Class Book _ . ,_ COPYRrCHT DEPOSIT. My Lady Muse and OTHER POEMS by JOHN D. NUSSBAUM of the New York Bar Copyright 1912 PRESS OF J. SALDINGER New York Ts 3Say Uf/18 *£CI,A300700 1^ DEAR READER T is with fear and trembling that I enter the gates of publicity. I fear the storm of criticism that will break over my head for having dared to court the muses in a language not my own, except by adoption, at a late period of life. For has not Macaulay said in his sketch of Frederick The Great : "No noble work of imagination, as far as we recollect, was ever com- posed by any man except in a dialect which he had learned without remembering how or when, and which he had spoken with perfect ease before he had analyzed its structure." If this be true, I am appre- hensive that it may prove my undoing as a poet in the language of Shakespere. But if, peradventure, my verses should happen to please, I shall be happy indeed ! THE AUTHOR. Ill CONTENTS Shulamith 7 My Lady Muse 8 My Love's a Golden Dream 9 Love Eternal .... 10 My "East-Side" Belle . 12 I'm Asleep, But My Heart's Awake 13 Nashotah .... 14 To-Day 17 Little Children (I) 18 Little Children (II) 19 Little Dears .... 20 Our Little Ones 22 Nathan Strauss 23 Old Trinity .... 24 The World, The Flesh and the Devil . 26 The Way of The Philanthropist is Hard 28 Woman .... 30 There's a Reason 32 The Pitiless Sea— and the Merciful Earth 33 The Passing Cloud 34 Striving . . . 35 The Ship of Life 36 IV CONTENTS To Nimrods . . . . 37 Unbidden Guests 38 Nil Desparandum 39 My Country , . . , 40 In Exitu Israel De Russiu 42 The Ninth of Ab 44 Remember 45 Zion's Plight 46 The Wandering Jew 48 Abraham and Abraham 51 The Poor Also Give Thanks . 52 The Christmas Tip . 53 Faith of My Fathers . 54 The Tongue . 5G Pastor Vs. Castor . 58 If 01 Not Yet . G2 A Moral . G4 Where Do I Come In 66 Joseph Marcus . . 69 Lex and Medicus TO There's Something in th le Air . 72 (In memory of my beloved little girl Shulamith, who departed her life in October, 1904. age three years and a half.) Peace **, thy name , O Shulamith, did spell; Child of perfect beauty, tcK>, it meant: What, remembrance now is left to tell. Remind of thee, my pure, my innocent. Sweet, little-darling Shulamith? Peace ! And may the peace by name we know Find the way into the wounded breast! Lo! In heaven a new star's aglow! 'Tis my little bird that flew to nest 'Mong stars of peace— my Shulamith! (Shulamith in Biblical Hebrew means Peace, also Perfection) J Heaps of abuse Have fallen on me, My Lady Muse For the love of thee ! Even my spouse , Sweet Emily , Has fled my house Because of thee! I'm left alone. To sing my ditty; The friends, I've known Eye me with pity! '*I must be crazy", All of them say, *'Or else, a lazy. Good-for-nothing Jay" ! All this I stand And much more abuse ; Uphold my hand! Sweet Lady Muse ! MY LOVE'S A. GOLDEN DREAM In Fancy-land my Love As queen doth reign supreme: The image of all fancies, She, My Love's a golden dream! Would that my dream could last More than awhile! But no; A rude awak'ning all-too-soon Extinguishes bright vision's glow ! REFRAIN : O Love, my golden dream. Thou art sun's fairest beam ! Without thee. Love, we seem A shadow — but a dream! When the autumn - leaves are f alhng — Leaves of yellow, golden hue And deserted fields of plenty Yield but drops of morning-dew; When the gentle summer-breezes Are but wafts of yesterday. And the north-west winds, the chilly, Usher in long winter's stay; When the earth with frost is bitten, And the world is wrapped in snow Somewhere warm the sun is shining. In my heart, where Love I know! 10 II When the autumn -leaves are falHng Off the fruitful tree-of-life; And, stripped of his strength, his power, Helpless man gives up the strife; When the dreams of youth no longer Follow in the wake of morn. And at eventide the darkness Thicker grows, hope seems forlorn; When with palsy limbs are shaking, And the voice h?.s lost its ring When the end comes. Love still whispers *Tear not death, new life I bring!' 