Class 
 Book. 
 
 CpEyiiglitW 
 
 iqrf 
 
 COPXRIGHT DEPOSm 
 
f'/ 
 
TO ARMS 
 
 BY 
 
 EDWARD ROBESON 
 TAYLOR 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 PAUL ELDER & COMPANY 
 
 MCMXVII 
 
COPYRIGHT, I 9 I 7, BY EDWARD ROBESON TAYLOR 
 
 PRINTED BY TAYLOR & TAYLOR, SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 ©GI.A47;i'5:33 
 
 SEP -5 1917 
 
DEDICATED 
 
 WITH 
 
 REVERENCE AND DEVOTION 
 
 TO THE MEMORY 
 
 OF 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 To Washington 
 
 Balfour, Joffre and Viviani at the Tomb 
 Washington, April 30, 191 7 . 
 
 Lloyd George 
 
 Kitchener . 
 
 Lord Roberts 
 
 France La Belle France 
 
 Neutrality 
 
 Waiting 
 
 The Lusitania, i, ii 
 
 On Reading the Reply of the Entente 
 TO President Wilson's Note . 
 
 To Arms 
 
 A Hymn 
 
 America and France 
 
 At Liege 
 
 To Rheims Cathedral 
 
 The Silence of Louvain 
 
 Belgium, i, ii, hi, iv 
 
 Page 
 
 2 
 3 
 4 
 5 
 6 
 10 
 
 13 
 
 1 4 and I 5 
 
 Allies 
 
 16 
 
 17 
 20 
 22 
 
 23 
 24 
 
 25 
 26 to 29 
 
Serbia 
 
 • 
 
 • 
 
 
 Page 30 
 
 France, i, ii, hi, iv, v, vi, vii, viii, ix, x 
 
 3 I to 40 
 
 Verdun ..... 
 
 . 41 
 
 The Flags of Verdun . 
 
 . 
 
 . 
 
 
 42 
 
 Joan of Arc 
 
 . 
 
 . 
 
 
 . 43 
 
 Edith Cavell 
 
 
 
 
 • 4+ 
 
 The Enemy^ i, ii . 
 
 . 
 
 . 
 
 
 45 and 46 
 
 The Anarchist 
 
 
 
 
 . 47 
 
 The Bomb . 
 
 . 
 
 . 
 
 
 . 48 
 
 War's Time 
 
 
 
 
 . 49 
 
 Consummation 
 
 
 
 
 50 
 
 To Italy . 
 
 
 
 
 . 51 
 
 Russia 
 
 
 
 
 . 52 
 
 Funston 
 
 
 
 
 • 53 
 
 France to America 
 
 
 
 
 . . 56 
 
 ViCTURI SaLUTAMUS 
 
 
 
 . 
 
 . 61 
 
 The Red Cross . 
 
 
 
 
 . 62 
 
 The Call . 
 
 
 
 . . 63 
 
 The Flag . 
 
 
 
 
 . . 64 
 
TO ARMS 
 
TO WASHINGTON 
 
 MPERiAL WASHINGTON, we fain would prutse 
 T'hy constellated deeds in words of fir e^ 
 Until on wings as strong as our desire^ 
 They sweep the empyrean s golden ways. 
 DetraSiion burns to ashes in the rays 
 Of thy great fame that mocks the poet's lyre^ 
 While as the years recede from thee still higher 
 We see thy name magnificently blaze. 
 
 Like some vast monument whose radiant head 
 Aspires to the clouds^ while round are spread^ 
 As far as eye can reach^ the untempled plain^ 
 In eminence of isolation thoUj 
 With none to share in thy eternal reign^ 
 Thy country's seal forever on thy brow. 
 
BALFOUR, JOFFRE AND VIVIANI 
 
 AT THE TOMB OF WASHINGTON, APRIL 30, I917 
 
 Along the road that each recurring year 
 Sees thousands toiling to our country's shrine, 
 The startled eye beholds in stately line 
 These great of Britain and of France appear. 
 And as they draw in solemn hush anear 
 They voice their worshiping in words divine, 
 And to the sacred stone their wreaths resign. 
 While all Mount Vernon thrills to see and hear. 
 
 Then Washington in holy radiance seemed 
 
 A spirit form, the same as they had dreamed 
 
 When he was marching to eternal fame ; 
 
 And from the silence deeply hallowed rise 
 
 The gladsome blessings of his great acclaim. 
 
 That leap with rapture through the wondering skies. 
 
LLOYD GEORGE 
 
 O thou of fluent speech and shining deeds, 
 
 Of Wales the son who stars it as her best, 
 
 In this momentous time thou hast the crest 
 
 Attained where mastery in glory breeds. 
 
 In every outcry of thine empire's needs 
 
 Thou hast made strong thine arm and bared thy breast. 
 
 Nor let thy ceaseless vigil dare to rest 
 
 Mid turmoil's thunder or applause's meeds. 
 
 Thou hast in thee the prophet's heart of old 
 Who dost in words of flame sublimely bold 
 Forecast the dangers to thy country's weal ; 
 And boldest so thy brother to thy heart 
 That in thy being's depths thou canst but feel 
 No safety lies where he plays not his part. 
 
KITCHENER 
 
 As silent as the mountain soaring high, 
 As strong as any adamantine tower, 
 Kitchener stood out the symbol of a power 
 That blazoned in the world's admiring eye. 
 His country on his arm could but rely 
 In these portentous times that round her lower. 
 Till led by him the monumental hour 
 Should strike for Victory to light her sky. 
 
 O irony, that this great soul should be, 
 
 By such a sneaking devil of the sea. 
 
 Made to bow down its ever-conquering crest. 
 
 Or that old England's ocean be the one 
 
 To tear him rudely from her mothering breast 
 
 And quench forevermore that radiant sun. 
 
