weary, and sore 

In spirit and body as well 

Keep up the morale through the terrors of hell, 

In the midst of the fighting, as the wounded fall, 
Works the Red Cross Nurse 'tis duty's call. 
Ready and willing to do her best, 
To reduce the suffering, aid soldiers to rest, 
And to forget their pain for a little while, 
Still never forgetting a friendly smile. 

She asks not why, or where, or when 

She tackles the job that fate may send. 

Though weary and spent as she may be, 

Not a word of complaint or of wanting to be free 

Of war's desolation and its thundering din, 

The nurse with our soldiers is ready to win. 

Ah, mothers praying for fighting sons, 
Forget not the nurse behind the guns. 
For it may be your boy she gives new life 
To return to you when all the strife 
Is over and peace comes- to stay 
And life shall go on the American way. 



IF I GO 

RACHEL CONRAD 

If I go before the sun has set again, 

you'll watch it for me, won't you, Jim? 
And listen to the hymn the pine trees sing at night 



[123] 



when the wind blows through them? 
And feed the squirrel when it gets so cold? 

You will, Jim? If I should go? . . . 
Til slip away, Jim, soft, and maybe you won't mind 

so much, but you'll remember when the fire in 

the stove burns low the way we used to love. 

You'll remember, Jim, if I should slip away? 

And don't forget the blucness of my eyes is there above, 

when I am gone, and just the sky is left . . . 

and I am not . . . 
And if the sun should never warm my heart again, you'll 

still remember it is yours, dear Jim? Although 

I've gone away and you are here alone? . . . 
You won't forget if I should go? 



FIRE 

VIOLETTE INEZ COOK 



On before the wind it races, 
Never tiring seemingly; 
But enjoying the pursuit 
By the wind. 

Always it is eating; 
Lapping with its hungry tongue; 
Forced ever onward 
By the wind. 

It is greedy and inhuman; 
Destroying everything 
In its eagerness to be o'ertaken 
By the wind. 

[124] 



DOWN BY MATAGORDA BAY 

JULIA COOPER 

The acres here stretch to the tree-line, 
The grass is new green from much rain, 
The cows graze in multiplied clusters, 
And golden flowers pattern the plain. 

My mind sketches in the bright picture, 
Then a bird sings anew an old song 
"See! The Lord God planted a garden 
The highways of Teaxs along!" 



HANDS IN THE DARK 

ALWYN CORISTINE 

While rubble scatters under scream of shell 

And walls and bridging roofs go tumbling down 

Even in shelters, relatively well 

The small ones clutch to them their fears, and moan 

Lord! Take their little hands in Thine, a spell; 

That, comforted, new confidence be won. 

Where aged ones lie abed, hospitalized, 
When sirens wail like banshees, bringing fear, 
Extend Thine Hand; so it be realized 
If dark should blanket, their relief is near. 



[125] 



COMPENSATION 

VIOLA C. CORLEY 

To have known this, strangely beautiful earth, 

Smelling radiant vapors from a refulgent soil, 
Seeing the mystery of growing things in birth, 

Being a part of majestic creation in our toil; 
To have been, to have drunk deeply of life, 

Knowing the woing warmth of the sun, 
The tang of the wind in its eternal strife 

With the changing moods of the season's run; 

To have looked beyond the horizon's far line, 

Hearing above the plaintive whispering trees 
Deep sounds of the dashing waves beating time 

To elemental hymns of God's voice on the breeze; 
Watching the guardians of the worlds on high 

Weaving long golden chains that flash and glow 
A bright pathway for all the children of the sky, 

Eternal deathless beauty, the God of life bestows. 

To have known and walked this witching earth, 

I fear not the stately tread of death passing by. 
It was for His reaping that God gave birth; 

So I will answer the summons without a sigh. 
Gladly flinging hack the gifts that life gave, 

Asking for only one living glowing gem, 
That one good deed I may have done to help pave 

A path for the fearing to pass over to Him. 



TRIBUTE TO POLAND 

VIOLA CORY 

On a purple mounted hill I stood 

And watched the world pass by 

A world of sorrow, conflict, fear, and shame, 

That made my soul within me die. 

[126] 



Disease and hunger passed by first, 
And my thoughts went wandering to where lay 
A conquered Poland, all bloody and torn, 
Where once had been a land of wheat and hay. 

The people with a soul depressed, 

But a heart that says, Fight On, Fight On! 

No matter whatever may happen, 

They keep courage and strength to say- -Fight On! 



LONGING 

CATHERINE L. COWLES 

Sometimes there comes into your life 

A moment of such perfect peace and happiness 

That you long to keep it always as your own. 

It is as if you held within your eager finger tips 

A fragile bubble of some shadowed loveliness, 

Which swiftly flying seconds soon will shatter 

Into broken bits of memory. 

COUNT NOT YOUR DEAD 

H. THEODORE COX 

Count not your dead among the bodies only 
That sprawl inert on fields of battle lonely, 
Robbed of the promises that life extended, 
Their talents dissipated now expended. 

But think: Here Music died, and Art, and Poetry. 
Had these, whom Death has maimed, lived to maturity, 
How shall we count the tale of song that might have thrilled 
From lips that here and now forever have been stilled. 

That brain, already less than dust it might have given 
Those answers for which man through centuries has striven; 
Those hands, now taloned by decay, still might have made 
Machines which have not yet been dreamed, much less essayed. 

[127] 



And so we count our dead, and in the counting 
Let's number too the toll of genius mounting; 
For life at most is short, but art is long; 
Much more than blood he sheds who kills a song. 



THE FLOOD 

NAOMI DIGMAN COX 

The mighty river is angry with me. 
I stole the trees from the timberland, 
Blasted their roots to eternity. 

I stole the river's expanding breath. 
Stole the leaves that soaked up flood, 
Let rich soil wash to its death. 

I am thoughtless humanity. 

Fve turned the river from a friend 

Into a fearful enemy! 



FLORENCE NIGHTINGALES 

VIVIAN POPE COY 

My sisters march where they have marched before- 
Inside the battle zones! On questing feet, 
With hands of mercy, faces set once more 
To pattern of the army and the fleet. 

Shadowlcss they go. Their lamps shed light 
Before, behind, to left of them, to right; 
A crimson cross against a field of white, 
The standard they have carried to the light. 

They march with men defenders of the Way, 
Their loyalty, ideals, and valor share; 
But their compassion is in bloody fray! 
A mantle covering all who suffer there. 

[128] 



TWILIGHT AND YOU 

DOLLIE BENTON CRAIG 

When twilight shades come stealing 

Just at the close of day, 

And night bird songs are pealing 

As shadows cross my way; 

When all the world is singing 

Her Nature's lullaby 

And the moon throws out her silvery beams 

Across the starlit sky, 

It makes me think of you, dear, 

And wish that you were nigh. 

When crickets hopping from their beds 

Begin their evening song, 

And fireflies flit in forests deep 

With glaring lanterns strong, 

When busy little feet have stopped 

Their travel for the day, 

And buzzing wheels of progress 

Have ceased their tune to play, 

It always brings a thought of you 

That holds me in its sway. 

It may not be the day has brought 

With all its toils and cares 

A thought of you serenely sweet, 

Of how you are, and where, 

But when the night time gently comes 

And bids the day adieu, 

It matters not where I may be, 

It brings me thoughts of you. 

KING OF SPACE 

BERNICE CRAWFORD 

Great bird with flashing wings of silver hue! 
You go to all the realms of air there are, 
Where stars afloat in misty, magic blue, 
Befriend the stranger from the earth afar. 



[129] 



Your horizon grows wider, wider still, 
Views I call mine are small; the world you own. 
You bring to all the hearts of men a thrill, 
Adventurous! Yet calm, your motors drone, 
A painting from the Master Artist's hand 
You see from where you are, O king of space! 
The air, the sky, the sun, the sea, the land, 
Perhaps the gleaming star; your wings are grace! 
Soar on to burning heights we can not see, 
Let truth arise to set the bonded free! 

Call me from that majestic flight and tell 

Just what romantic spires your eyes behold. 

Do traffic cops of skyways treat you well? 

Or do you seek the rainbow's pot of gold? 

Ah, no! You have a mission to fulfill, 

Your quest is peace, 

When warlords 1 minds and hands, yes, hearts arc still, 

World strife will cease. 

Your mission done, the skylanes you can roam, 

O king of space, romantic you can be! 

And when the march of time can send you home 

Perhaps you'll bring a souvenir to me. 

Then pinions in repose again will rise 

To sing of epic progress in the skies! 



MY DIAMOND 

MYRTLE BRODIE CRAWFORD 

The one who rocks a cradle in the wee hours of night, 
The one who teaches little ones how to pray, 
The one who walks in His footsteps day by day, 
The one who leads youth in the path of right, 
The one who comforts and serves as a light, 
The one who faces troubles, come what may, 

[130] 



The one who gives much, takes little on life's way 
Is Mother, my diamond, so clear and bright. 
The one who gave the only son she had, 
The one who willingly answers her country's call, 
The one who lives above the things that are sad, 
The one who knows the sweets, as well as the gall, 
The one who lauds the good, forgives the bad 
Is Mother, my diamond, and I am her lad. 



SYMPHONY OF THE SEASONS 

ANNIE LEE SMITH GROOM 

To yellow, gold and orange hues 
The garden's changed from summer blues, 
To greet the autumn with days of gray, 
And in the wind waves colors gay. 
E'en though the days are growing short, 

The heavy dew of night is caught 

On each flower^face and stalk of green, 

Which all day long unwilted seem. 

When warm days change to sleet and cold, 
Bright berries then the srubs will hold 
To hail the robins from the north, 
And cheer the wayfarer back and forth. 

The winter soon will pass as night; 
Comes spring which lifts all dreary blight 
With narcissi, hyacinths and daffodils slight; 
Brave crocus and tulips will bless the sight. 



INSIDE OUR OLD BARN DOOR 

ELEANOR G. GRUM 

Hundreds of cob'webs under the eaves, 
Intricate, dusty and gray; 



[131] 



A swallow's nest on the center beam, 

With eggs just laid today. 
Two paint-spotted ladders against the wall, 

A sled of "old' fashioned" make; 
A lobster pot and a fishing pole, 

A line, a sinker, and rake. 
Some coarse brown ropes coiled on the floor 

Beneath the decp'scarrcd bench; 
And musty old boxes and coffee tins, 

A broken saw and wrench. 
The mash barrel in the corner still 

Contains an empty measure; 
Beside it now a canvas tent 

That once gave sporting pleasure. 
A bit of hose, the rubber stiff, 

One watering pot and pail; 
Ten strawberry baskets, a rusty chain, 

Nuts, and bolts, and nails. 
Covered with dust a bicycle seat, 

A muskrat trap and tag; 
One old boot and overcoat, 

A mat, and torn red flag. 
The garden tools lie in their place, 

Beside a broken chair: 
The spade, the hoe, and rusty trowel, 

Condition only fair. 
Mildewed reins, a horse's collar, 

Buckles, and a saddle; 
Oarlock, painter, oar, and anchor, 

Homemade sail, and paddle. 
Figures chalked upon the wall, 

Almost erased from sight; 
Initials carved by youthful hands, 

Marks for measured height. 
A small boy's cart wheeMess now, 

Feathers dust the floor; 
What friendly things of yesterday, 

Inside our old barn door. 