11 I often meet A maiden sweet, When to and fro The "East" I go. Her name is not PauHne, Charlotte, But Rachel (Lamb), ^• Whose garment's hem. To touch, I deem A blissful dream ! You see, perchance A bashful glance A simple air A beautiful pair Of lovely eyes. In whose depth lies A charmer's spell My **East-Side" Belle! i^The meaning of Rachel, in Hebrew, is Lamb 12 I'M ASLEEP, BUT MY HEART'S AWAKE. When my weary eyes are seeking Sleep's refreshing couch at night. Then their closing lids in slumber Find disclosed new realms of light! As I to the brink am borne. Brink of life's forgetfulness! And, bereft of all my senses, Left I am in helplessness; As I sink into oblivion Up creep shadows from the deep; Phantoms rise into existence, Worlds— but I am fast asleep! Fast asleep, yea, but a wakeful Heart beats in my troubled breast; Though unconscious, yet the bosom Never knows a moment's rest! At all stages, waking, sleeping, Life in one long dream is bound; It's interpretation no rnan Knows A mystery profound! 13 A wee. little country -lass I know And cherish with Love's ardent glow ! In vain I seek near her to be, She hides in blushing modesty! Far away, in the golden West, Where Indian -summers smile their best. And gleam with light the silvery lakes There merrily sings, while my heartaches. In happy ignorance of me, Nashotah! Her sweet melody! 14 II Alas! Too far from thy retreat. Dear heart, have strayed my restless feet; Yet from afar my eyes behold Thee often, as in dreams of old. Arrayed in dazzling, snow-white fleece. And wrapped in air of sylvan peace ! Far away in the golden West, Where builds the bird its coziest nest. Nestles prettily, in her bower of green, Nashotah! My most beautiful queen! 15 Ill A score of fleeting years has spread Its swiftest wings and past me fled To spheres of everlasting Hght; Whilst I, in my attempted flight To lofty heights, am left behind, With poverty and fate unkind. Unceasingly, to wrestle and contend- What makes me fight unto the end And look for final victory? Nashotah! Thy dear memory! 16 V Let poets praise the good old days. The ages past, the ancient lore ! Let dreamers dream of far-off gleam, Of lights that shone in days of yore; As for me, all I can see Is, "To-day" — Nothing but To-day! Let seers see a!l that shall be In the far iuture, good and weU ! Let sages wise the fall and rise Of coming storms and tides foretell; A.S for me all I would see Is, "To-day" — Nothing but To-day! f et others trust in chance and gust. On "To-mcrrow" stake their hopes ! The foolish may employ their day Vainly mending broken ropes; As for me, all I shall see Is, "To-day," nothing but To-day!" 17 **Little children!** darlings sweet. Let me worship at your feet! For in you Love's holy fruit I behold, revere, salute! "Little children! '* darlings sweet, Your favor, I, your love entreat! For though you be but children small. To me, you are — the world and all ! **Little children! ** where*er your home, In lowly or in lofty dome; Of whatever race or call, I adore you, one and all ! 18 -^ II ^~-- **Little children !" WorlHs-^joy! 'Round a little baby-boy, 'Round a tiny mite-of-a- girl In one rapturous inotion whirl ! "Little children/' O the joy! To behold a little boy; Or a doll-of-a-girl neat Is there anything more sweet? Little children everywhere: Some are dark, and some are fair; Some are cute and some are queer. Everyone, a '*LittIe-dear" ! 19 I love you for your eyes of blue; Little dears, do love me too! For your brown or black orbs-bright. Twinkling like the stars of night 1 II For your sweet-faced innocence. Beaming with intelligence; For your spirits, light and gay. Brimful with the mirth of play! Ill For your pretty, childish ways, Whims and fancies, games and plays ; For your laughter, loud and clear, Ringing with delight, good cheer! 20 IV For your showers of sudden tears. Fraught with foohsh frets and fears For your quick forgetfuInes= Of all ills what blessedness! * * * Little children," one is calhng, "Unto me come.'* leaves are falling And my tears in torrents shower Upon an early, faded flower! 21 As I look into your eyes, Little ones, a paradise Looms up, blossoms into sight, Full of infinite delight! And a longing at the core Of my heart sighs: **Evermore! Evermore, O heavens mild I Let me be a Httle child!'* Then I would to Fairy-land Hie me, run upon the sand Of its shores in childish glee, Happy — as only child can be ! Little children, full of fun As of light the God-blest sun! Tedious hours your mirth beguiles What vs^ere life without your smiles? 