LORD ROBERTS 
 
 DIED NOVEMBER I4, I914 ^AGED 82 
 
 England was one with his o'ermastering soul ; 
 
 He knew no service save to her alone, 
 
 Nor breathed a thought that was not hers to own, 
 
 As on he passed from goal to shining goal. 
 
 His life was lit with fire of battle's toll 
 
 Mid countless perils and in many a zone, 
 
 Till eagle-winged he reached the dazzling throne 
 
 Before whose feet the waves of glory roll. 
 
 And when war's thunderbolts raged round the world, 
 And at his country's heart their fury hurled. 
 While every moment held its anxious breath. 
 Eager as youth he dared the battle's flame. 
 And with the laurel of triumphant death 
 Passed to an immortality of fame. 
 
FRANCE LA BELLE FRANCE 
 
 We need not tell thy sons to rise, 
 They have arisen in their might, 
 To see before their brightening eyes 
 The glorious triumph of the right. 
 Oh, gird their loins as ne'er before 
 Amid the battle's dreadful roar, 
 France, la belle France. 
 
 O country from whose breast have grown 
 
 The blooms whose breath is consecrate. 
 
 And where all things that man has known 
 
 Lie in thy lap supremely great, 
 
 To spring if need be on the foe 
 
 That fain would work thee horrent woe, 
 
 France, la belle France. 
 
Thy waving banner stirs the blood, 
 And lifts us to our soul's desire. 
 For on our hearts there pours a flood 
 Of memories wakening every ire, 
 And in that flood we dare to see 
 Thy heaven-appointed victory, 
 France, la belle France. 
 
 Alsace, Lorraine, thy children dear. 
 That from thy side were ruthless torn, 
 Will be restored thee, never fear. 
 As bright as when they saw thy morn, 
 And in thy arms with deep caress 
 Will fall with blissful thankfulness, 
 France, la belle France. 
 
Then strike as never once before 
 For France all rounded and complete, 
 No matter what the awful gore 
 That flows in rivers at thy feet ; 
 If thou to this thy soul assign 
 Unclouded glories shall be thine, 
 France, la belle France. 
 
 Through all the centuries blood has flowed 
 In torrents from thy plenteous veins. 
 Yet ever onward has thy road 
 Pursued its way to noble gains, 
 Till thou dost stand upon a height 
 Ensphered in glory's radiant might, 
 France, la belle France. 
 
 8 
 
O country of thy children's love, 
 O country that the world admires, 
 May all the powers that rule above 
 Grant thee the top of thy desires; 
 O country blest by every art, 
 O country of the unconquered heart, 
 France, la belle France. 
 
 Recited by Mme. Francis Car o Ian at the Fair- 
 mont Hotel, San Francisco, on the eleventh of 
 December, 1915, and published in "L'Echo de 
 I'Ouest" accompanied by a translation into French 
 by M. Leon Tristan. 
 
NEUTRALITY 
 
 Neutral? What is it to be neutral? 'Tis 
 
 To wear a mask as though it were indeed 
 
 The very color of your inmost soul ; 
 
 It is to raise hypocrisy's foul self 
 
 Up to the radiant heights where Virtue sways 
 
 Her sceptre over uncorrupted hearts ; 
 
 It is to feel emotion's billows rise 
 
 Until desire shall prompt them to overwhelm 
 
 The farthest shores of being, yet remain 
 
 As placid as a lake that loves the sun ; 
 
 It is, when pruning-hooks are raging swords 
 
 That reap far-flaming fields of crimson grain 
 
 Where human blood, in rivers deepening flows; 
 
 Where bellowing thunder of tremendous guns 
 
 Betokens wreck of palaces and domes ; 
 
 lO 
 
 J 
 
Where cities perish in engulfing flames, 
 Their people wanderers in a lifeless waste ; 
 Where anguish pierces every air that hears 
 The orphan's cry, or sees the widow weep, 
 Or notes the moan of torn and mangled men 
 That lie beyond the touch of loving hands. 
 To be unmoved as grinning idiots are; 
 It is, when mighty empires shake the world 
 With countless legions of portentous war. 
 In struggling for a mastery deeply fraught 
 With consequences to remotest time. 
 To choke all utterance, and like slaves be dumb ; 
 It is when Liberty, to whom we owe 
 Our greatest fortunes even our very souls. 
 Without whose arm around us we would be 
 But abject thralls, with bellies to the ground. 
 Is gasping in the throes of death by him 
 
 11 
 
Who lords it over millions in command 
 
 Of mighty, merciless machines of war, 
 
 That throb with power never known before. 
 
 To seal up every avenue of speech, 
 
 And we, God's creatures, well content to be 
 
 The fraud and mockery of our dearest selves. 
 
 The veriest pinchbecks of humanity. 
 
 If one have sympathy, that priceless jewel, 
 
 Let him with all the urging of his heart 
 
 Bestow it freely, whatsoe'er may threat, 
 
 Nor let the blessed heavens themselves prevent 
 
 His rising to the level of a man. 
 
 12 
 
WAITING 
 
 Yes, we have waited till the day has sped, 
 
 And on the earth seems settling black-browed night, 
 
 Till on our hearts has grown a poisonous blight, 
 
 More deadly far than has been sung or said. 
 
 Before our eyes Britain and France have bled, 
 
 Unto their utmost, consecrated mite. 
 
 While on great Belgium's and Serbia's plight 
 
 Hell's horrors to engorgement have been fed. 
 
 Oh, that Columbia, she of Freedom's mould. 
 Should with indifference such crimes behold, 
 And e'en does meekly take the Teuton's blow! 
 Awake, ye patriots, to the Eagle's scream. 
 Nor sleep again till your world-conquering foe 
 Sees fade forever his imperial dream. 
 