[132] 



A QUESTION 

NANNIE MAE CRUSE 

I asked a flower it was o lovely thing, 
A wayside joy that made the sad heart sing 
1 asked how come that winsome grace and light 
That kept it fragrant, its face forever bright. 
For tossed by wind or drenched by chilling dew, 
It scents the breeze, its smile still glimmers through, 
Brave cheer diffusing to weary souls who run 
It said, "I lift my face up to the sun." 

I asked a man he was a noble one 

Though not by birth or through fame's guerdons won; 

Nor by much wealth or sophist lore of mind - 

And yet on wings he soared above his kind 

I asked how, minus these and sword or pen, 

He stood an oak above all lesser men. 

He said, "By lifting my face up from the sod 

And gazing on the great stone-face of God!" 



PRAYER 

WARREN A. GULP 



Give me Faith, 

That I may lift my head 

Above this tangled web. 

Give me hope, 

That I may see beyond 

This mortal realm. 

Give me charity, 

That I may not condemn 

Another's groping search. 



[133] 



I SAW DEATH 

EVA BELL CUMMINGS 

I saw Death. 

She came into the room wherein I sat 

Beside the one so dear to me; 

He waited for her weeping, 

For we knew that Death must come. 

She came. So gently that we scarcely heard her 

Yet, we felt a sudden stir and knew that she was there; 

I cringed; afraid to look upon this thing 

About to rend my happiness becloud my days, 

But, suddenly, as though by caprice held, I turned 

And saw her! yet, could this be Death? 

She seemed something ethereal! Effulgcntly, she stood 

And smiled, apolegetically, I thought. 

Death beckoned to my dear one and then 

I saw them at the door about to leave; 

But, in a moment's time, I, too, was there, 

Groping for words that never came; for needless words 

Death knew my every thought! 

Again she smiled and shook her head, 

"Some other time Fll come for you!" 

I hardly breathed. I waited hoping 

And, then, I saw her hand Death's hand 

Thrust slowly toward my own, 

I touched the hand of Death! 

But, it was soft and warm and very like my own; 

We went. We three: my loved one, Death, and I. 

We walked where utter beauty reigned. 

We climbed the huge green pillows that were hills, 

Befringed with st)ft, shy flowers peeking forth 

To see what manner of marauder this might be; 

Listening, we heard the tongue of Nature speak; 

The trill of bird the sigh of stately grass, 

The hastening of a brook, unbosoming its load; 

The brooklet stopped and as a trick photographer 

Stood still, took aim, and snapped our picture as we passed! 

[134} 



The whole world laughed. I, too, felt gay, 
Where but a moment sooner I had wept. 
"If this is Death"- my voice was strange and quiet, 
"If this is Death, how beautiful to die!" 

And, then, we stopped; somehow, I knew my walk was o'er; 

It seemed I dare not look beyond 

I knew 'twas not for me not yet 

I stood and watched them go and felt content. 

I turned, retraced my steps with purpose fresh, 

Picked up my tasks which I had left 

And, singing, started all anew! 

Afraid of Death? Ah, no! 

Sometimes afraid of Life but never Death! 

Someday, I thought, someday, perhaps 

When many years have sped, 111 go again 

Go even farther than I . went today 

But, I shall have no fear, for 

I have walked with Death! 



ROASTING EARS 

J. B. CUMMINS 

When the summer sun is beaming, 
And the heat gives torrid test, 
Bringing yearnings for vacation, 
Visioned trips and time to rest, 
Then there is one consolation 
Staying home and on the job: 
Pleasures that we find at meal time, 
When there's convupon'the'cob. 

Recollections trail long pathways 

Far remote to childhood years, 

When at grace, the eyes were focussed 

On a plate of steaming ears. 

Season's feast with second helpings; 

Memories that time won't rob, 

Home, and home folks 'round the table, 

Eating convupon-the-cob. 



[135] 



We have scanned the gilded menus, 
Listing foods from seven seas, 
Feasted where the camp fires flickered, 
Sat at banquets, ill at ease. 
Only luncheons, family dinners, 
Here and there through passing years. 
Hold a place like homey serving, 
Luscious golden roasting ears. 



PRAYER 

ARNOLD CURRY 

Dear God, I know not how to pray 
So far my feet have gone astray, 

So deep my soul has sunk in shame 
I dare not speak Thy Holy Name. 

And yet, my soul so much afraid 

Cries out, O God, I need Thine aid; 

I can not live and dare not die 
This is my soul's despairing cry. 

But He who made the leper whole 

Can touch and cleanse my tortured soul, 

Can bid my darkness turn to light, 
Will guide my feet the path aright. 

Send down Thy truth and power and might, 
Give Thou my Godless eyes true sight, 

Wash from my heart each sinful stain, 
Let not one trace of shame remain. 

Teach me to rise and fight again 
Let Thou my soul surmount all pain, 

Build Thou my hope, when Jordan's past 
My soul shall dwell with God at last. 

[136] 



HIDDEN PLACES 

BRONSTON LOVING CURRY 



It's to little hidden places 
Where the noisy world can't go, 
Close beside some limpid streamlet 
Where cool waters ebb and flow; 

It's among wild woody flowers 
Underneath the leafy tree 
Where unseen a million voices 
Blend in matchless melody; 

To such little hidden places 
Weary souls should often plod, 
Where in silent meditations 
They come very close to God. 



THE PLAIN SEWER OF WORDS 

DORIS H. GUSHING 

She wove a heavy quilt of words, 
Of knitted words in spreads; 
Crocheted them into counterpanes 
To cover wide, old beds. 

She could not twist French knots with them, 
She could not tat with a phrase; 
Nor could she draw threads of lacey thought 
She was plain in all her ways. 



[137} 



THERE WILL BE OTHER SPRINGS 

PAULINE CUTLER 

Hope is not lost, my heart, 

Ours still is spring, 
Cherry blossoms on low green hills, 
Soft silken petals floating to the earth; 
Ours the bird songs at eventide, 

The soft night rain; 
Ours the cool quiet of May mornings. 
War can not destroy these; 

They will go on. 

Though blossoms may die and birds be stilled, 
This mad nightmare of hate and death must end, 

And better springs will come. 
Beauty is not dead; 
As long as wild cherries blow, 
And trees grow green, and skies blue, 

Hope is not lost; 
There will be other springs. 



MANHATTAN 

EDNA DANIEL 

The city is an outstretched arm 
To give and take as it receives 
The wealth of many continents, 
The ships of many seas. 

Its well'trained muscles work mechanically; 

It feels the pulse of the nation, a regular beat; 

With grip of steel, it holds with tyranny 

The nation's marts and stocks which here compete. 

The blood of many races feeds its arteries 
With Herculean strength that gives it much prestige; 
It rocks that ship, the cradle of all Democracies, 
Which seeks nor serves no lord save its own liege. 

[138] 



Ships here like great winged gulls in hand 
Are plucked of feather and caressed with love; 
Here comes that raven from a troubled strand 
To return with the branch of peaceful dove. 



SANDS 

RUTH LEMACK DANIELS 

Quiet solitude. 

Thin, hazy, distant hues; 

Circling wings seeking clues to repletion; 

Distant grays changing, purpling, glowing; 

Shifting brightness blowing; bowing with petition 

To the arching blue above. 

Tis my desert. And I love. 

Quiet solitude of age. 

Distant, luring glimpses 

Of the gently nearing future promised those 

Who calmly live their gray and purple days; 

Waiting for the happy joy fulfillment ever knows 

In the heavenly blue above. 

'Tis my life. And I live. 



CREATION 

MARY LOUISE DARGAN 

"I made it!" said the man, with accents of pride 

As he looked at the flower garden against the old wall. 

"See, there are blue violets and marigolds beside 
Gray dusky miller and pink hollyhocks tall! 

See what color gold, gray, blue and pink 
And say, man, I made it! It's lovely, I think! 11 

"I made it" said the woman to her admiring guest, 

"Yes, the chocolate, the cocoanut, the caramel, the spice, 

fruit and the spice yes, and the rest 
You say they're good? Well, they do look nice! 

I made it, you know. Yes? Isn't it nice? 



[139] 



44 T made it, oh muvver, an' all by myself! 

See, that's where the fairies stay in that castle of rock! 
\nd the teeniest door is for the teeniest elf 

And that shell in their hall is their grandfathers' clock! 
And, oh, muvver, doncha s'pose they'll sleep there tonight 

An 1 know that I made it so snug and so tight? 1 ' 

"I made them!" said God, as He smiled from above 
Upon His creations, all spread down below, 

"And to my new wonders, 111 send them the love 
Of creating a plenteous store! 

They'll love to create, I made them. I know!" 



APRIL IN THE WOODS 

MARY KATHLEEN DARN ALL 

I know it's April, by the woods, 

Newdresscd in misty green 

Of soft, yet bright, young leaves 
Still timid with the fear of frost. 
I know that if I venture in 

Among the shadows cool, 
I shall discover, nestled close 

To some tree's friendly side, 
Some violets that March has left, 

Forgotten, in her haste. 



PRAYER 

NOREEN I. DAVEY 

Dear God, don't let me be afraid 

When it is timejio die. 

Give me the faith to understand 

To know the reason why 

I do not mean to have these thoughts, 

These fears that strive to cling 

Down deep inside- -I want to hide 

That cold, relentless thing. 

[140] 



And then again I think of you, 
All fears I leave behind; 
I know that when the time arrives, 
You'll be there helpful, kind. 



PRAYER 

ETTA DAVIDORF 

Help me to help myself, dear Lord, 
That I Thy strength might know; 
Thy glory and Thy might might reveal. 
In all their loveliness. 

Teach me the way, O blessed One, 
And guide me by Thy light, 
To seek Thy face, Thy presence rare, 
In all humility. 



VALENTINES 

EVAH BOONE DAVIS 



Valentines in grand array, 
Colorful and rainbow gay 
These I saw in town today. 
Did I say beyond compare? 
I was wrong for there never 
Could be found one half so fair 
As this token cut with care: 
One big heart tied with twine, 
With no intricate design 
Letters sadly out of line. 
But no costly Valentine 
Could compare with this of mine, 
Fashioned by a boy of nine. 



[141] 



MY PRAYERS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED 

GRACE VIOLETT DAVIS 

I prayed for contentment and peace after pain, 
For rest when the long day was through. 
Then from the Heavens, God sent the rain, 
And the whole of the world seemed new. 

I prayed for love unending and strong, 
For beauty to live through the years. 
My love grew out of an old, old song, 
And a child smiled up through its tears. 
I prayed for joy and I was sincere, 
For heartease and true happiness, 
And I looked around, you were near, 
Your smile was a gentle caress. 



CHARACTER 

JEAN DAVIS 

The muddy pool of water 

Left by the morning's rain 
Reflects with inner beauty 

The heaven whence it came. 



THE MOON'S BLACKOUT 

SUSANNAH DAWSON 

We're going to have more blackouts, 
They are coming very soon, 
But the thing that has me puzzled 
Is, who'll black out the moon? 

When the sirens start to wail, 
And the lights are low and dim 
There'll be one shining light on high 
And we can't cover him. 

[142} 



But if the real test comes some night 
And the moon gleams in the sky, 
I know who'll drape the clouds across 
Like curtains in the sky. 

Then when the danger passes 
And the scare is o'er, 
The fleecy clouds will travel on 
And the moon will shine once more. 