22 In this blessed land of ours. Where as nothing kings are counted. Merit only wears a crown; Where all men are born equal. Equal stand 'fore God and men; Lives a citizen most honored, Blessed, revered, beloved by all! He is not a man of learning, Altogether too profound, But a simple man, a lover Of the "Little Innocents'*. NATHAN STRAUSS, of him I sing He, the man who saves the babies From disease, from early death. Giving them with human kindness Milk purified and fit to drink. What reward shall he receive In the day of great rewards? Virtue's own Sweet recompense! 23 Lo! Yonder stands on crowded stage A lonely Church bedeckt with age ! Though many be that pass her place. But few do stop for word of grace Or blessing of Divinity At Church of dear, old Trinity! II The noble race she loved and blest Beneath her sod has gone to rest. Now, all alone, she strives to sow The Seed of Faith 'mong tares that grow And choke the fair vicinity Of the old Church of Trinity! Ill Her sweetly-ringing chimes I hear But faintly, though with eager ear I listen to their charming play! For rumbling noises, all the day And all the night impair and pall Old Trinity's enchanting call! 24 IV Her steeple, once a lofty spire. Reminding of things better, higher^ A dwarf it seems, now, small in size. Compared with giant walls that rise Above it in colossal height. Obscuring dear, old Trinity's light! Her darkness deepens into night. Old Trinity's nowhere in sight! For cursed Mammon's avarice Has claimed another sacrifice! ^'Another New- York landmark gone," Historians quote, the world gees on ! — THE WORLD, THE FLESH AND THE DEVIL Through night's long and weary hours. Vigil keeping 'gainst temptation. Sits the lonely cloistered novice In profoundest contemplation. II Round about him perfect stillness. Not a stirring sound intrudes; His imagination peoples Emptiness with multitudes! Ill And he sees the busy world With its noisy, merry-making Crowds his solitude invading, His lone cell in adverse=taking! 26 THE WORLD, THE FLESH AND THE DEVIL IV *'Holy Mother," cries the recluse, *Micl the battle's noise and din, "Whither shall I flee for refuge "From a world steeped in sin?'* V "Nowhere, child," the Mother Gently makes reply; "thy level Best, thy utmost, in the world Do, and thou shalt shame the devil! 27 THE WAY OF THE PHILANTHROPIST IS HARD {Andrew Carnegie) When on his throne King David sat In dear, old -dear Jerusalem, And to him came as supplicant A shivering, naked, shorn lamb. Or widow crying for relief Then woe betide that sneaking thief ! For justice swift he would receive And punishment without delay. ** Tis philanthropy,*' the king would state, "That hard be made transgressor's way!'* 3d -i)^^.,,,,^ THE WAY W^^\ OF THE PHILANTHROPIST IS HARD II But when in "New-Jerusalem** Of millions two a man was robbbed, And he, a worthy philanthrop. Silence kept, while ''Bankers'* sobbed And cried and stormed for lucre more. Or else — - there would be spilled some gore! That man was called yet to explain Afore the People's Sovereignty How dared he **No** to say? — Said he: "Too hard*s the way of philanthropy!*' 39 WOMAN (Ancient) There's a dear, angelic creature. Lovely , and of comely feature ; Fascinating , sweet, delicious. Yet withal — a thing capricious ! Feminine it is of gender, And of heart most kind and tender; More divine indeed than human. Wooed by man, by him named Woman ! (Modern) There's the woman-suffragette. The one I love, my sweet Babette! She's anxious to be "mannish," Yet "tight-lacing" she won't banish! Prettily upon her tip-toes Trips she, blushing like the primrose. In a manner super-human. How she does it — knows but woman I 30 (Of All Ages) Many a thing there's yet to learn By the male-brute to discern In the eternal feminine ! Woman's the world's heroine. The fragrance of its atmosphere ! If she err, man, drop a tear! And press her closer to thy heart! Woman's mankind's better parti 31 Because it is a fact. Of which we all are aware, TTiat *'hat-less'* woman is A thing of beauty rare; Such as to tempt a Saint , His worship to address More to lady-fair. Than to beauty-of- holiness; Wherefore, Apostle Paul On this one thing stood pat That lovely woman must Wear in the Church a hat! In order that she be A screened divinity; And eyes profane elsewhere May seek an affinity! THE PITILESS SEA-AND THE MERCIFUL EARTH To quench the flame Of burning shame. That threatened to Destroy, undo Her honor — ^bare Her soul's despair; In ocean's wave She sought her grave! Thought she, from shame She'd saved her name: (Would not the deep Her secret keep? ) O'er moaning breeze The raging seas In anger shout : **Hence! Cast her out!'