 13 
 
THE LUSITANIA 
 I 
 
 A cultured tyrant sits upon a throne, 
 
 And says to men, '^You shall not sail the seas 
 
 Except within the limits that I please, 
 
 And see that there you sail, and there alone." 
 
 A great ship dared to brave his lawless zone. 
 
 When he, whom Belgium's blood could not appease, 
 
 With his war engines struck her to the knees. 
 
 And down she sank with multitudinous groan. 
 
 Murder here loomed in all its fiendish pride, 
 With Piracy loud shouting by its side, 
 As unwarned hundreds drank of sudden death. 
 Is there some lightning left in all the sky! 
 Then let it come and with its fiery breath 
 Blast these unnatural monsters low and high. 
 
 Originally published in the San Francisco ''Bulletin." 
 
 14 
 
THE LUSITANIA 
 II 
 
 [Capt. Persius, Naval Expert of the "Berliner 
 Tageblatt," says: ''Time will pass, and the opportunity 
 will be given for sober consideration of the Lusitanian 
 case. The cries of horror over American women and chil- 
 dren will die down, and I hope the views of peaceful neu- 
 tral persons will gain the upper hand.''] 
 
 Oh, nurture not the thought within your breast, 
 That Time's restoring waves will wash away 
 The Lusitania's horrors from that day 
 When ocean gasped as murder reached its crest — 
 Murder more foul than earth had yet possessed. 
 When home-bound mothers with their babes at play, 
 And sturdy men, to their appalled dismay. 
 Unwarned and helpless, died at its behest. 
 
 In truth Time has been overkind to men 
 
 In breeding of forgetfulness, but then 
 
 Some compensation stood by death's dread side; 
 
 But here is murder as unique as great. 
 
 Colossal in its infamy of pride, 
 
 That shall out-tongue the very voice of fate. 
 
 15 
 
ON READING THE REPLY OF THE 
 
 ENTENTE ALLIES TO PRESIDENT 
 
 WILSON'S NOTE 
 
 Up from the mangled earth your voices soar 
 
 To sweep in majesty along the skies, 
 
 Where throbbing hearts and soul-rejoicing eyes 
 
 Eternal Justice and her kin adore. 
 
 You stand for Europe and the heaping store 
 
 Her future holds as man's supremest prize, 
 
 And now to yield would break your heavenly ties 
 
 To bind you fast to all that you deplore. 
 
 Hell's hate has been let loose by those who know 
 The dreadful depths of war's tremendous woe. 
 And yet who call on God their shame to share. 
 The time is now this devil's rage to still, 
 Then be you firm so that no more you bear 
 The griefs and torments of this boundless ill. 
 
 16 
 
TO ARMS! 
 
 It is your country's voice that calls 
 
 In purest cause avowed, 
 And through the quickening air it falls 
 
 Like thunder from the cloud; 
 Arise! Its rousing summons heed. 
 
 Your banner streams on high, 
 Then drink the patriot wine of need, 
 
 And dare to do or die. 
 
 O War, as horrid as thou art, 
 
 And, as a devil dread. 
 We hold thee now upon our heart. 
 
 And stroke thy gory head ; 
 For thou to us alone can give 
 
 The strength we greatly need 
 In honor and in right to live. 
 
 No matter who may bleed. 
 
 17 
 
Thou art indeed a dreadful thing, 
 
 Yet not the worst of ills, 
 For to thy sanguined skirts may cling 
 
 The force of righteous wills. 
 So now along the lambent sky 
 
 Our country's torchlight flames. 
 While blent with her tremendous cry 
 
 Are her immortal names. 
 
 The eagle rouses from his sleep. 
 
 He plumes his mighty wing. 
 And o'er the land delights to sweep. 
 
 His challenge proud to fling; 
 The ocean breezes swell his breast 
 
 As he sublimely soars. 
 To bid us sail with freedom blest, 
 
 Its sounding, sovereign shores. 
 
 18 
 
He leaves his mountain crest behind, 
 
 We thrill to watch his flight, 
 For he to sunlit regions signed 
 
 Has burst the chains of night. 
 Then leave your peaceful, cloistered ways, 
 
 Step to your country's time. 
 And on your souls forever blaze 
 
 The things that are sublime. 
 
 Originally published in the San Francisco "Chronicle/' 
 
 19 
 
A HYMN 
 
 God of our fathers, keep us true ; 
 Ne'er let our thirst for newer goals 
 Tempt us to palter with our souls, 
 Or to unholy angels sue. 
 
 Oh, may we study to be just; 
 Let not the spotless, hallowed Right 
 Sink in the mire of bestial might, 
 Or conquest yield to brutal lust. 
 
 Lift us above our daily selves, 
 Where sordid nothings rankly grow. 
 To heights where heartening breezes blow, 
 And Heroism deeply delves. 
 
 With mighty majesty of word 
 Our Chief has shaken every throne. 
 Oh, grant we make that word our own. 
 And be by its deep music stirred. 
 20 
 
God of our fathers, we implore 
 In this great time thy sovereign aid ; 
 Grant that the glorious part we played 
 In other times we play once more. 
 
 Columbia stands before the world 
 In splendor garmented and fair, 
 An outspread eagle in her hair 
 And in her hand our flag unfurled. 
 
 Impassioned loftiness is hers, 
 Her limbs are eager for the fray! 
 She treads with pride the lordly way 
 Whereon she leads her ministers. 
 
 Be with her to the joyful close 
 That but awaits the wondrous time, 
 When Peace, anointed and sublime, 
 On man bestows a long repose. 
 
 Originally published in the San Francisco "Chronicle.' 
 
 21 
 
AMERICA AND FRANCE 
 
 In memory-crowded, anxious times like these 
 Now swim before the mind the arduous days 
 When youthful LaFayette in glory's blaze 
 The friends of Liberty aspired to please ; 
 When he and Rochambeau from over-seas 
 With Washington embraced the starry ways 
 That led to Yorktown and immortal praise, 
 And filled with consecration every breeze. 
 