NIRVANA 

FANNY P. DAY 

Lord! Lend to me the eagle's wings, 
That I may soar to better things 

High in the clouds, away, away! 
To greet the glorious dawn of day. 

Help me to reach Nirvana, Lord, 
Give me Thy understanding word; 

Teach me, dear God, to dry my tears. 
May I through all the coming years. 

Hear not the things which vex my soul; 

May I ascend to meet my goal, 
As on eagle's wings, Lord, let me fly, 

Take me with Thee to realms on high. 
High! High! Above the petty things 

Lord, lend to me the eagle's wings. 



[143] 



MY AUTUMN SONG 

LOUISE ELEANOR DENKELBERG 

This is my autumn song: 

You may have heard the rustle of the wind 

Whistling through the trees the crackling leaves. 

The chestnuts popping as they strike the earth. 

And you have watched the climbing ivy twine 

Turning from green to multi-colored hues; 

The birds winging their way to warmer climes 

And church'bells ringing out their welcome chimes. 

This is my autumn song: 

You may have seen small figures scurrying 

Along to school and afterwards to play. 

Proud fathers, weary with long hours of toil, 

Their footsteps homeward bound the end of day, 

Cheered by mother's welcome at the door 

And baby's bubbling laughter, mother's joy. 

Oh, who can tell what season more abounds 
In harmony, symmetry of design? 
Nature excelled herself when she portrayed 
A time of year so beautiful and fine 
This is my autumn song. 



FROM A HOSPITAL WINDOW 

MABEL F. DENNETT 

The sun is sinking in the skies, 

The traffic roars along the street, 
Edged by processionals of trees. 

Life flows about my still retreat. 

A distant bell prolongs its sound, 

Folk hurrying homeward round the bends 

A swift fire-engine dashes on. 
Evening descends. 

[144] 



Without my inner door lies pain, 
And healing's finger seeks to balm 

Sick souls; while, at my window, I 

Have found a need of health and calm. 

And now the skies grow luminous 
As, jewel by jewel, flash the stars. 

The paper boy has made his rounds. 
Dark hides life's scars. 



THOUGHTS ON EVENING 

JEANETTE DERICKSON 

I liked the sound of the thunder, 

I liked the sound of the rain- 
That fell with sputtering patter 

On my window-pane 
Last night! 

This morning the walks are muddy, 

This morning the sky is gray 
This morning the folks are cranky 

Could they be any other way? 
This morning! 

Now tonight it is snowing and sleeting, 

The walks are white with snow 
But my room is cozy and comfy 

And my heart is all aglow- - 
Tonight! 

FIRST BEAU 

ERA C. DC SHAZO 

I went to church; I caught a beau. 

Mom laughed and said, "I told you so," 
Just like she had read my thought, 

And knew exactly what the day had brought. 

[145] 



I tried to look bored, in the same old way; 

But my mind refused, I acted too gay. 
I wish I had looked a bit more precise, 

And not let my enthusiasm show in my eyes. 

So going to church now suits me fine; 

I can study my lesson and be on time, 
It seems so essential and reasonable to go, 

For the minister there is also my beau. 



MY IRISH PRINCE 

JANE DE WALT 

One day as I sat alone 

In the shade of an old oak tree, 

And rested my head upon its trunk 

As contentedly as could be, 

I thought I saw you coming 

Up the old stone walk; 

I saw the smile upon your face 

And I heard you talk. 

And then I thought you took my hand 
And we ran to the top of the hill, 
Where all that we could see 
Was beautiful and still, 
Save for the sound of the rushing wind 
As it whistled through the tree 
And made a ripple on the grass 
And the bird that sang for glee. 

Over the meadow and down by the brook 
We laughed and played together, 
Where the brook and river meet, 
Where the cattle are tethered, 
And watched the ripples rise and fall; 
We watched the gay birds fly 
Soaring over tree and hill, 
My Irish prince and I. 

[146} 



But, alas, 'twas only a dream, 
A dream both dear and gay, 
But still I love to think 
Of it coming to life some day. 
And always I have thought 
That saying may be true, 
That anything can happen 
When you really want it to. 

MAY 

EDNA LOVETT DEWBERRY 

Trees are green, the grass is too, 
Birds are flying, skies are blue. 
The wind is blowing, bidding good 'day, 
Flowers yield to its musical sway. 

The birds are singing 

It's May! It's May! 

EVENTIDE 

ANNA MARY DICKSON 

At dusk when all the chores are done 

I find a quiet place 
Where restful pictures groom the walls 

And books take up a space. 

The softest rug yields to my tread 

And a turquoise clock ticks low, 
While over all a candle dim 

Gives out its gentle glow. 

Here, too, a lily lifts her head 

With fragrant, star-like grace, 
From a lovely bowl just made to rest 

On a bit of hand-made lace. 

But more than outward circumstance 

I prize the inward peace 
That soothes my soul an incense rare 

In hours of sweet release! 

[147] 



HARVEST 

MARIA MESSURI DI VALENTIN 



Tear, kill, hang, crush 
The frail bodies of men's children. 
Let life from out them rush, 
Mix their substance into earth, then 
Plant oppression in each row 
Nurtered by the leader's iron fist. 
The buried marrow will not grow 
A new race for him but will twist 
Within its forming shape 
The avenging sons of them 
Whose lives the aggressors rape. 
The new conception marks the stem 
With hatred and born in slavery 
They shall use those very chains 
In acts of foresworn bravery 
To cleanse the rooted stains. 



NORTHERN LIGHTS 

ELEANOR CONLEY DIXON 

Converging domelike in the sky, 
Trembling in the shivering air, 
White streamers streaked to die; 
Flashing from everywhere. 
Thus the mystery of the north 
Flashed across our starlit way, 
And untold beauties burst forth, 
Myriad lights took the place of day. 
Until the green and purple curtain 
Pausing a bit -uncertain 
O'er our dark lake horizon 
The lights of the north her eyes on 
Silently stealing across the ceiling 
Then suddenly, wasn't that a sigh? 
It dropped away from out of the sky; 
The Northern Lights mystery unrevealing! 

[148] 



A COLLEGE YEARBOOK 

MALOISE STURDEVANT DIXON 

This is our saga, this the record of time's ruthless flight 

During that little interlude of yesteryear called college. For, today, 

Those moments arc no longer ours to fashion only to recall. 

Once, we were children; nothing lay behind (within our ken); 

hence, we never glanced 
That way, but always forward, visioning years to be. Closer they 

came. 

We thought ourselves full grown, commencement day that first 

commencement! 
Standing on the threshold of the future, the halo of our adolescent 

years 

Diffusing Vound our head the glowing colors 
That blazoned on the banners of our school, and symbolized the 

troths we pledged! 
We now looked either way, forward, or back; and so, we dreamed 

two dreams: 
One, of the past we thought ourselves so old and one, of our 

tomorrows. 
College loomed: Utopia. A lottery. A fad. A privilege. A duty. A 

dull task. 
Amusing. Grim. A place where dreams came true. A place hopes 

died. 

Its halls revered. Its very portals scorned. With dread, with joy untold 
Each of us fashioned his concepts. Each would reap 
A different crop, according to his seed. Then, life began. 

Or did it? 

Who can say? For once again we cross a starting line 

an epoch passes. 

Nostalgia, like a magnet, draws our thoughts to things gone by, 
While toward the other pole a new attraction swings our dithered 

minds 
To times ahead; times that we can not glimpse with clarity, yet 

vision, as before, 

[149] 



Each through the spectacles of his own character. Will all life be 

like this? 
Always, new endings? Always, new beginnings? Always, new 

poignancies of grief, 
New thrills of hope, the deepened scars of fear? Always, fresh 

serum of faith? 
Is change the sole unchanging fact of life? 

Today, the altitude of our new status takes our breath: 

the two horizons, 
Yesterday, tomorrow, fuse in one. Conflicting loyalties befog our 

course. Knowing life 
Has much to give to us, and we to it, we know not how to get, 

nor how to yield. 
We long to stay the course of time, procrastinate maturity, get 

better set 
Upon our mark! But no the challenge signals, and our feet move on. 

Now, distantly, we glimpse remote tomorrows: strange days when 

we may truly bear 
The mark of age; when we shall yearn to gaze only at bygone 

scenes. 
Then, a new youth must scan the years ahead, and dream tomorrow's 

dreams. 
In this our book, against that day, we store young tinder for the 

fires 
Of memory. Each to the hearth bringing a different fagot, each from 

the blaze 
Will draw a different torch to light the future's way. 

Our fire is kindled. Reader, feel the warmth of its bright flame! 



WHITE ASHES 

RUTH DODGE 

Light as the breeze that is dancing past, 
White as the glow when the die is cast. 
Beautiful ashes to me. 

[150] 



Thin as a coverlet o'er me spread, 
Soft as the down of a feather bed. 
Wonderful ashes to me. 

Minerals rich now exposed to view 
Glistening bright in the morning dew. 
Genuine ashes to me. 

Telling the tales of a friendship fire, 
Fanned by the hopes that young hearts aspire. 
Marvelous ashes to me. 

Burning and glowing far into night, 
Vying with stars for the last of light. 
Radiant ashes to me. 

Beautiful glow as it fades in death, 
Lighting afresh as it gains new breath. 
Leaving its ashes to me. 

Proof of the joy that was once our own, 
Changed now and changing fore'er to stone. 
Bury these ashes with me. 



FOR A. W. 

PHYLLIS L. DOE 

Hands that have touched my hands 

Will touch mine never more. 

Lipe that have touched my lips 

We're parted forever more. 

Eyes that have sought my eyes 

Now mine will seek in vain. 

The love that throbbed within you 

Has stopped like the blood in your veins. 



[151] 



IN THE GARDEN OF HEAVEN 

MYRTLE VEST DONNOHUE 

The tiny seed of the flower garden 
Sprang forth under her tender care; 
The flowers were bigger and brighter 

Than those you could find elsewhere. 
The child of her church and school 
Was helped by her guiding hand; 
The men and women were better 
Having known a character so grand. 

And now in the Garden of Heaven. 
So free from all toil and care, 
She dwells with the flowers and angels, 
God having need of her there. 



MY REVERIE 

MARGARET DONOVAN 

While twilight came one eve in May 
I tried to throw my cares away. 
As I passed by a new'filled lake 
My dormant soul did then awake, 
For stretched before me in the gray 
Were miles and miles of endless bay. 
Protecting mist did o'er it rest 
As a new come but welcome guest; 
The hills in the horizon seemed 
A bulwark where the waves had leaned. 
But soon the darkness took the light; 
My peaceful lake was out of sight. 

[152] 



PEACEFUL VALLEY 

J. R. DOOLEY, JR. 

In the valley of colorful peaks that boldly reach so high 

Into a gloriuos sunset sky, 
Standing out like sentinels guarding the valley below, 

Casting a silhouette that's aglow 
With a faint blue of merging mountains 

Like the rippling waters of spreading fountains, 

The trickling waters softly ripple over pebbly beds 

As though reluctant to leave the mountain's brushy webs. 

And the great silent trees 

Swaying gently with the evening breeze 

The whispering notes of a sluggish brook 
Murmuring of the ripples in the nook. 

Far up a deep ravine a wolf pours forth his haunting plight. 