* To Mother-Earth, Who gave her birth. Behold! Her clay Is brought to-day! With loving arms Maid's faded charms Tenderly she folds. And never scolds! 33 THE PASSING CLOUD As to the shades recede TTie shadows of the night, Grey dawn the day begets, And darkness turns to hght! His smiling beams the sun In morning glory sheds; The face of all the earth With radiance o*erspreads! And if with skies o'ercast Sometimes the day appears; All veiled in misty haze, And wet, and raining tears — - Then comes the wind and clapj His healing wings aloud ; And lo ! 'Tis fair again ; *Twas but a passing cloud ! 34 STRIVING On the surging high sea saiHng, See, the Httle craft, so frail! Bidding wind and wave defiance, Fearing neither storm nor gale! Though the billows into mountains Rise and bar the passage clear; O'er their tops it ghdes securely To the harbor's bosom near! On the surging seas of passion Lo, the toiling Ship-of-life ! If she ever reach the haven Will it be worth labor's strife? Hark! Tlie people's voices shouting: *'Glory to the daring man!" Leave all doubts then, man, behind thee! Venture! Life is but a span! Published in the N.Y. Evening Journal, Aug. 13, 1910 35 Upon the vast, great ocean A tiny craft set sail ; Set wind, waves in commotion. That little boat, so frail ! Set sail — in lowly fashion And Wisdom's hidden art — On turbulent seas of passion A ship — Tlie human heart! 36 He who hunting goes must learn, Not only straight to shoot ; But also, to distinguish Betwixt man and brute! 37 And now that one by one. My comrades all are gone; Since my last bugle's call On lonely ears must fall; As I in silence moan Behold, Fm not alone! For lo ! Upon the stage The ailments of old-age! Rude guests they are; unbidden The presence of bed-ridden Invalids they invade; Departing, when death's debt's paid! 38 It does not pay to worry. To fret and to be sorry The whole day long — 'Cause things go wrong! It is the height of folly, I say, not to be jolly When all-too-loud Shouts the merry crowd! It costs nothing to be happy, I tell you, my good chappie. You too, grief-laden. Foolish maiden, Why sighing all the while? Be ready with your smile, And th« world, too, Will laugli with you! 39 (Tune: My Country 'Tis Of Thee.) My Country! O that Thee, Land of the brave, the free. My own I call ! Land of a world new, Fresh as the morning-dew. Where hope's fair dreams come true, Thou art my all! II I love Thy cities fair, Set up high in the glare Of wealth untold ! I love Thy industries. Thy busy factories. Thy cherished memories* More than Thy gold! □ L DDE dde:= 3F===1B 40 ElF=^l MY COUNTRY iL=^'^ III Land of sweet unity, Where opportunity Find ricii and poor! Where equal rights attain All who the peace maintain; Safe in dear Freedom's reign, Rest we secure! IV My Country! O that I Beneath Thy happy sky Live, labor, toil ! And, when I mount the crest Of life's wave, let me rest Mong Pilgrim-Fathers blest, In Thy free soil ! -f-M-i £}r==lL£===1E 41 IN EXITU ISRAEL DE RUSSIU ) From Odessee, In Czar's domain, Where lay the slain By Cossack's spear My kinsmen dear In pools of blood That unto God Ran "Vengeance!" crying; From 'mong the dying, Myself, half-dead, I rose and fled America, to Thee! II And as upon The golden sand Of Thy fair land I set my feet ; As its sweet And balmy air I breathed — all care I threw away! For in that day My heart was glad! I felt, I had My freedom won I 42 Ill Dear Liberty! My promised land! I lift my hand To Thee and swear : Henceforth to share Thy destiny! If in the m?.in, Though Jew, I gain Love and esteem As 77ian! I deem My lot the best 'Mong mankind blest! 43 (Anniversary of the destruction of Jerusalem) Again the old-time grief And pain my heart o'ertakel Again I seek rehef From galhng, racking ache. My heart, it grieves to see Jerusalem not free! The wrathful day has come, ITie Ninth of Ab is here; Its terrors strike me dumb! I cannot speak; I hear The stones cry out, relate: ** Jerusalem is desolate!