BEARPAWS NATHAN ZEBRATAIL There was once a boy named Nathan Green.He was never rude and never mean.But everyone was scared of him,Nancy, Dennis, Tom and Tim.Nick and Susan, Mike and James,Never let him play their games.He knew why, but didn’t say.His mom said he was born that way.Nathan’s hands aren’t hands at all.They’re bigger than a basketball.They’re covered brown by furry hair,Just like paws on any bear.Nathan... more...

In these days when the old civilisation is crumbling beneath our feet, the thought of poetry crosses the mind like the dear memory of things that have long since passed away. In our passionate desire for the new era, it is difficult to refrain oneself from the commonplace practice of speculating on the effects of warfare and of prophesying all manner of novel rebirths. But it may be well for us to remember that the era which has recently closed... more...

Foreword I've tinkered at my bits of rhymesIn weary, woeful, waiting times;In doleful hours of battle-din,Ere yet they brought the wounded in;Through vigils of the fateful night,In lousy barns by candle-light;In dug-outs, sagging and aflood,On stretchers stiff and bleared with blood;By ragged grove, by ruined road,By hearths accurst where Love abode;By broken altars, blackened shrinesI've tinkered at my bits of rhymes.I've solaced me with scraps... more...

Romance I When I go forth to greet the glad-faced Spring,Just at the time of opening apple-buds,When brooks are laughing, winds are whispering,On babbling hillsides or in warbling woods,There is an unseen presence that eludes:—Perhaps a Dryad, in whose tresses clingThe loamy odors of old solitudes,Who, from her beechen doorway, calls; and leadsMy soul to follow; now with dimpling wordsOf leaves; and now with syllables of birds;While here... more...

Though flattered by imitators galore Miss Potter's work stands supreme. Her many picture stories should be among the first books owned by children.     Cecily Parsley lived in a pen,And brewed good ale for gentlemen;   Gentlemen came every day,Till Cecily Parsley ran away.   Goosey, goosey, gander,Whither will you wander?Upstairs and downstairs,And in my lady's chamber!   This pig went to market;This... more...

THE SEABOARD. The sea is at ebb, and the sound of her utmost word Is soft as the least wave’s lapse in a still small reach. From bay into bay, on quest of a goal deferred, From headland ever to headland and breach to breach Where earth gives ear to the message that all days preach With changes of gladness and sadness that cheer and chide, The lone way lures me along by a chance untried That haply, if hope dissolve not... more...

INVOCATION. Thou with the dark blue eye upturned to heaven,And cheek now pale, now warm with radiant glow,          Daughter of God,—most dear,—          Come with thy quivering tear,And tresses wild, and robes of loosened flow,—To thy lone votaress let one look be given! Come Poesy! nor like some just-formed maid,With heart as... more...

Amos and Ann had a poem to learn,A poem to learn one day;But alas! they sighed, and alack! they cried,’Twere better to go and play.Ann was sure ’twas a waste of timeTo bother a child with jingling rhyme.Amos said, “What’s the sense in rhythm—Feet and lines?” He had finished with ’em! They peered at the poem with scowly faces,And yawned and stumbled and lost their places.Then—a breeze romped by, and... more...

NOTE The motif of the story embodied in the following poem was crudely outlined in a brief sketch printed in an early collection of the authors verse, and subsequently cancelled for a purpose not until now accomplished. Wyndham Towers is not to be confused with this discarded sketch, the text of which has furnished only a phrase, or an indirect suggestion, here and there. That the writer's method, when recasting the poem, was more or less... more...

THE COLORS It isn't just colors and bunting—The red and the blue and the white.It's something heaps better and finer,—It's the soul of my country in sight! There's a lot of ceremony 'bout the Flag,Though many half-baked patriots believeSalutin' it and hangin' it correct"Is only loyalty upon the sleeve."But we who work beneath the Flag to-day,Who'll honor it—and die for it, perhaps—Get a slightly different view of the... more...