Near the water's edge a deer retreats in silent flight; 
The rabbit scurries into the brush, 

Awaits the wolf's cry to hush. 
Birds spread their wings in uncertain flight, 

The squirrel climbs swiftly with fright. 

As eventide gently falls 

The whip-poor-will softly calls 
The sweet scent of fragrant flowers 

Brightened by the heavens' showers 
As the soft breeze fills the air 

With scented blossoms growing there. 

The air is filled with a mystical light 

As the moon soars into sight 
And the cool mountain breeze 

Sings a melody through the trees 
Across the star studded sky 

A peaceful cascade hovers nigh. 



[153] 



TO JANE 

HILDAGARDE DORMAN 

I have a friend who loves the wind 
Blowing in her hair, 
Who hoeing weeds in the garden, 
Calls it prayer. 

A friend who loves the twilight, 
Running, bubbling brooks, 
Reading verses, planting seeds, 
And quiet shady nooks. 

A friend who loves great silences, 
Trees against the sky, 
The smoke against our chimney-roof, 
Rising straight and high. 

I have a friend who kneels to pray 
When day is done, 
And God's great world is silent 
At the setting of the sun. 



To mould in bronse 
I can't a spire, 
To carve in marble, 
Or create in fire; 

To build in wood, 
Or e'en in stone, 
Or fashion crudely 
In plastic tone. 

But day by day 
Fll slowly make 
Lasting impressions, 
For Freedom's sake; 

[154] 



TRUE ART 

GLADYS E. DOUGLAS 



On childish minds 
Pure motives press, 
Teach them to live 
And do their best. 

HANDKERCHIEF HEART 

DIANA DOYLE 

Romances that I might have had 
With every handsome passing lad 
Fill me with remorse. 
Oh, what is this, my faulty Fate 
That drops my handkerchief too late? 
My bad good sense, of course! 

AGAIN COME SPRING 

LUCY DUKE 

The lilac hedge will blossom out again 

And be the bluest thing I know, 

And once again against an April sky 

The apple trees will wave their boughs of snow. 

Again come spring I'll press white violets 
Against my face, oh, very hard, 
And weep because they are too beautiful 
And once again I shall believe in God. 

ADVICE 

D. D. DUNANN 

Only a few yearn to find 
The strings behind puppets. 
You have watched the action long enough. 
Leave the audience. Go backstage. 
Dismiss the play and the little costumes. 
Hunt for what you know is there. 
Take your time. Use your own eyes. 
There is nothing to lose except the seat 
You left and will never want again. 

[155] 



CHRISTMAS 

C. BLANCHE DUNCAN 

Memory weaves a glowing strand 

Here and there across the land, 

Ties each new Christmas with the last, 

Paints for us a picture vast 

Of many a jolly Christinas day. 

(A few of dull and sober gray.) 

Loved ones and friends, both new and old, 

We cherish you far more than gold. 

For you may we propose a toast - 

"May all the joys which heaven can boast 

Surround you daily on this earth, 

And fill your Christmas day with mirth " 



LINCOLN 

SAMUEL DUNIEVITZ 
I 

A Portrait 

Is the unique form and physiognomy the reflection of the inner man' 

I stop before the painting of striking figure of a great man. 

Strikingly taller than the average, 

Lean in flesh, bony with an enormous large forehead, reaching a thicl< 
crop of coarse, black hair. 

His thoughtful, wise, gray eyes appear like open gates for observa- 
tion, and entrance of fairness, wisdom, and truth. 

This intelligence with large chin and brow and expressive moutb 
tells of the higher understanding of the greatest hero in American 
history 

Abraham Lincoln. 

[156] 



II 

The Emancipator 

In all time past 

The note of leaders great 

Was the soul of the peoples' faith; 

The emancipation and liberation 
Of slavery and slave, 
A people and a nation to save 
Was the liberty and master sound, 
Voice of Lincoln. 

From the masses of the people he arose; 

He knew the faith within, 

The love that weaves and spins: 

Hope and progress for those 

They oppress, and deprive 

Of all things human and worthy in life. 

This disgrace to erase was the 

Task of Lincoln. 

The mind, the soul of the people 
With patience to uphold and admire, 
Human and noble aim to inspire. 

For realisation of freedom, 
The struggle for right, 
Was that noble fight 
That led the path to conquest 
And fame for Lincoln. 

The aim accomplished, 
Free is the slave; 
This Nation is safe 

From crumbling under the weight 
Of an unfair state. 
Fate, through an assassin, has robbed 
The Nation and the world of Lincoln. 
So this master of mind and soul 
Was the martyr for Freedom to fall. 



[157] 



Ill 

A Soul 

A soul is a heavenly vault, 
Wherein a goal to retain; 
When Time solves those truths, 
They in books compressed remain. 

And as light reflects in water, 
So a soul in souls is seen; 
Man there finds his solace, 
When compared the past has been. 



OUR FLAG 

ALTA H. DUNLAP 

I thank God for* the land of morning stars, 

Flag of red, white and blue 

Red of restitution, and constitution; 

White in purity of purpose and foundation; 

Blue of the firmament of individual liberty - 

Banner of safety over our ship of state, 

Undefeated in life's battle. 

Right is might; 

God is the only Power, 

He rules Supreme! 



NOCTURNE 

GOLDIE BEARD DUNLAP 

A silvered moon against a cloud of gold, 

A gentle breeze a robin's last call, 
The crooning frogs the night bugs' chant 

E'en to the cricket, cheeriest of all. 
Beyond the stretch of pastures green 

Myriads of trees reach up to touch the sky; 
All this: to see, to hear, to feel, 

When day is done, a time for solitude 
Before we seek repose in the arms of night! 

[158] 



A TEACHER'S PRAYER 

ISABELLE M. DUNN 

God, dear God, you willed me clay; 

Yet, 'tis I must show the way 

To a group of brave young souls, 

Eager eyes fixed on their goals. 

Make me worthy, Lord of mine, 

Give me just a spark divine; 

That, with the celestial fire, 

Those clear minds I may inspire, 

Give me patience, also tact; 

Let me not in anger act. 

They search my soul with candid eyes: 

I must not, Lord, the truth disguise. 

Never distant must I stand, 

Always near, with outstretched hand. 

I must know no race nor creed, 

But satisfy each pupil's need. 

Let me not by rule just teach, 

I must "practice what I preach." 

I have, Lord, a garden rare; 

Grant me, please, a harvest fair. 



REVERENCE 

JEANETTE DISSMEYER DUNK 

God built His own cathedrals 

Amongst the stately pines, 

Where flower faces all turn up 

To view a Heav'n Divine. 

Tis here that we, a favored few, 

Are privileged to be, 

To adore His own creations 

And escape reality. 



[159] 



MY TWO DREAMS 

VICKI DURAND 

(a son) 

A partner in life to help a load, 

One button that's gone after thrice having sewed, 
Two eyes showing mischief when cookies are missed, 

And when "good'night" comes, he longs to be kissed. 

A head that's been wet and the hair that's slicked down, 
After swimming a spell in a hole that's unfound, 

Two hands that are clean, for a dinner, when called, 
Or when reading a book, on a chair he is sprawled. 

A soul that is free from all evil and sin, 
Two gifts from a heart, no matter 'tis tin, 

A day that's well spent, with all kinds of good fun 
Is a dream that I prayed for, and God sent a son. 

(a girl) 
A door softly opened, avoiding a creak, 

One wee little kiss on a wee pink cheek, 
Two eyes tightly closed, with their curtains pulled down, 

Is a treasure no pirate has hidden, or found. 

A little pug nose, set in a small face, 

One tiny heart beat, giving life to each pace, 

Two arms slightly crossed over one's tiny breast 
Is a picture no artist could paint at his best. 

A head full of curls that tangle when combed, 

One tap on a hand, to teach fingers, that roamed, 

Two places to kiss after taking a whirl 

Is a dream that 1 prayed for, and God sent a girl. 

HAVE YOU WALKED WITH THE KING? 

MURIEL E. DYHRMAN 

Have you walked with the King as your partner? 
Have you taken Him with you each day? 
Can you say that your life is much fairer 
Since He is the Guide and the Way? 

[160] 



Have you walked with the King in the garden? 
Have you looked on His loveliness there? 
Has your soul overflowed with His beauty 
As you whispered His name in prayer? 

Have you walked with the King in the valley 
When your eyes have been blinded with tears? 
Have you felt His kind hand laid upon you 
In sorrowing sympathy dear? 

Can you say youVe been bought by the Saviour? 
Arc you saved and redeemed by His blood? 
Then love Him, Oh love Him forever, 
Praise God for His wonderful Word! 



TREES OF THE RIVERSHORE 

MARY DYSART 

Narrow's the shore and steep, the stream beside 

Bends here, bends there, the yellow waters slide, 
Meander from their ancient, quaggy mere, 

Pass the high precipice and the forest marge, 

Far woods, fields near; 
Wash deep this shore, where arc the trees thick set, 

Great sycamore, grows high, low, dry or wet; 
And willow, maple, birch, the stream oft near; 

Some aged in beauty, "midst the sprouts stand yet; 

And "midst them, the wilding violets bloom, 

And thick beflower the southward steep beside, 
Save, "neath autumn chill, have the sweet buds died. 

Trees, aged in beauty, their high tops o'er tower, 
There tender garlands green, the lofty branch embower, 

'Gaint the blue summer sky brightly they (gleam; 
Each bole out-thrusts their tree-large, bending bough, 

Far o'er the river-wave, in the bright flow, 
The birch-leaves dangle "neath the dancing beam. 



Vine'girdled, ample trunks, 

Lichen and moss adorn, "midst them dark stains 
Where from old, fissured ark, oak vinelets grow 

Thick leaves 'neath frost and slow down'drip of rain; 
Close creeps the lycopod to the farther bough, 

Timeless and strange, encircles branch and stem; 

The massy boles uprear, iron-rooted they, 

Stout as Pentelian stone, for e'er to prop 
The meadow o'er, of kine and fruitful crop; 

Plastered these pillared forms in the ivory clay 
Washed by winter flood, here long it lapped them 'bout, 

By Time and Nature's change to beauty fraught. 



A PRAYER 

MARY MCCOY EBERHART 



Lead on, O blessed Master, 

We put our hands in Thine, 
For all along life's highway 

We need Thy power divine. 
Hold fast! O blessed Sabiour, 

Forbid that we let go, 
If tasks and trials beset us, 

If pain and suffering flow; 
Enlighten us, Redeemer, 

To ever do^the right, 
And may our humble efforts 

Be pleasing in Thy sight. 
And when the year is ended, 

With many victories won, 
May we then have the inner joy 

To hear Thy praise "Well done. 

[162] 



TO A ROSE 

ANNE EICHHORN 

Each rose it is so beautiful, 
That God at morn must cry 
To lure such velvet from the earth 
For common eye to spy; 

His tears cling tight with arms unseen 
To every lip of red 
Till some ethereal prince descends 
To carry them overhead. 

The lips he gathered one by one 
While maidens slept beneath, 
On tiptoe through the amber sod 
He slipped them on a wreath; 

Within the bud he folded love, 
A heart did he bequeath, 
So when the sun doth bid to rise 
Love flees to souls that breathe. 



A SNOWY EVENING 

LUCILE ELDRIDGE 

Snow flurries flying thick and fast 
Falling and drifting from the sky 
Snownig as if it intended to last 
Until roads and hills in drifts do lie. 