 And now when Liberty once more cries out 
 
 Amid the dreadful din and battle shout. 
 
 The spirits of these great ones thrill the air, 
 
 To stir our souls with ichors all divine. 
 
 That kill the poisonous vapors of despair. 
 
 And round the heart hope's laurel leaves entwine. 
 
 22 
 
AT LIEGE 
 
 We stand upon a spot by glory crowned 
 With hues as bright as Fame has ever brought 
 From out the dazzling deeps, and finely wrought 
 Till blazed with those eternally renowned. 
 Here heroisms cry from out the ground 
 Beyond all measurement of speech or thought, 
 And heroes here to life's last issue fought. 
 So that their country be to honor bound. 
 
 Against her rose the legioned hosts of Might, 
 While she, serenely throned upon the Right, 
 Fell but to rise with triumph at her side ; 
 And like her forbears in the times gone by 
 She sees with just magnificence of pride 
 New radiance added to her brilliant sky. 
 
 23 
 
TO RHEIMS CATHEDRAL 
 
 The centuried years had clustered on thy head, 
 The deathless Maid had claimed thee as her own, 
 And chaste as seraph's dreams thou stood'st alone 
 To proud magnificence of glory wed. 
 Thy matchless windows heaven's pure radiance shed, 
 While at thy portal Beauty throbbed in stone ; 
 Here kings were fitly crowned ; and from thy throne 
 Peace, blessed Peace, her golden doctrine spread. 
 
 And now behold the ruin that thou art : 
 
 From out thy breast they've torn the very heart, 
 
 These vandal ones that serve in War's dread train. 
 
 O woeful wreck! eternal shalt thou be. 
 
 For all that man can brew in his vast brain 
 
 Can never part stern memory from thee. 
 
 24 
 
THE SILENCE OF LOUVAIN 
 
 Louvain in ghastly silence broods as though 
 Sound nevermore would play upon her ear, 
 For war's most foul, perverted torch has here 
 Lighted the depths of infamy and woe. 
 Her deepest note is where art's ruins grow, 
 Where her cathedral bells no longer cheer, 
 Where learning's halls, that ne'er had felt a fear. 
 Defiled with ash and wreck, lie lone and low. 
 
 She may be silent in her body's length, 
 But in her soul's she leaps with newer strength 
 To all the heights a people dare to know; 
 And there she stands a symbol of war's worst, 
 Where History shall, of her relentless foe. 
 Proclaim he made this hallowed spot accursed. 
 
 25 
 
BELGIUM 
 
 I 
 O Belgium, now discrowned and battle-rent, 
 Thy children famished or in panic fled. 
 Thy streets acquaint with ashes and the dead. 
 Thy storied piles in ruin's ravishment; 
 Where war's worst horrors camp impenitent. 
 Till all the angels on thy naked head 
 Oceans of heaven-bestowing tears have shed, 
 While Pity's voices to the skies lament. 
 
 Yet such a glorious figure dost thou seem 
 Thou art beyond the Poet's word or dream — 
 A thing inefifably divine and fair; 
 And for thy King, so grandly great he looms, 
 That where he stands exalting is the air. 
 And every virtue in its glory blooms. 
 
 26 
 
BELGIUM 
 II 
 
 The deadliest ones that Satan ever trained 
 To work their terrors on a prostrate land 
 Have been let loose on thee, O Belgium, grand 
 In ail the abysmal woes thou hast attained ; 
 And grand in heroisms so ingrained 
 In thy rich fibre, that their gold shall stand 
 Beyond the ages, nor be ever banned 
 Till universal earth with crime be stained. 
 
 Tears cannot mitigate thy starless gloom 
 Though they submerge the horrors of thy doom, 
 While sympathy in hopelessness expires. 
 Ye heavenly Powers, in your resistless might 
 Invent some punishment of subtlest ires 
 For these unnatural monsters of the Night. 
 
 27 
 
BELGIUM 
 III 
 
 Like some enormous beast of shape possessed 
 
 Beyond imagination to portray, 
 
 Which loves to gorge on every kind of prey 
 
 With most inordinate, insatiate zest, 
 
 He sprawls his awful bulk across her breast. 
 
 And feeds upon her substance all the day 
 
 That sees from pitying skies no soothing ray, 
 
 Nor one who can the dreadful feast arrest. 
 
 What things have fed this monster: Slavery's chains. 
 Murders and thefts, God's hallowed, beauteous fanes. 
 Fierce, gnawing hunger eased by alien bread, 
 A devastation only fiends would make. 
 Oppressive impositions breathing dread, 
 While all her body's blood is his to take. 
 
 28 
 
BELGIUM 
 
 IV 
 
 We often wonder how such things can be : 
 The skies o'er Belgium were serenely blue, 
 Her wheels of industry ran swift and true, 
 And it was pledged her that she should be free ; 
 Still by the despot's violate decree. 
 Her gates were shattered and his millions through 
 Their portals poured, a scourging way to hew 
 Across her outraged bosom to the sea. 
 
 Then followed f rightfulness that all the world 
 But knows too well and in his face has hurled 
 Until he stands of Kings the crowning shame ; 
 And all the partial-histories of his own 
 Can only add to his immortal fame 
 As one who stood in obloquy alone. 
 
 29 
 
SERBIA 
 
 O Serbia, the world for thee complains, 
 
 Except the two that opened horror's mine, 
 
 And yet its copious tears have borne no sign 
 
 Of mitigation that would melt thy chains. 
 
 The war-lords would not hear thy abject strains. 
 
 Nor would they bend to any plea of thine, 
 
 But with deliberation's deep design 
 
 They overwhelmed thee with their warring trains. 
 