*' Be hopeful though my soul ! Keep up the burning flame Of cherished love. Console Jerusalem! Her name And fame yet shall be great ; Not yet ; but none too late ! Published in Hebrew Standand, 1911 44 REMEMBER God our head, Remember our dead! The dead who fell In Israel, Not alone in war, Defending, dying for Their country dear; Also those who near Their hearth were grabbed By fiends and stabbed To death, because — O let me pause— It is no news—- — Because they were Jews! Published in Hebrew Standard, 1911 45 When I think of Thee, O ZIon! Glory of the Holy Land! Recollecting Thee as City Chartered by Jehovah's Hand; Thy gates of pearls, Thy walls of gold. By sage and prophet long foretold! I do wonder, I know not how Camest Thou to fall so low? II When I think of Thee, O Zion! Of Thy renown, of Thy great fame! When the word my lips do whisper. Mentioning Thy holy name! Name pronounced by many a tongi.:e In reverence, in holy song! Blessed Zion, recalling Thee, Why in tears Thy face I see? 46 Ill **What if strangers do me honor/* Sadly Zion answers me, "What if gentiles " Allelujah ! " ''Amen!" shout with fervent glee; What if all the nations hail Me as queen of a Fairy-tale? . If the children, I've begotten. Me, their mother, have forgotten!'* IV *'Can a mother forget her own, Her bosom child, her only one ? Will other children satisfy I ler craving for the child that's gone? Will ever multitudes replace The image of the loved one's face? Never, never shall Zion rest, Until her ovvti are in her nest! (Tune: Home, Sweet Home) O Patriarch of ancient clays, Abraham of old! father of a people rich In blessings manifold! Formost that blest inheritance Of the Holy Land! Forever promised to be theirs, Now, no more in their hand! n 1 pray Thee, Father, tell me where, O where in God's whole earth? lliis people. Thine, a home did find. A hospitable hearth? Knowst Thou the land, that happy land. That ever-blessed clime. Where Israel found a resting place For any length of time? 43 Ill As thus I mused, a thousand thoughts Invaded my mind*s train; They tortured me with questions hard Again, and o*er again! When all at once before me stood That venerable sage. Whom I invoked, and to me said The man bowed down with age : IV *'I, too, have left a Father's house, I, your Abraham! Have left the scenes of childhood's dreams. The fairest tents of Shem! Have parted, at the bidding of A divine command , From my home, my country dear. My own, dear-native land!" 49 "The land ye seek is still far-off. The rest not yet in sight! There's many a long, long road to tramp, Weary a day and night! Nevertheless with patience great Go wander in God*s name! 'Tis your lot, your destiny To spread His faith and fame I VI And when ye shall have thus fulfilled* This, your mission true; When all the world afar and wide Shall give all honor due To God, the One and Only God, Then your song shall be, The dear-old song **At Home Again T' Jerusalem the free!'* 50 ( In commemoration of the Lincoln Penny) In the dim and distant shadows Of primeval centuries *Way back in the golden era. Days of ancient memories Trod with certain steps a wand'rer — Abraham we call by name To the far-off land of promise. Even unto world wide fame! Abraham of recent memory, Lincoln man of yesterday! Simple woodsman, poor, untutored- Angel, demi-god to-day! Thee we worship as the Father Of a new and free-born race; On the millions of our pennies Cherish we thy bronzed face! (Another version of the last two lines) On sweet Labor's hard-earned pennies Benignly smiles thy bronzed face! Published in the N. Y. Evening Journal, Apr. 21, 1911 51 THE POOR ALSO GIVE THANKS Again we give Thee heartfelt thanks, Dear Lord! Naught else in gratitude can we afford To offer up to-day. We have not much Of anything to make show of, excepting such As fortitude, privation to endure! We thank Thee Lord, for that we still are poor! If w^e v/ere rich, perhaps, we ne*er had thought Of giving thanks! Perchance we would have sought The path of pleasure and the pace that kills. But we are still alive, and gladness fills Our hearts. In poverty we rest secure! We thank Tliee Lord, for that we still are poor ! Published in the New York Times, Thanksgiving- day, 1910. 