Blocking all traffic for several days 
Forcing the schools to be closed for a time, 
Till snowplows and shovels can clear the way, 
For the young, the old, and those in their prime. 

[163] 



Then on the morrow when all is quiet, 

Old and young, we see them all 

Kids on their sleds, and the girls who will diet, 

Abiding and sledding, forgetting the falls. 

When birds once more will sing away, 
And cows are glad to be out again, 
And the snow is all gone, in a way 
I find myself longing for snow again. 



AUGUST 1941 

WILLIAM ELDRIDGE 

The path of sunlight spreads across the floor 

Swaying like a spector through the shadows 

Now speckled nonchalantly to the door 

With a throng of sunbeam desperadoes 

Stealing through the window to invade my room. 

The leaves" reflections in the sun assume 

Elusive, dancing patterns on the rug. 

A breeze disturbs the curtain's hanging poise 

Before the open window and a bug 

Walks up the pane until I make a noise 

That sends it flying toward the sun's decline 

Deep in the yellowpink horizon's line. 

The twilight settles on the afternoon 

Serenaded by an early cricket 

Harmonizing in the neighbor's thicket 

With the evening's lazy August swoon. 

Over cast, a passing freight train flashes 

Screeching through the wind's resistless sighing 

In a swooping "wave of iron crashes 

Mounting to a swift crescendo, dying 

In the swiftly covered distance. Quiet 

Suddenly returns as now the distant air 

Digests the smoke clouds added to its diet. 

A dog starts whining down the street, somewhere, 

To ease the impact of the freight train's screech. 

[164] 



A radio goes on and from its reach 

Of kilocycles comes a heavy voice 

That beats upon the atmosphere nearby. 

The laughter of a child rings clear and choice 

Upon the peaceful street, and listening I 

Am seated on the sofa gleaning, 

Probing, searching for a meaning. 



MEMORIES OF THE SEA 

LOUISE ELLIS 



A stretch of beach 

A span of sky 
A horizon out of reach 

A star on high. 

A ship in full sail 

With wings wide spread, 
Riding out the gale 

That howls overhead. 

Water whipped into a foam 
By the ever restless sea. 

Birds that are far from home 
Resting safely in the lee. 

These are my memories 
Of the place I long to be. 

These are my thoughts of 

The ever changing, restless sea. 



[1651 



MEMORIES 

BETTY MARIE ELLIS 



Memories are houses 
Along the way of life, 
Little inns of cheerfulness, 
Or hovels built from strife. 
Memories are vessels 
Upon the foam of dreams, 
Galleons of adventure, 
Or freighters, so it seems 
Memories are churches 
Within a town of sin; 
The doors are ever open; 
Come, let us enter in. 



A NURSE'S TASK 

WINIFRED ELLIS 

To work is not just to do to have it done. 

But to labor hard until the battle is won. 

Each deed must be to lessen another's burden. 

Remember, each task done is only a prayer answered. 

From your Nightingale pledge be never swerved. 

When the sun behind the clouds has gone, 

Let on your lips a new resolution be born. 

Kneel, and to God say, "Today my task has begun." 

Tomorrow each step shall be a ladder's rung. 

[166] 



POWER OF THOUGHT 

ELIZABETH 

Loving thoughts from quiet moments 
Grow like trees to Spirit skies. 
Heaven's light amid their branches 
Bids the weary soul to rise. 
Thus from many a humble hamlet 
Comes a force that never dies, 
Reaches forth for broken heartstrings, 
Soothes some weary wanderer's cries. 

Everyone may have this power, 
All can send forth thoughts that cheer, 
Cause the plant of hope to flower 
In some life that's sad and drear. 
Kindly thoughts will cheer and bless 
Tender hearts that hard words sere. 
Thoughts that cost the sender naught 
Often are like gems most rare. 

Evil thoughts may cause disaster, 
Blight some earnest, hopeful soul. 
Will you ever be the richer if you 
Cause a soul's downfall? 
Evil thoughts will travel far 
With power that would appall. 
Likewise helpful thoughts will grow 
To blessings rich for one and all. 



SUNSET 

RUBY ENER 



If I were a painter, 
Fd take my brush in hand, 
And paint the lovely sunsets 
All up and down this land. 



[167] 



God has used his colors 
And blended them in the sky, 
As a sign of courage 
To the weary passers-by. 

When their day's work is over, 
And they've done their very best 
The sunset is a promise 
That soon will come rest. 

When I see the dark clouds 
On which the sun is shining, 
It's then I know every dark cloud 
Has a silver lining. 

Flow it makes my heart rejoice 
When the beauty I behold, 
And know the paint brush of God 
Has touched it with His gold. 



MY TRUST 

GENEVA EPPES 

God, I've made an awful mess of things! 

Each hour elusive opportunities brings: 
Opportunities too wonderful to clasp 

Within a mere mortal's grasp. 

Yet, Dear God, at birth of day, 
(With no doubt in my mind 

As to what I --would find 
At eve's end of the way) 

I mixed Your colors gay-- 

And made a dingy gray! 
I missed and muffed each opportunity 

And got by with impunity! 

[168] 



Impunity? Yes, except from me/ 
I know the hopes of each hour, 

The loveliness of each flower, 
The cherished plans of Thee! 

I knew but did not stop to think 

That You use indelible ink; 
That the prints our actions traced 

Can never, never be erased. 

But for one thing I pray: 

With the help of Your guiding hand, 
And a vision of the way You've planned, 

Let me make a worthwhile day: 

Because, God, I ruined Your yesterday. 



WHOSE FAULT 

ANNA MAE ERDMANN 

Whose fault is it? That we do not have 

Great spreading wings of purest white, 
That surge with us on an upward flight, 

Above all this taint of mortal strife, 
Into the fulness of a perfect life? 

Whose fault is it? That our thoughts should lead 

To darkness, woe and black despair, 
To dull unending care and need, 

That blends our backs and dims our eyes, 
And fills our life with tears and sighs? 

Whose fault is it? That we do not say, 

Dear parents, this is your job, that God has set apart 
To teach reverence for freedom, life, liberty and pride, 

To battle for human rights, yet always strive, 
That freedom always shall survive. 



[169] 



REVERIE AT EVENTIDE 

CHRISTEL M. ERDMANN 



The time of day that I love best, 
Of gracious calm and solitude. 

That never fails to give me rest 
Is eventide, when none intrude, 

Before the rising hills I stand 

Revelling in God's wondrous work: 
Beauty, spread o'er all the land, 

A task that Nature can not shirk. 
Homeward-bound in reverie, 

The firmament with stars aglow; 
Complacency steals softly o'er me, 

Setting the world aright below. 



CALL OF PEACE 

BESS GRATZ ERICKSON 

There's a call of peace in the heart of man, 

Through the spirit hear it sing; 

Now the busy days, now the days of rest, 

And we hear sweet music ring. 

To the tune of joy in the universe, 

When the course of hope is true, 

With the heart of man warm in radiant light 

Under skies of heavenly blue. 

There's a call of peace in the heart of youth 

As he whistles and works and plays, 

Through the busy hour he finds a joy 

As he lives through happy days; 

In the spring of life as the body grows, 

And the mind is frank and clear, 

Then the lessons of right are chosen to keep. 

From within there is no fear. 

[170] 



There's a call of peace in the heart of love 

As it wanders through human life, 

With its wistful hopes and joyous moods, 

Through the days with endless strife; 

From the heart of love comes that joy and song, 

And the harmony it brings 

Tells of highest hopes in the human heart 

As throughout the earth it sings. 

There's a call of peace in the heart of earth, 

With a firm hand over all; 

In the human heart and mind is heard 

The clear, firm, gentle call. 

The message heard is the voice of peace, 

From all earth and rock and pool, 

Listen human heart, and youth and love 

To the words of the Golden Rule. 



CLIMBING 

BEATRICE GRIFFIN ESBORG 

There are times when life is a climb 
And the top of the hill far away, 
And sometimes it's dark, no morning in sight, 
And you long for the sight of the day. 

And yet if you climb each upward step 
You know that you must reach the height, 
And over the hill comes the morning's bright beam 
And your way will be flooded with light. 

Oh, the sky is so big and the valley so far 
You'll forget the hard climb to your goal 
And you'll walk in the radiant light of the day 
With peace and content in your soul. 



TO A YOUNG MOTHER 

SISTER MARY ESTELLE, O.P. 

You hold within your arms, my dear, 

Heaven's loveliest gift to earth 

Flesh of your fashioning, 

A fragile, yet divinest thing, 

For 'twas the Breath of God which gave it birth; 

And all the beauty of summer skies 

Are naught beside the hidden glory, 

Sweet hints of immortality 

Which shine from out a baby's azure eyes! 



ENGLAND IN SEPTEMBER 

PATRICIA ELY FALLON 

I know that England must be white like this 

Upon a mid'September moonlit night, 
When all the fields are blanketed in mist 
And earth lies still in reverent quietness 

Spell-bound; hushed, before God's holy sight. 

I've never been in England, yet I know, 

That this same velvet air breathes on the hill, 

And touches lightly where the sumacs grow. 

In this, my land, I've loved the autumn so, 

Yet on another smitten shore I feel I'd love it still. 

[172] 



SILENT SERMON 

DEL FAMBROUGH 

I watched sunlight through stained glass 

Today in church. 

It fell in little rainbows on the brow of a sleeping child. 

It pooled its rosiness on a lover's absent face 

And kissed an old man's faded head 

Again to gold. 

I watched until his mother woke the child, 
The lover rose, startled, and the old man fumbled 

for his cane. 

I had not heard the sermon, 
And I was ashamed . . . 

Yet, walking away, I remembered the touch of sunlight 

Through stained glass, 

And I went back and stood alone 

In the crimson silence there, 

And watched the rainbow -filtered sun 

Lie on the empty pews. 

And somehow, solitary there, 

I was strangely near 

To God. 



ALL FOUR 

RITA FANELLI 

Summertime is stillness, 

Laziness of warmth, 

Songs that echo throbbing; 

Gold from sky to earth, 

And on the earth full bloom that reaches up to sky. 

Autumn is a quick-gold, 

Laughing of the wind, 

Leaves in falling flightfuls; 

Momentary respite 

Before the bitterness of cold shall touch the earth. 



[17?] 



Wintertime is ice^blue, 

Clearness of the cold, 

Snow to frost black branches; 

Silence with the snow 

But still a roar of firesides and still the ring of bells. 



SCENES 

RUTH FARLEY 

I shall remember my days here, 
The dull classes, the people I met, 
Memories that will always remain dear; 
Scenes that will be with me yet. 

And when I live only in the past 

Such scenes will come back to me 

The chapters in my life that have been cast, 

But only the pleasant things shall I see. 

The sad, unpleasant words shall go unread 
As I turn each old, worn, and tattered page 
Of my life here, but yet are dead, 
Gone, and sunk in the depth of age. 



AUTUMN BEAUTY 

FLORA FARNSWORTH 

A blending haz;e that grays the color 
Through forests where a murmuring mystery 
Pervades their mystic serenity; 
Over reaches of hill and dale 
Softening scars of many a gale; 
To mountain heights against the sky 
Where blues and purples often lie 
Cloaking distant green with blue; 
Awaits all the nature lovers 
With analogies in lovely colors. 