 And now from out thy miserable woes 
 
 Thou wonderest if thy world-ensanguined foes 
 
 Will ever yield thy devastated breast; 
 
 Ah yes, thy eagles from their mountain height 
 
 Behold Columbia's sons with blazoned crest 
 
 March on by Liberty's celestial light. 
 
 30 
 
FRANCE 
 
 INSCRIBED TO J. J. JUSSERAND 
 
 I 
 
 Ye spirits of our fathers, who of old 
 
 Loved France with love that thrills us evermore, 
 
 Oh, be with her in this her trial sore, 
 
 Until her skies in purple lie and gold; 
 
 Till her great flag amid the stars enrolled. 
 
 Incarnadined anew, learns victory's lore. 
 
 And till from out the agony and gore 
 
 Her ravished provinces her arms enfold. 
 
 Be with her sons when Battle madly soars 
 
 As when defeat's blood on the ground it pours, 
 
 And with them dream of glories yet to be. 
 
 Burn in their souls what she has been to you ; 
 
 With vision glorified her beauty see. 
 
 And with her blood and tears their hearts imbue. 
 
 31 
 
FRANCE 
 II 
 
 O deathless France, what radiant names are thine- 
 So radiant ever that they can but be 
 The star-crowned ones who by supreme decree 
 Forever march beneath Fame's gloried sign. 
 On some, great Art has set her seal divine, 
 Science has myriads crowned in high degree. 
 While in the train far reaching we can see 
 Children flame-souled of the eternal Nine. 
 
 Thy breast is as a garden where there spring 
 All creatures of the ground with those that wing 
 In airy rapture through the spacious skies; 
 And may all spirits of the earth and air 
 Help build a cordon round thee which shall rise 
 Above the direst hates thy foes can dare. 
 
 32 
 
FRANCE 
 III 
 The Muses all have crowned thee, glorious one, 
 With gorgeous diadems that never fade. 
 Until thy words and deeds by fame arrayed 
 Would dare to pale the brilliance of the sun. 
 Devotion's gold in molten stream has run 
 Through thy fond children's veins till they have laid 
 On thee such sacrificial bloom and blade, 
 That greater consecration there is none. 
 
 With what thou art and what thy children are. 
 And lumined by the beams of every star. 
 While Fortune kisses thee on lip and cheek, 
 O shalt thou not thy dangers grandly breast, 
 And on thy foes thy just revenges wreak. 
 Till wrapped in peace thou take thy years of rest. 
 
 33 
 
FRANCE 
 
 IV 
 
 If all the winds upon the earth that fly 
 Could be commanded by this will of mine, 
 Thy utmost heart's desires to thee and thine 
 Would then be swept in glorious triumph high. 
 If all good wishes that so futile cry 
 Could be arrayed 'neath thy embattled sign, 
 Thy soul refreshed as by celestial wine 
 On Victory's breast in ecstasy would lie. 
 
 O France, my love for thee runs brimming o'er 
 My eager cup of life until no more 
 Can feeling strike one pulse-beat that is higher. 
 My prayers go up for thee these doubtful days 
 As on the wings of some exhaustless fire 
 That bears the fragrant roses of my praise. 
 
 34 
 
FRANCE 
 V 
 'Tis not alone thy monuments so great, 
 Nor statues fair that jewel all the land, 
 Nor pictures done by the immortal hand, 
 Till Art is thine as by decreeing fate ; 
 Nor buildings which all sense of beauty sate, 
 Nor thy blest country, beautiful as grand. 
 Producing riches by thy loved command 
 Which fall in surplus at thy every gate; 
 
 No, these are not what bind my heart to thee, 
 But thine own sons, heroic, learned, free. 
 All unexhaustless, liberal-hearted, true; 
 And can such men be less than mightful now. 
 When Fortune holds the brightest to their view. 
 And yearns with fadeless bay to deck their brow? 
 
 35 
 
FRANCE 
 VI 
 
 Women of France, O ever-glorious band! 
 The mothers of these unexampled sons, 
 In you the Revolution's life-blood runs 
 To meet in crucifixion each demand. 
 Devoted evermore, ye are the grand, 
 Immortal progeny of noble ones, 
 Who blench not at the dreadful roar of guns, 
 Nor gaze with fear upon their ash-strewn land. 
 
 What inspiration marked your splendid mien, 
 When war enveloped all the lurid scene. 
 And millions sprang at France's call to die! 
 Like some majestic figure, silent, lone. 
 And tearless, towering infinitely high. 
 We saw you then as Victory's very own. 
 
 36 
 
FRANCE 
 VII 
 
 That war is hell we often have been told, 
 Nor can we blink the truth of this worn phrase, 
 And in these bosom-rending, awful days 
 The deeps of hell our eyes will sure behold ; 
 But be its waves the highest ever rolled, 
 Thy sons in undismay will meet their gaze, 
 And plunging to their deepest depths will raise 
 A victory for thy heart of heart to hold. 
 
 And in their arms aloft they'll proudly bear 
 Lorraine and Alsace, saved from all despair. 
 Still loved the more for what they have endured ; 
 And rest they'll bring thee, rest for many years ; 
 Mankind of war will then be nobly cured. 
 And thou shalt have thy peace bereft of fears. 
 
 37 
 
FRANCE 
 VIII 
 
 O France who walkest in these clouds of night 
 As one unfearing all the hells of hate, 
 Sublimely poised, and led by certain fate 
 Along the pathway of eternal Right ; 
 The Ages look on thee with wondering sight, 
 For thou art so imperishably great, 
 Thou dost for all the eager world create 
 Still newer creatures in the Realms of Light. 
 
 Thy wounded monuments cry out with pain, 
 
 Thy murdered homes to heaven's high court complaii 
 
 Yet on these wrecks thy noble courage feeds ; 
 
 Which now companioned by immortal things 
 
 Will bear aloft thy soul's aspiring needs 
 
 On mighty, unimaginable wings. 
 