53 "To give, or not to give," The question, as I live. Is utterly absurd! Indeed, who ever heard A soul express a doubt At Christmas time about The blessedness of giving? Whoever Cost-of-Living Figures — dollars, dimes. When ring the Christmas chimes? I The question, if at all , Is , how to make too small A gift look big! Know then: It with "Good will to !iien" And peace the heart overflows, The gift the bigger grows! Now, why ask questions queer? Fill up the cup*s good cheer! Unloose the tightened grip! And grant the ChristHias-Tipl Published in the Call, 1910. Z3 I too, a Jew, do count my beads; I too, believe in a Trinity! Hear my Faith's confession, 'tis: "Repentance, Prayer, Charity!*' II Repentance pure and simple, such As bringeth forth the noble deed, And not alone vainglorious words : That's the JewishCreed ! illl And as to fervent prayers And chants of melody. Do tell me who can rival King David's Psalmody? 54 r' ^^\ FAITH OF MY FATHERS )] IV *'Above all Charity'* (That like a gentle river Floweth from the heart) Who more, than Jew, a Giver? Wherefore, of Thee I boast, Faith of my illustrious nation! For thou containest all Things needful to Salvation? Published in Hebrew Standard. 1911 Said Rabbi Simon to his son : "Naphtali, my lusty lad. To market-place do quickly run And buy the "best** that can be had Of things to eat. I say, the "best**. Put thou thy intellect to test!*' II "A hind let-loose** was Naphtali, And quick to strike the bargain-best. "Think ye, I bring a spicy tart. Or sweet-meats for our worthy guest," The youth remarked, "if so, ye*re wrong; Tve bought a well-preserved tongue!*' Ill "The tongue has neither fat nor bone. Is tender, sweet and toothsome; 'Tis the food that not alone Humans eat, but also angels gladsome!* "Well done!'* the Rabbi said; "now go. My son, and buy the "worst** you know!** ^'According to the Talmud the three men whom Abraham entertained as guests at the plain of Mamre were Angels and the food he sat before them was Calf 's-tongue.) 56 IV Again the lad went out and back He came with his bargain-gruesome ; A goodly tongue he showed, just Hke The one he bought as wholesome; **How*s that, my boy, his father said, Can one thing be both good and bad?" V '*Yes, Father, '^said young NaphtaH: **In Holy Writ, in Book of Scriptures. Much wisdom and delight I've found And many Proverb-pictures." Thus saith the Word of inspired song: *'Bcth life and death is in the tongue.'* 57 PASTOR VS. CASTOR o^^^mL A sea-faring man» a sailor And a sport was Dives Castor; Owned a fashionable tailor And of real cloth a Pastor; Servants also, asses, monkeys. Lions had he, men of grain; A whole regiment of flunkies. Marching, followed in his train! II And the rich ones, the four hundred, Of whate'er variety. The aristocrats, stiff-laundried Bosoms of Society, Swelled with pride as from afar. From the distant far-away, They beheld their guiding star— — Castor coming down the Bay! 5S Ill With the news of a new conquest Of a maiden sweet and fair; Won of Force by him, the much-blest, Richest, muhi-milhonaire; (Who, though worshipper of money And of: frigid, cold-hard cash, ) Also loved much matrimony With a fiery,, ybuthful dash! Joyously the news the Smart-Set Hailed, received with great delight I How they doted on their dear pet. The old-boy. the Errant-Knight! How Society did flutter O'er the nuptials' near event; Exclamations loud did utter For the ears of Castor meant! 59 PASTOR VS. CASTOR <^.=^^(^ What has happened to the Old-Boy? What gloom shrouded the Elite? Who so rudely spoiled their heart's Joy Of anticipation sweet? *Twas the preacher's saying: **TTiough King, Lord he be of land and sea; Never shall the Church's bells ring When again weds Divorcee T' (Subsequent events proved that the poet was mistaken,) 60 If I only had a nickel With my fortune of good health I If, of all the much and mickle, Of this world's piled up wealth, Half-a-dime came to my share — I should smile at dismal care! If that precious coin came roHmg From the distant far away ; Hitting me, would I be howling With delight or with dismay? Yes, Td grab it with much pleasure, Clinging to my nickel-treasure! Would I keep it on caressing, Tliis my single Five-cent-piece? Will it prove a curse or ble?sing, Will it bring me war or peace? How should I know its true meaning? Ne*er I see it, except when dreaming!