[174] 



INCONSTANCY 

RAY MCGONNELL FAUGHT 

A faded note, 

A rose or two, 

That's all that I have left of you. 

A memory 

Of love long past, 

And happiness that could not last. 

How beautiful 

Our hopes so high, 

How sure we were they would not die. 

What bitterness 

Those months apart, 

Your photograph deep in my heart. 

It's over now, 

And I am glad 

Because I would not have you sad. 

Though once I thought 
My heart would break, 
Our love was just one big mistake. 

How clearly now 

I see 'twas wrong. 

I never knew till you were gone. 

You've found another 

Love, I hear, 

And now I know I did not care. 

I love anew 

Also, you see, 

I'm glad that you've forgotten me. 

But, oh, my dear, 

I'd lose all gain 

To hold you in my arms again. 



[175] 



FINIS CORONATOPUS 

OLIVE J. FAULKNER 



A sense of pain and anguish, 

A writhing in the dust, 
A struggle to keep living 

As the humble know they must; 

Then a touch of some secretion, 

And the pain is less to bear 
Some call it Natural Instinct, 

And others call it Care. 
A yearning for affection, 

A need to work for pay, 
Eagerness for the future 

Hard earned along the way; 

Then the toil that's done for merit, 
Yet the needy have their share 

Some call it Faithful Duty, 
But others call it Care. 

A spark of love then action, 
A need, and the will to do, 

A kindness born of suffering, 
And a vague desire come true; 

Then the hope of all the ages 
Mingled in a fervent prayer 

Some say 'tis Love and Knowledge. 
And others say, 'tis Care. 



CULTURE 

HARRY JAMES FAZZINA 

I am the pollen grains of life, 
Blown about by the jealous winds of fate; 
And where I linger, the flower of faith blooms. 
For I am the esthetic, the artistic, the sublime. 

[176] 



Where I am not, there is strife, 

And the ominous cloud of hate 

Bathes all mankind in its murky cloak of gloom; 

And death drinks deeply of the slaughtered mind. 



THEY SLEEP 

MARY G. FERGUSON 

They sleep beneath the shadows of the clouds, 

Careless, alike, of sunshine or of storm, 

Each in their windowless palace of rest. 

They sleep while the cold gray funeral shroud 

Clothes all that remains of each earthly form. 

Hands, that once served so well, folded across each breast. 

Reposing beside shaggy headed peaks, where mountains touch the 

sky. 

They feel not the mystic kiss of rain, nor beaded drop of dew. 
Nor do they see the blushing sunset glow, the twilight, or the dawn. 
Unmindful of the rumble as thunder speaks to the clouds that 

tremble by, 

They sleep, eyes closed, in peaceful slumber 'neath heaven's blue. 
Lips are sealed to speak no more, but are they gone? 

Yes, to join the happy throng; they become immortal. 

They dwell in the sun that shines on yonder hill. 

And keep faith with those who trusted in Thee. 

Their spirits rejoice, as they enter Celestial portals. 

'They are risen, the Saviour's promise has been fulfilled. 

They sleep, but the voice cries out, arise, awake, for thou art free 

To dwell in the house of the Lord 

Till the tide shall bring the body to the eternal shore. 

To be united with the soul and bid them enter the Shepherd's Keep. 

They will sing with the Heavenly Host in sweet accord. 

Hallelujah! We live again in God forevermore. 

They sleep, ah, how peacefully our nurses sleep. 

[177] 



A RENDEZVOUS WITH LIFE 

BEN FIELD 

I have a rendezvous with life 

In that envisaged sphere 
Where we are done with war and strife 

And bitterness and fear. 

On some high hill among the stars 

I shall exultant climb, 
To know the deeds of avatars, 

Inspirited, sublime. 

Ill keep that dazzling rendezvous 

When death comes beckoning - 
And one I know will keep it too, 

There on the verge of spring. 



THE BIRDS WILL SING 

LYDIA FISHER 

The birds will sing alluring lays, 
When spring returns again and plays 
Her harps in tops of emerald trees 
And woos the flowers with whispered breeze 
Through lovely, long, light, lazy days. 

When thoughts are chill like wind that stays 
And makes us long for balmy Mays, 
Do not forget, after the^freeze 
The birds will sing. 

Though breasts may burn with pain that flays 
All thought of joys and happier ways, 

Yet Faith has schooled us, each believes 
That after ache of heart that grieves, 
Sweet peace will come, and roundelays 
The birds will sing. 

[178] 



JUST YOU 

MARY W. FISHER 

Autumn's crimsoning on the highway, 
Autumn's skies, cerulean blue, 
Make me glad that I am living, 
And have known and loved 
Just you. 

Wavering hearts may wander widely; 

Life has varied roads for all; 

But from youth to ripened manhood 

I have loved you; 

That is all. 

Now I know my country calls me: 
I must answer, I must go; 
If I fall in foreign countries, 
I have loved you, 
This I know. 



BALM FROM MY GARDEN 

ANNA L. FITTEN 

My garden does such things for me! 

Intrigues me into reverie 
When troubled, hurried, or obsessed 

Invites me to slow down and rest. 
I note that butterfly and bee, 

Wild flying past me, feel the call 
Of garden sweetness poise and sip. 

I read the purpose of it all. 



[179} 



I breathe the pungency of herbs' balm; 

The wafting breezes bring me calm; 
Honeysuckle's languid sweetness 

Brings relaxation near completeness; 
The sky overhead so heavenly blue! 

In the wondrous magical melting hue 
My mental clouds of somber gray 

Have lightened till they sailed away. 

As sunlight pierces vaulted skies 

Over my garden, I realise 
Its guiding power: my strength from above 

Unfailing, e'erhealing, Our Father's love. 
Nevermore hopeless or in despair 

But trusting in His tender care. 
My toil is but a simple fee! 

My garden does such things for me! 



OCTOBER 

ANNIS FLETCHER 

Fling to the wind your every care 
And fill your soul with pleasure rare 
It's autumn and the woodlands ring 
With music only thrushes sing. 

The trees are decked in lovely tints 
Through which the golden sunshine glints. 
Spreading fields of brown and green 
Are softened by a mellow sheen. 

Rivers and lakes sparkling and clear 
Reflect the colors far and near. 
Drink of this beauty while you may 
For it may vanish in a day. 

When you've glimpsed this bit of heaven, 
Hold it for tomorrow's leaven 
'Twill warm the heart and make it light 
And you will feel that life's still bright. 

[180] 



HOME 

MARGARET REED FLOREY 

Dirty little shoes 

Tracking up my floor, 

Chubby dimpled hands 

That forget and slam the door; 

A ball, a doll, a little chair, 

Toys scattered everywhere; 

Measles, mumps a sleepless night, 

Ceaseless worry, sudden fright; 

A baby face, a curly head, 

An ivory chest, a cradle bed; 

A little child upon my breast 

With all these things I have been blest; 

No other joys with these compare 

For they make a home a place so rare. 



SONNET 

DOROTHY SWEET FORMAN 

Does one laugh still when laughter melts away? 

Does one live on when sun and stars are gone? 

Will happiness a memory become, 

And love a relic of the past alway? 

I wonder if God's hand holds time today 

Or if the hours only seem too long? 

When will I know if I am right or wrong, 

A dreamer, or a potter of the clay? 

Can this be but beloved memory, 

A melting snowflake on deep drifts of mind? 

Let love continue through eternity, 

If happiness and worship that we find 

Be love; and if but passing fancy holds us now, 

Let joy claim us today this us allow. 



[181] 



WORLD WAR II 

MABEL FOSLER 

Unseeing mobs go hurrying by, 

Step by step they march side by side; 

None heed the danger signal or the cry 

NO light ahead! There is a pitfall wide! 

To reason or to think brings pain, 

So on they must "Bah, bah! 1 ' as dumb sheep will, 

Never to travel back again 

"Victory", you say? All is still! 
A quest for Peace none sees it in the home, 
So put on boots and shoot you'll do it anyway. 
It does not do, to thin\ or stand alone, 
Do what others do bound hand and foot, you are today! 
NO quest for Peace! NO goal! Not done! 
Until We have no Pope! No King! No Gold! NO Throne! 



BURNING PASSION 

LETTY FRIEDLANDER 

Burning passions within me 

Surge about inside 

And pound upon my heart 

Which slowly turns to rock 

Intense feelings which pierce 

My igneous heart 

Like the diamond's cutting edge. 

Cold chatter about me, 

Carefree as a sunny day. 

Yet within me 

The strongest of electric storms 

Hails icy pangs into my heart. 

With such contrast 

Between fair chatter 

And stormy emotions, 

There should be a rainbow, 

[182] 



A beautiful escape for me. 

Think to be able to 

Climb the thin strands 

Of golden threads 

Which reflect the colors of the sun 

And tread lightly up 

And over the cold chatter 

Of tongues that just clatter 

For the mere hearing's sake 

Monotonous, cold, cruel chatter. 



SUNSET 

LOISCLAIRE FRIEDMAN 

The sunset glows between the trees, 
The leaves are rustled by the breese. 
The red and green and gold and blue 
Sing sweet songs to me of you. 

WE WHO LOVED THE SEA 

ADDIE FUNDERBURKE 

Feel no sadness at the sight of waves 
That rock us gently in our graves. 
Feel no grief as the billows sweep 
Above us in eternal sleep. 

By sod and stone we are not bound; 
We lie beneath no marbled ground. 
No crusted clay binds us there; 
No solemn shroud do we wear. 

There lie above no dying flowers 
That mark the end of mortal hours. 
No epitaph stands at our head, 
A cold reminder of the dead. 

No mournful dirge as on the day, 
When dust to dust is laid away. 
For us the sea sings a lullaby 
As everlasting as the sky. 

[183] 



In death we lie below the waves, 

As do those noble Indian braves, 

Who have with them their roans to ride; 

So we have ships on every side. 

It is not for us who loved the spray 
To be sealed in steel and put away 
From all the things that brought us cheer 
Things seaman and sailors want to be near. 

We were followers of the foam, 
Who made the sea our adopted home. 
And now that our watch on deck is ended, 
We've gone below by death attended. 



THE MOUNT 

AUDREY GANN 

I struggled mob'ridden up Calvary 

With bitter, burning heart, 
The weight of the cross laid upon me 

Was more than due my part. 

I reached the brow of Calvary, 

My spirit was crucified; 
And on the cross a creature of life 

Outnumbered but unconquered died. 

I awoke. Calvary was a dream 
Of a struggling soul mob-ridden, 

And a quickened heart responded 
To a truer heavenly vision. 

'Twas Herman's side I mounted, 
Reached a most glorious goal, 

And brought to the life that waited 
A radiant transfigured soul. 

[184] 



THIS FAITH 

EDDIE GAONA 

Faith has fought many a fight 
And never one was lost, 
Faith is light on the darkest night 
And of our destinies faith is boss. 

As faith grows love is manifested, 
By faith our love for God is tested. 
If our hopes are big and faith is small, 
We might as well not hope at all. 

For you are beaten from the start 

If you venture forth with a doubtful heart. 

But if you're armed with faith in God 

And in your fellowman, 

You are armed with a weapon 

No earthly force can withstand. 



LISTEN TO ME 

LYTT I. GARDNER 

Listen to me, you Americans! 

Your misguided brother 

Across the sea 

Is led by one who beats his breast 

And swears to crush you. 