 Originally published at San Francisco in "L'Echo de I'Ouest," 
 accompanied by translation into French by M. Leon Tristan. 
 
 38 
 
FRANCE 
 IX 
 
 Upborne within the providential arms 
 Of gloried destiny, thou sweep'st along, 
 The seat of Art, of Letters and of Song, 
 And bright with radiance of a million charms. 
 The years have torn thee with unnumbered harms, 
 Drawing thy blood in torrents deep and strong, 
 While crimsoned terrors, throng on crowded throng. 
 Have fed to gorging all thy wild alarms. 
 
 Yet purged and strengthened on thy fortuned throne 
 
 Thou art indeed a creature of God's own, 
 
 Magnificent, eternally sublime; 
 
 Exemplar of the noblest man has known, 
 
 In every age and every wondrous time 
 
 The Nations reaping what thy hand had sown. 
 
 39 
 
FRANCE 
 X 
 
 In these great days thou treadest out the grain 
 That man for his emancipation needs, 
 And which despite earth's selfish, sordid greeds 
 Will ripen in thy fields of laboring pain. 
 Thy glorious Revolution does not wane, 
 But with new hope and aspiration feeds 
 The hearts and souls of men, until their creeds 
 Shall catch renascent life-blood from thy reign. 
 
 I see thee standing like some radiant form 
 
 In dawn's first glimmer, and around thee swarm 
 
 Innumerable figures most divine ; 
 
 Great lakes of cleansing blood are at thy feet, 
 
 And on their surface wraiths incessant shine 
 
 Of men whose souls can never know defeat. 
 
 40 
 
VERDUN 
 
 Thou art, Verdun, one of the names that blaze 
 
 Upon thy country's consecrated roll 
 
 As one who looked into thy deep-set soul, 
 
 And at its mandate soared above all praise. 
 
 Thy frenzied foe assailed thy gates in ways 
 
 Bespeaking desperation's maddening goal, 
 
 Thy walls were crushed till scarcely one stood whole, 
 
 And till War gorged on blood to his amaze. 
 
 But France was ever by thy radiant side, 
 And thou at last with heaven-approving pride 
 Greeted the world in victory supreme. 
 O'er thy dead ones we breathe no single sigh, 
 For these are ambered in our fairest dream. 
 And in the heart of time all freshly lie. 
 
 41 
 
THE FLAGS OF VERDUN 
 
 We kneel before you, Flags of battle's ire, 
 In adoration more than love can know, 
 For you in victory soared above the foe 
 When he had deemed you bent to his desire. 
 Glory ne'er shone in such complete attire, 
 Nor gave the air it blest such radiant glow. 
 As you that float on triumph's breath to show 
 Your country's inextinguishable fire. 
 
 France folds you tenderly upon her breast. 
 And there, with fondest consecration blest. 
 You shall repose for time's unending years; 
 Nor does War's devastation scourge this plain. 
 But countless blossoms, fed by blood and tears, 
 In beauty's youth immortally here reign. 
 
 42 
 
JOAN OF ARC 
 
 Thou angel creature of heroic mould, 
 Who liv'st within the light of fame's desire, 
 Apollo should have had thee for his lyre, 
 And sang of thee as nature's living gold. 
 Upon thy country's page thou art enscrolled 
 As sole rekindler of its dying fire, 
 The inspiration of its noblest ire, 
 Still loftier than the best of thee yet told. 
 
 Mysterious voices from the depths were thine. 
 
 Which were in truth as messages divine. 
 
 For all great souls lie close to marvellous things. 
 
 And now once more, with thy inviolate sign, 
 
 Thou leadest France where Battle spreads his wings. 
 
 And where the stars of Right resplendent shine. 
 
 43 
 
EDITH CAVELL 
 
 When shielding midnight saw the awful deed 
 That shrank before the sun's accusing ray, 
 The Kaiser, all humaneness to betray. 
 Made this deep-souled one murderously bleed. 
 But from her sanguined form the golden seed 
 Of dauntless heroism flowers for aye. 
 And consecration in eternal day 
 Proclaims the fact of her inviolate breed. 
 
 A special horror seizes on our hearts 
 When monstrous War, with its hell-breathing arts, 
 Could so pollute the blessed midnight hour; 
 When cradling dreams rock children in their arms. 
 And nurses such as she, with soothing power. 
 The mangled sufferer leads from pain's alarms. 
 
 44 
 
THE ENEMY 
 I 
 
 We tread the darksome, pandemonic way- 
 Mid war's unspeakable, abysmal fire, 
 Where the mad horrors of his heart's desire 
 Have made all things his unrelenting prey. 
 Peace stands aghast at his untold array, 
 His countless slain, his desolations dire, 
 Until it seems as though she might expire 
 Amid the ruins of the world's decay. 
 
 This beast the Teuton reared with subtle skill, 
 And loosed him only when his strength to kill 
 Was deemed sufficient for his ravenous maw; 
 His appetite is great as that of Rome; 
 For it he makes a laughing mock of law, 
 And murders even in the heart of home. 
 
 45 
 
THE ENEMY 
 II 
 
 The little children laughing in his eyes 
 With barbarous fiendishness he joys to slay, 
 The Son is borne in slavery far away 
 From his fond mother's lamentable cries; 
 The fanes that gloried the adoring skies 
 And in the arms of speechless beauty lay, 
 In rapine's sport, to crown a murderous day, 
 He gives to ruin as his dearest prize. 
 
 He strides the earth with such death-dealing gloom 
 
 As threats to make it one stupendous tomb 
 
 Wherein all liberty shall sink from view. 
 
 He towers the awful menace of mankind. 
 
 And leads his merciless, dynastic crew 
 
 To noisome depths that only devils can find. 
 
 46 
 
THE ANARCHIST 
 
 A human being is this one to sight, 
 
 But only so in outer shape is he, 
 
 For in his soul a ravening beast we see, 
 
 Who gorges on the poisonous husks of night. 
 
 The Law that binds all written forms of right. 
 
 To bid society live safe and free, 
 
 He reckless rends with traitorous, mocking glee. 
 
 While murder stirs him to his chief delight. 
 
 This monstrous one has fed on maddening dreams 
 Till fancied wrong through all his being streams 
 And makes him unrelated to the world. 
 Excuse for him compassion dares not show; 
 Then to perdition's deeps let him be hurled 
 As man's accursed, most infernal foe. 
 
 47 
 
THE BOMB 
 
 IN A RAID ON LONDON BY GERMAN AEROPLANES JUNE I3, 
 
 1917, 26 CHILDREN WERE KILLED AND 94 WOUNDED, THE 
 
 TOTAL NUMBER OF CASUALTIES BEING 534 
 
 No lightning stroke from the impartial skies 
 Mangled and slew these little children here, 
 Nor earthquake shock in its ill-starred career 
 Of falling towers and agonizing cries; 
 But that arch criminal who snugly lies 
 In Satan's arms, and from that couch of cheer 
 Sends out his winged messengers of fear 
 To slaughter innocence before his eyes. 
 
 These harmless ones like birds were wrapped in play, 
 When unsuspecting, to their dire dismay, 
 His bombs fell on them from the tranquil air. 
 In war's dread annals shall he stand accursed, 
 While in the hoary book of hell's despair 
 His blood-writ name eternally stands first. 
 
 48 
 
WAR'S TIME 
 
 This is War's time, and he must have his way 
 Let not the unpatriot raise his doubtful cries, 
 Nor fearsome pacifist philosophize, 
 For War can brook no hindrance to his sway. 
 This dreadful, dreaded chief we must obey; 
 He sounds his clarion from approving skies 
 And all our foes in confidence defies. 
 Till every voice should hearten his array. 
 
 Renounce all dreaming of seductive peace. 
 And every energy and thought release 
 In saving man from miseries yet untold. 
 'Tis War alone that now can feed our souls. 
 And so we must, in his great cause enrolled, 
 March to the conquest of supremest goals. 
 
 49 
 
CONSUMMATION 
 
 England and France, implacable as foes, 
 On many a field have desperately striven, 
 But now with brother's love divinely given 
 They join their lives against tremendous woes ; 
 And as America superbly shows 
 Her bannered glory in the face of heaven, 
 Entwined with theirs long bared to battle's levin. 
 Our yearned-f or victory to surety grows — 
 
 A victory bringing peace whose righteous will 
 Shall end forevermore the teuton ill. 
 To give mankind a hope-begotten day; 
 And one that they whose watchful spirits lean 
 From out Elysium's battlements would say 
 Is clothed with justice and with cheer serene. 
 
 50 
 
TO ITALY 
 
 O Italy, thine are the treasured years, 
 And thine the deeds that blazon every time. 
 Twinned with the Muses deathlessly sublime, 
 Upborne on music of the heavenly spheres. 
 Thou hast beat off untrembling all the fears 
 That shook thy soul at base betrayal's crime, 
 Till Hope has given thee in joy to climb 
 The peaks where glory charioteers. 
 
 The Adriatic as thine own loved sea 
 In all the blessed years to come shall be. 
 Its children folded on thy dauntless breast. 
 Oh, blood will come, and thou shalt suffer sore. 
 But at the end thy heart shall have its rest, 
 And Liberty be thine forevermore. 
 
 51 
 
RUSSIA 
 
 O Liberty! Thou being most divine, 
 Wrought from the tissue of the starry skies, 
 The jewel in the heart that deepest lies. 
 The last thing man would willingly resign. 
 Through all the ages what ensanguined sign 
 Has marked the tyrant's course in every guise; 
 What souls have seen their bonds resistless rise, 
 What souls have sunk in agony to pine! 
 
 Now Russia, with a Titan's glorious might 
 Has rived her fetters, and emerged from night 
 Stands in God's sunlight disenthralled and free; 
 Then blow your golden trumpets loud and long 
 As we her radiant birth in wonder see, 
 And raptured hear her consecrated song. 
 
 Originally published in the San Francisco "Chronicle." 
 
 52 
 
FUNSTON 
 
 Ah, lay the flag upon his breast, 
 And place him in the sorrowing earth ; 
 Give now this soldier honored rest 
 This soldier of transcendent worth. 
 
 His country owned his utmost soul ; 
 'Twas his for her to do and dare ; 
 She was to him the only goal, 
 She was to him the fairest fair. 
 
 When he was born the Eagle smiled. 
 Foreknowing well his starred career. 
 Assured that as her own true child 
 He'd carve his way without a peer. 
 
 53 
 
And so the thickening laurel grew 
 Upon his brow all lustrous bright, 
 Where modesty had ample due 
 Along with consciousness of right ; . 
 
 Along with manhood's strength and grace 
 That could to smallness ne'er descend, 
 But rose majestic to embrace 
 Whatever fortune fate might send ; 
 
 Along with virtues that endear 
 His memory to the patriot heart, 
 Where now beside his gloried bier 
 The tears of all the country start. 
 
 54 
 
When earthquake's wrath with raging fire 
 
 Combined to lay our city low, 
 
 And she in elemental ire 
 
 Seemed destined to heart-withering woe ; 
 
 'Twas Funston's mastery then that quelled 
 Disorder in its lawless way, 
 And horror's frightful fears dispelled 
 Till shone in peace another day; 
 
 So she beside his bier now weeps 
 The tears that from her bosom well, 
 And lays there from her garden deeps 
 The laurel and the asphodel. 
 