Listen to me, you Americans! 
You have the strength of the hybrid 
And none of his sterility. 
You are the superior race 
Because you are all races. 

Listen to me, you Americans! 
You are the Tower of Babel 
When Babel has ceased. 
You are the giant of many tongues 
And many sinews. 



[185] 



A PUNCHER CHOOSES 

BEULA M. GARLAND 



I am a young cowpuncher 

And my home is in the west; 

Fve heard of glorious cities 
But this prairie suits me best. 

I like to sit by the campfire 
And strum my old guitar, 

Turn my eyes to heaven 
And fix "em on a star. 

I'm a-humming and a'singin" 

"Home on the Range 17 , 
A'hopin" and a'wishin" 

Things will never change. 

At night between my blankets 
I lie and blink my eyes, 

Wonderin' if Fll ever go 

To that home beyond the skies 

My bed is in the desert sand, 
My pillow is my pack; 

My gun lies close beside me 
In case of surprise attack. 

So I dream and wonder 

Life is but a book. 
Never mind your language 

Nor how you're gonna look. 

So take your gals and cities, 
Night clubs and a car, 

But give me a western campfire 
And my old guitar. 

[186] 



NEW YORK 

(To Airaee and Carroll) 

HARRIET GARRETT 

Would the magic in its name become reality 
When I should see at night its myriad gleams? 

Would sight confirm the vision I had conjured up 
Since childhood days, the city of my dreams? 

But there it lay in early morning mistiness 
More wondrous than the beauty I had sought! 

An ache was in my throat as I beheld through tears 
This miracle that God and man had wrought! 

The Hudson with its bridge and lofty Palisades; 

Liberty Enlightening the World; 
Skyscrapers; graceful spires; great ships upon the sea; 

Humanity before my eyes unfurled! 

Though I should see no more this city of my dreams, 
,1 hold a part of "little old New York!" 

For etched upon my heart and soul, Fifth Avenue, 
Times Square, and Thirty -fourth have left their mark! 



LEGACY 

RUTH IVES GARRETT 

Since you have gone, they wonder why I find 

My joy in time beyond the dusk, in this 

Severe, dim hush, and not in any times 

Which they believe, should help me to forget. 

With grieved hearts, they still sigh that I prefer 

This solitude, these long nocturnal hours: 

Oh, they would li\e to keep my mind awake 

With light, with gay discourse, with late tumult, 

And leave me no small moment for myself. 

Dear, thoughtful, worried friends! Not one of them 

Can realize I love the silent, private dark, 

Because you left me jewelled memories 

Whose brilliant facets sparkle, live, against 

The muted, ebon velvet folds of night. 

[187] 



OLD WYOMING 

ALICE M. GATES 

Come out to old Wyoming, 
Where air is fresh and clean. 

Where rolling plain and towering peak 
And great stone faces seem to speak. 

Where ranches nestle here and there, 
And coyotes linger in their lair. 

Where dinosaurs of long ago 
Lie buried in the ground. 

Where fossils large and arrowheads, 
Are scattered all around. 

Where trees are lying petrified, 

And agate fields are broad and wide. 

Where cowboys tall and straight and slim, 
Chase down the cows with shout and din. 

Where old stage coaches of the west, 
Traveled the route of the pony express. 

Come out to old Wyoming, 
Where wonders still abound. 



SONG OF THE BROOK 

HELEN M. GATES 

The brook goes tumbling along, along, 
Down through the wooded ravine. 
It lilts a tuneful, gay sweet song, 

[188] 



Of rocks and of trees that lean 

Over its noisy, rollicking self 

Hovering over the stream, 

To hear what it sings, the wayward elf, 

As catching the sun's bright beam, 

It shimmers, dances, and does not cease 

Chanting its glad refrain 

Of birds and blossoms and Spring's release, 

Over and over again. 



TO JEAN 

IRENE E. GATES 

Sonny Scarlet Fever Bug had reached the adult span, 

So he laid his chin upon his knees 

And said, "Now I'm a man. 

My future I must ponder, 

May love be my only fate. 

So he picked his chin up off his knees 

And went searching for a mate. 

In a dusky, dark, damp corner 
Of a contaminated room 
Sat Suzy Scarlet Fever Bug. 
Her heart was full of gloom. 
For Susy Scarlet Fever Bug 
Had reached the adult span. 
Her only lonely, girlish thought 
Was, "Gee, I want a man." 

So fate was kind and their paths crossed, 

Sonny their troth did plight. 

So hand in hand the two bugs went, 

In love, out in the night. 

Their steps were light with love's young dream, 

Their happy feet did roam, 

Until their wanderings found them 

Upstairs in the Nurses' Home. 

[189] 



Sonny looked into Susy's eyes 

Her love passed every test. 

So all they needed to find just now 

Was a home for a love nest. 

The closest door to the top of the stairs 

They sneaked under cautiously 

And gazed about in utmost awe 

Their hearts were full of glee. 

For here in a lovely square-cornered bed 

Lay their future home and more 

A warm and dampened trachea 

And a pink throat to make so sore. 

They scooted hand in hand up Jean's smooth chin 

And down her throat so free, 

Started housekeeping then and there 

And raised a family. 

They sent out warning signals 
That they had squatter's rights, 
And whatever person interfered, 
These bugs would start some fights. 
The oldest Scarlet Fever child 
Was appointed as a guide 
He'd holler every p.r.n. 
"Scram! Here's Sulfanilamide." 

And Sonny Scarlet Fever Bug 

\Vith chin upon his knee 

\Vould pound his hairy chest and rave, 

'"They can't do this to me. 

I bought this property called Jean, 

And want just home and peace. 

For twcnty'one days here we'll abide 

Then I'll tear up the lease." 

YOU ARE MY MUSE 

JOHN STUART GATES 

If Sidney's Muse came from its realm 
Saying, "Tool look in thy heart and write," 
If Cupid Spenser's own Muse was, 

[190] 



Why not to me of lesser might? 
You are my Muse, my consolation; 
You are fair in my estimation. 

If Jonson's Celia moved his pen 
To sweet love's tender supremacy, 
If Silvia Shakespeare's song did cause, 
Then, Amourette, you can move me. 
You are my Muse, my purest desire; 
You are the one my pen to inspire. 

Before Poe's Annabel Lee tuned him 

To high poetic majesty, 

Helen of Troy stirred countless pens 

So you who are my Muse, move me. 

My own pen is artless without throne; 

You are my Muse: my words are yours alone. 

Your starlit eyes are stainless, clear; 
Your noblest gift a spotless heart. 
Your nectar did a vow incur; 
Yourself of me became a part. 
You are my Muse, my last fame to be; 
You have proved immortality. 



FAITH 

SUSAN RUTH GEORGE 

"Dear Lord," I prayed, "direct my feet." 

The day was fair and calm. 
The path I trod seemed right and sweet. 
Then suddenly an unseen hand 
Reached out and drew me back. 
I could not understand. 



[191] 



Blindly I stumbled, for my day 

Had suddenly grown black. 

"Dear Lord," I prayed, "direct my way, 

I can not see, I do not know, 

The darkness blinds my eyes, 

I fear, I dare not go." 

Then in the dark I placed my hand 
Within His strong sure one, 
And though I could not understand, 
I prayed, "Dear Lord, direct my way." 
The clouds rolled back and there, 
A yawning chasm lay. 



AMERICAN SOLDIERS AT WAR 
(December 7 and 9, 1942) 

CARL GUSTAV GEORGI 

A year ago three nations 
From far across the sea 
Sent word from short wave stations 
That we in war must be. 

And now the ships are flying 
And steaming south, east, west, 
Colossal bombers vying 
In war's gigantic zest. 

And soldiers by the millions 
Are on the way to shoot; 
Arms, worth -two hundred billions 
And more, want work "en route." 

No war has yet affected 
Our country's total toil 
As this war, now enacted 
On foreign globewide soil. 

[192] 



Thus backed, with heads victorious 
And hearts prepared, we fight 
To win things that will free us 
And others from this plight. 

But when the war is ended, 
We rest and breathe relief 
And hope that soon may be mended 
The agony of grief. 

And trust that peace be lasting 
Like Lincoln's, made of yore; 
That nations be not blasting 
Each other any more! 



THE SEASON'S ENDED 



Flowers dying, 
Sere leaves lying, 
Here and there. 

Birds are winging 
Southward singing, 
Everywhere. 

Shy suns glowing; 

Days are growing 

Short and cold. 

What's the reason? 
It's the season 
The year's old. 

Bronze days reigning; 
Shadows feigning 
Life is done. 

The world's at peace 
For life has ceased. 
Benediction. 



KATHERINE GRRDES 



[193] 



DEATH 

BETTIE GEREN 

I often pause and wonder why 

So many people fear to die. 

When life is harsh and full of tears, 

Why should we dread the coming years? 

If life is full of toil and pain, 
In life we lose, in death we gain; 
If all our efforts bring no fruit, 
Then why not treasure death as loot? 

If you have kept your honor bright, 
Await with joy the coming night. 
If you have labored long and hard, 
God will be generous with reward. 



THE IMPONDERABLE 

GEORGE F. GETTY 

Within this dreamland fantasy of love 

And passion, hate and chill remorse, we roam 

Like goal-forbidden, lonesome children of 

A vagrant dream; sad beings without home 

And yet belonging to eternity: 

Sad minstrels of a short, chaotic tune, 

Sad jesters of the drab fraternity, 

Sad champions of the bright but waning moon. 

Lost, mist-enshrouded phantoms bound between 
The topless chasm walls that hem our years 
And hide the stars; along a common mean 
We clash immortal destinies with mortal fears. 

Mere dreamers in a void of dreams, and yet 
Mere dreamers that may wake and then forget. 

[194] 



EASTER MORN 

MAE GIBBS 

TIS Easter morn, beneath the trees I stand, 

And watch the glowing pageant in the skies, 

For some day through the clouds of beauty grand, 

A wondrous sight will greet my straining eyes; 

The Lord is risen, exactly as He said, 

The prophecies concerning Him are filled. 

He lives! He lives! The Saviour is not dead; 

He is risen my trembling heart is thrilled. 

And since He lives and forevermore shall reign, 

The prophecies concerning Him are true, 

He will keep His covenant with men; 

I repeat His promises anew, 

And always watching is my hungry heart, 

Unsatisfied with things of earth or main, 

Until sweet music waves the clouds apart, 

And He keeps His promise and returns again 

So mute beneath the silent trees I stand, 

And look into the glowing eastern skies, 

For some day through the rose-pink beauty grand, 

A wondrous sight will greet my straining eyes. 



A STORY AT TWILIGHT 

ELA MAYE GILL 

It is night and the firelight is shedding its beam, 
Upturned childish faces and shining eyes gleam, 
Cheeks tinged with pleasure while mother sits by, 
With words of old stories in soft lullaby. 
Every home has this hour when busy day is o'er, 
As twilight steals in through the half open door. 
Entertainment as well as a moral to teach, 
So vital its object the young heart to reach. 
'Twas begun when old bards went from door to door, 
Full stock of old ballads and with legends galore 
To recite for the asking a most popular trade. 

[195] 



The minds of the youths were thus musically made. 
Deep influence on lives their shining rays cast, 
In visions of eye these characters last, 
The scenes conjure up in real life rare, 
All succeeding events imagination to share. 

In the heralds of Heaven I think I can hear, 
Near the throne soft voices as twilight draws near. 
Sainted mothers will always their duties pursue, 
Their children gather 'round and enjoy it, too. 
God's approving smile will rest on the scene, 
His ear catch the moral, His loving eyes beam, 
Perhaps back in Nazareth at His old home once more, 
His memory goes back to that half open door; 
He can see His old home in those days of old. 
Then He thinks of the stories His mother once told. 
Childhood days are the sweetest; though years have flown 
He has never forgotten His parents and home. 
Inscribed on heart walls it will always remain 
Memories travel back to that old home again. 
Though years have flown by with women and men, 
Tonight up in Heaven they are children again. 



SATISFIED 

BURL H. GILLUM 

I may not realize my brightest dream, 

I may never reach the top of highest peak, 

And in my hands may never really gleam 

Rare jewels that I seek. 

But may I happy contentment find 

And ever press towards that goal 

That brings to me peace of mind 

And satisfies my soul. 

[196] 



Fve searched through all my fruitless years 

For joy to abide and compensate 

The loneliness and bitter tears 

That crush me with their weight; 

But now to faith I gladly cling 

And know that I will surely find 

By working daily for my King 

A wondrous peace of mind. 



PUSH BACK THE NIGHT 

GENE VIE GOFF 

Polish bright our swords and shields, 
Wash clean our festered wounds, 
Bind up our sore and bleeding hearts 
With words, such as a mother croons 

Tell us, oh Lord, just once again 

That God and good in man remain; 

That there is singing still of liberty 

A word now in disuse; 

That somewhere men unchained and free 

Hold fast their own integrity 

Their minds not seeking ways to give abuse. 

Give us the power to believe 

That truth and beauty still are strong and good 

Not nets of lies and hatred which deceive. 

Give us the glory of a steady flame 

A lantern held aloft with light. 

Lead us at length from out this awful wood! 

Though drenched with tears and sweat and blood, 

Help us, we pray, burst through this night. 

Give us, oh God, we deeply pray, 

The faith that through this bitter dark 

There dawns a fairer, brighter day, 

And higher and more free will soar the eagle and the lark! 



[197] 



And for this 
Hallowed ever 
Be Thy Name 



GRACE 

DAISY MARIE GOLDEN 

I found myself alone with God, 

Prostrate before His face; 
I begged Him long and earnestly, 

"Oh, Lord, please give me grace." 

At first I asked for happiness 

To make the burden light, 
And then I begged for peace and love: 

I thought that I was right. 

But while I prayed a still small voice 

Spoke gently in my soul, 
"Tis not my love nor joy nor peace. 

But grace that makes thec whole." 

The tears began to fall like rain, 
My soul gave way with grief, 

I fainted, I revived again, 
But did not get relief. 

Just then I somehow raised my head. 

And Lo! Gethsemane! 
I saw my Saviour struggling there 

For poor unworthy me. 

So now I ask not love and peace 

To sweeten the cup to taste, 
Nor do I beg for happiness 

While adversity I face. 

I simply pray, 'Thy will be done," 

In me and every place. 
Fve found the joy and happiness 

Tis asking God for grace. 

{198] 



INCIDENTS IN THE LIFE OF LINCOLN 

ESTELLA GOLDSMITH 

Can you picture his pioneer parents in a cabin rudely built, 
With a bright and happy baby cuddled 'neath a bearskin quilt? 
And in childhood see him listening by his mother's side 
As she reads the Bible stories with a saintly pride. 
Then see him in the forest where his alert mind could 

Gain knowledge from the animals 

The children of the wood. 

Oh, see the boyish pride as he views the new'built hut 

Made of rough-hewn logs that he and his father cut. 

Next, he's writing to a minister about his great grief, 

Asking for his mother's memory a service if only brief. 

See the boy trudging mile upon mile, a meager education to get, 

Then in sprawling posture before the fireplr.ce more knowledge he 

may net. 

Visualise the lawyer as both beast and man he assists 
From the enthrallments of the sticky slime and the criminal lists. 
Ever forging forward until he gains the legislative seat, 
Here his wisdom and clear vision could never meet defeat. 
When in the throes of great distress our nation sent out a call, 
He responded and the people put him in the Presidential Hall. 
Oh the greatness of that soul on that day in sixty-three 
When he signed that great decree which set a people free! 
Oh such a great loss his untimely death was to the nation! 
And yet how gloriously he has been revered by each generation. 

WILLIE'S DREAM 

LUCY GOODENOUGH 

Willie's on the garden gate 

Swinging to and fro, 
Gating long and lovingly 

At the garden row. 

There's a mighty pumpkin 

With green and crooked neck, 
"I'm saving it for Hallowe'en, 

I'll scare you, too, by heck." 

[199] 



Yes, Willie gazes longingly. 

And plans within his mind. 
Of huge and fiery goblins 

With witches to combine 

Soon mother comes a'tripping 

In through the garden gate. 
Directly to that pumpkin 

And there she hesitates. 

Willie's heart is sinking fast. 

His eyes are large and round 
When mother stoops and plucks the thing 

That lies there on the ground. 

Dropping from the garden gate, 

His lips begin to pout, 
He gives a stone a vicious kick 

Then throws his small chest out. 

"Oh, what's the use of dreaming 

Of witches flying high, 
When ma takes my pumpkin, 

And makes it into pie?" 



THE ARMY NURSE 

DAISY SALOME GRAVES 

All hats off to her, 
This woman who without fear 
Leaves home, friends and all 
To answer her country's call. 

No matter to what lonely spot she's sent, 
She accepts her orders without comment. 
Though 'mid shot and shell she works 
Never a task she shirks. 
With patience and with skill 
She nurses the wounded and ill. 

[200] 



She is nurse, mother, and sister to the Boys 

She shares with them their sorrows and joys. 

Though her heart is low 

Her face must be kept aglow; 

With a smile and a word of cheer 

She strives to comfort her patients in hours most drear. 



WHEN PEOPLE SAY 

VICTORIA L. GRAVES 

When people say I look real nice 

I feel so good because I know 
That they are really praising you, 

Since you are my best friend and beau, 
And when I dress I dress for you 

And hope that you will be well pleased. 
I do not mind if jokes are made 

Or if Fm continually teased. 
f When people say I look real nice 

. A sparkle makes me gay, 
Because I know that you are proud 

When such things some people say. 



DREAMS 

VERENA C. GRAY 

I wonder when you are asleep 
All cosy in your beds, 
What little dreams go dancing 
Through your pretty, sleepy heads. 

Now when as tiny babies 

You smiled as you slept, 

You were "playing with the angels" 

As they their vigil kept. 

[201] 



Dear little son, are you dreaming 
Of your blocks or soldiers bold, 
Of your gun or ball or arrow, 
Of a story you've been told? 

And "Sister", now that you Ye fifteen. 
Too old for little toys, 
Do you dream of high school partie5. 
Of happy girls and boys? 

Go on dreaming, my sweet children, 
Just of pleasant, happy things, 
And your hearts will be much lighter 
Filled with happy childhood dreams. 



A TEACHER'S LAMENT 

LULA LEE GREENE 

I can not do the things I like 
For I teach school. 

Can't put on shorts and ride a bike 
As I teach school. 

When things go wrong, I dare not swear. 
Nor do I often tear my hair 
When I teach school. 

The children think I am a saint. 
Don't I teach school? 

They try to make me what I ain't 
Since I teach school. 

[202] 



No bar-hound offers me a drink 
Goodness! what would the parents think? 
I teach their school! 

I would like to be myself 
Though I teach school. 

Must I be put upon the shelf 
If I teach school? 

No knight comes riding to my aid. 
Who wants a plain neurotic maid? 
So I teach school. 



CONFLICT 

MAUD GREENWOOD 

It is a truth that deep within 

Can be hidden the throbs of joy. 

The pangs and thorns no longer therein 

Are trampled and tossed ahoy 

As the flotsam and jetsam of the sad lost ship 

Of the foe no longer to be. 

For never and never to part from the lip 

Aught but rapture and glee. 

This strain to ope the sinking hatch 

And free the profound light 

Is really a task of due match 

In this world of storm and blight. 

Downed once with failure is only to rise 

With greater hopes of venture to surmise. 



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WHY LOVE? 

RITA GREY 

Love is such a funny thing. 
It breaks a heart or gives a ring; 
Sometimes it is returned with care; 
Sometimes it isn't even there; 
You find it in the oddest places 
And always on the strangest faces; 
It never acts just the same; 
I wonder at its name. 

Love acts in the queerest way. 
Sometimes it only lasts a day; 
Again it may a lifetime last; 
Some see it as it goes past; 
Some find it not at all; 
Others somehow always fall; 
Why doesn't it stay the same? 
It only has one name. 

A dosen meanings for one word; 
The oddest thing I ever heard. 
Feelings, thrills, hugs, kisses, 
Comely lads, and dainty misses; 
Each has a different thought 
And yet only love is sought. 
Why can't it behave the same 
When it only has one name? 



NIGHT BEAUTY 

IMOGENS GRIFFIN 



Lovely flowers dream 
Where south breezes gay 
Garden ferns caress 
By the placid bay. 

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So the stars above 
Gleam on each red rose 
To add charm it seems 
To this garden close. 

Lovely flowers dream 
While south breezes blow 
Where mid swaying ferns 
Moonbeams glide just so; 

While shadows gay 
Gambol here and there, 
Music soft but sweet 
Sounds clear on the air. 



HE RESTORETH MY SOUL 

ENID S. GRIFFITH 

Thank God for quiet places, breathing cool 
Refreshing winds upon our fevered brains 

Distraught by life and all its daily strains 
Places apart: as by a sheltered pool; 
Or little nooks where rivers gently flow 

And sunlight weaves with shadows on a loom; 
Or tranquil spots where tiny flowers bloom 

Unhurt by feet which tramp and gales that blow, 
Or where the blue, clear mirrored in a lake, 

Beholds the sky, whose image it would bear; 
Or just the silent room and couch for prayer 

Where deep realities become awake 
Thank God for quiet places far removed, 

Whose strength the toiling ones of earth have proved! 



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FACE EAST 

DOROTHY R. GRIGG 

Face east, my soul! 

The night and yesterday are fled 

Down corridors of time to be forgot. 

Behold the light! 

The day is here untried, unspoiled; 

Effulgent glory of new things to be, 

Undreamed, or only faintly dreamed before; 

Given to thee like a new birth 

To make by thine own will God'worthy. 



SUNDAY FISHING 

E. J. GRIGSBY 

Sometimes I fish on Sunday in some stream 
And angle for the crappie and the bass; 
I may lie down for one whole hour and dream 
On nature's velvet carpet of green grass. 

Above, the clouds with everchanging shape 
Would chase each other through the cool blue sky 
Reminding me of soft and silky crepe 
Hung on God's silken clothesline thread to dry. 

The sighs and sobs of vagrant breeze, 

The murmuring brook, sweet Nature's lullaby, 

Had soothed frayed nerves and set my mind at ease; 

I slept 'neath shadow blankets of the sky. 

When I can spend an hour alone with God 
In some secluded spot where angels hide, 
Forgetting all aEout my reel and rod, 
I'm happy and my soul is satisfied. 

When I return at eve with well filled creel 
My conscience with the world has no discord, 
Instead of feeling that Fve sinned I feel 
That I have had a visit with my Lord. 

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