 55 
 
FRANCE TO AMERICA 
 
 ON THE OCCASION OF AMERICA JOINING THE 
 ENTENTE ALLIES IN THE WAR 
 
 I 
 
 Hail, America, hail, land of the noble free, 
 
 And Liberty's resplendent morning star, 
 
 Since thou and I, thy partner France, in far. 
 
 Imperial times were joined on land and sea. 
 
 The years have gathered in their sweeping arms 
 
 The strangest things that ever froze the sight, 
 
 Or, fed upon the bane of wild alarms. 
 
 Have sought the soulless regions of the night; 
 
 Yet at the last they found the blessed good. 
 
 And set man's feet upon the righteous way. 
 
 Where thou and I on victory's summit stood, 
 
 And saw the glorious grandeur of a day 
 
 When Liberty sat crowned amid her deathless brood. 
 
 56 
 
II 
 
 America is with us, this alone 
 
 Bestows a hope that banishes all glooms 
 
 Till every future in the sunlight looms, 
 
 And seems in truth to be our hallowed own ; 
 
 Alsace, Lorraine, that in the teuton chain 
 
 Have writhed for grievous years, already feel 
 
 The bliss of freedom swell in every vein, 
 
 And to their France the deepest homage seal. 
 
 Oh, blest beyond believing was the air 
 
 That felt our flags, commingling into one. 
 
 Kiss the fond breezes, and rejoicing bare 
 
 Their consecrated bosoms to the sun 
 
 That seemed a new-born brilliance mocking at despair. 
 
 51 
 
Ill 
 
 Thou comest to us as a great ally 
 Clothed in the splendor of thy stern array, 
 And makest such a wonder of the day 
 As never yet was seen beneath the sky : 
 O'er London's towers thy jeweled emblem floats 
 As though it were St. George's very own, 
 In laud of thee from congregated throats 
 The anthem soars in presence of the throne; 
 While thy great President's illustrious name 
 Is swiftly borne upon the wings of praise. 
 Until the glories of his added fame 
 Throughout the world unconquerably blaze 
 In one inviolate, imperishable flame. 
 
 58 
 
IV 
 
 O Liberty, thou art of all the names 
 
 That hang in golden accents on the tongue, 
 
 Or ever was in temple said or sung, 
 
 The one that in the soul forever flames ; 
 
 What is it to be free? It is God's air 
 
 To breathe deep-lunged and know it all your own ; 
 
 To have a master other than despair; 
 
 To reap where you in toilsome sweat have sown ; 
 
 To feel no stinging whip nor prodding goad ; 
 
 Some leisure hours to own wherein you may 
 
 Ease life of its intolerable load; 
 
 To write, and speak, and print, without a nay 
 
 From Kaiser, King or Czar, or word-encrusted Code. 
 
 59 
 
For this we fight, for this our banners blaze ; 
 For this they twine in fold on flaming fold ; 
 For this they wave in glory uncontrolled 
 Save by aspiring hopes' victorious days ; 
 For this my brave ones drove the haughty foe 
 Away from Paris's endangered gates ; 
 For this before Verdun they dealt the blow 
 That still throughout the world reverberates ; 
 For this thou gavest us thy timely aid 
 Upon the land and on the billowy sea ; 
 For this Democracy has ever prayed. 
 Oh, let it come ; let peoples all be free, 
 And man erect and strong be never more afraid. 
 
 Read on July 14, 1917, at the French celebration of the fall 
 of the Bastile. 
 
 60 
 
VICTURI SALUTAMUS 
 
 June 5, 1917 
 
 Ah no, not we who are about to die, 
 But we who are about to live, are they 
 That offer thee salute : we were but clay 
 Whom sordid selfishness had emptied dry. 
 Now we behold fresh splendors in the sky: 
 On this our country's consecrated day 
 Death's banner breeds no feeling of dismay 
 With Life's abounding joy in fullness nigh. 
 
 Our blood runs swiftly through its forceful veins 
 At thought of riving soul-destroying chains. 
 As soars aloft Hope's heart-enthralling song. 
 O friends across the still tormented sea. 
 We come, our country's messengers, along 
 The golden ways of star-crowned Liberty. 
 
 Originally published in the San Francisco "Chronicle" 
 
 61 
 
THE RED CROSS 
 
 At last the long-drawn, dreadful fight is o'er; 
 These horror-breeding dead all peaceful lie, 
 Unfelt the rain from out an angry sky, 
 Which cleanses faces that can smile no more. 
 Now hushed the combat's oath, the deafening roar, 
 But hear the agonizing groan and sigh, 
 The shriek, the wail, the multitudinous cry, 
 Of mangled thousands deep in dirt and gore. 
 
 Yet Mercy treads on battle's bloody heels. 
 And here the glory of her soul reveals 
 In ministration of her blessed rites ; 
 No one escapes her searching, tender care, 
 And angels follow her as she incites 
 The most despondent never to despair. 
 
 62 
 
THE CALL 
 
 To knowledge does he bend his willing knee 
 That grows from what his laboring years have sown, 
 And now alluringness could ne'er be shown 
 More brightly than his future dares decree. 
 Ambitions satisfied he joys to see, 
 Applause of men that he would gladly own. 
 His State to serve, or some great cause enthrone 
 Where it shall feed on immortality. 
 
 But when he lifts his partly blinded eyes, 
 And sees the flag afloat upon the skies — 
 His country's flag, the jewel of the world. 
 His vision opens at the magic sight. 
 And evervthing to nothingness is whirled 
 Except the thought that he has found the Right. 
 
 63 
 
THE FLAG 
 
 Blest emblem of the mighty free, 
 Undaunted, stainless shalt thou be 
 As long as Liberty shall own 
 Our homage and our souls alone. 
 
 Oh, be it thus forevermore. 
 Make it our still increasing store, 
 Till in the utmost night of time 
 Men treasure nothing more sublime. 
 
 64 
 
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