Day by day the river widens, that great river of opinion, And its torrent beats and plunges at the base of greed's dominion.

Though you dam it by oppression and fling golden bridges o'er it, Yet the day and hour advances when in fright you'll flee before it.

Yes, I hear the people calling, through the night time and the day time, Wretched toilers in life's autumn, weary young ones in life's May time - They are crying, they are calling for their share of work and pleasure; You are heaping high your coffers while you give them scanty measure, - You have stolen G.o.d's wide acres, just to glut your swollen purses - Oh! restore them to His children ere their pleading turns to curses.

THE WORLD GROWS BETTER

Oh! the earth is full of sinning And of trouble and of woe, But the devil makes an inning Every time we say it's so.

And the way to set him scowling, And to put him back a pace, Is to stop this stupid growling, And to look things in the face.

If you glance at history's pages, In all lands and eras known, You will find the buried ages Far more wicked than our own.

As you scan each word and letter.

You will realise it more, That the world to-day is better Than it ever was before.

There is much that needs amending In the present time, no doubt; There is right that needs amending, There is wrong needs crushing out.

And we hear the groans and curses Of the poor who starve and die, While the men with swollen purses In the place of hearts go by.

But in spite of all the trouble That obscures the sun to-day, Just remember it was double In the ages pa.s.sed away.

And those wrongs shall all be righted, Good shall dominate the land, For the darkness now is lighted By the torch in Science's hand.

Forth from little motes in Chaos, We have come to what we are; And no evil force can stay us - We shall mount from star to star, We shall break each bond and fetter That has bound us heretofore; And the earth is surely better Than it ever was before.

A MAN'S IDEAL

A lovely little keeper of the home, Absorbed in menu books, yet erudite When I need counsel; quick at repartee And slow to anger. Modest as a flower, Yet scintillant and radiant as a star.

Unmercenary in her mould of mind, While opulent and dainty in her tastes.

A nature generous and free, albeit The incarnation of economy.

She must be chaste as proud Diana was, Yet warm as Venus. To all others cold As some white glacier glittering in the sun; To me as ardent as the sensuous rose That yields its sweetness to the burrowing bee All ignorant of evil in the world, And innocent as any cloistered nun, Yet wise as Phryne in the arts of love When I come thirsting to her nectared lips.

Good as the best, and tempting as the worst, A saint, a siren, and a paradox.

THE FIRE BRIGADE

Hark! high o'er the rattle and clamour and clatter Of traffic-filled streets, do you hear that loud noise?

And pushing and rushing to see what's the matter, Like herds of wild cattle, go pell-mell the boys.

There's a fire in the city! the engines are coming!

The bold bells are clanging, "Make way in the street!"

The wheels of the hose-cart are spinning and humming In time to the music of galloping feet.

Make way there! make way there! the horses are flying, The sparks from their swift hoofs shoot higher and higher, The crowds are increasing--the gamins are crying: "Hooray, boys!" "Hooray, boys!" "Come on to the fire!"

With clanging and banging and clatter and rattle The long ladders follow the engine and hose.

The men are all ready to dash into battle; But will they come out again? G.o.d only knows.

At windows and doorways crowd questioning faces; There's something about it that quickens one's breath.

How proudly the brave fellows sit in their places - And speed to the conflict that may be their death!

Still faster and faster and faster and faster The grand horses thunder and leap on their way The red foe is yonder, and may prove the master; Turn out there, bold traffic--turn out there, I say!

For once the loud truckman knows oaths will not matter And reins in his horses and yields to his fate.

The engines are coming! let pleasure-crowds scatter, Let street car and truckman and mail waggon wait.

They speed like a comet--they pa.s.s in a minute; The boys follow on like a tail to a kite; The commonplace street has but traffic now in it - The great fire engines have swept out of sight.

THE TIDES

Be careful what rubbish you toss in the tide.

On outgoing billows it drifts from your sight, But back on the incoming waves it may ride And land at your threshold again before night.

Be careful what rubbish you toss in the tide.

Be careful what follies you toss in life's sea.

On bright dancing billows they drift far away, But back on the Nemesis tides they may be Thrown down at your threshold an unwelcome day Be careful what follies you toss in youth's sea.

WHEN THE REGIMENT CAME BACK

All the uniforms were blue, all the swords were bright and new, When the regiment went marching down the street, All the men were hale and strong as they proudly moved along, Through the cheers that drowned the music of their feet.

Oh the music of the feet keeping time to drums that beat, Oh the splendour and the glitter of the sight, As with swords and rifles new and in uniforms of blue The regiment went marching to the fight!

When the regiment came back all the guns and swords were black And the uniforms had faded out to gray, And the faces of the men who marched through that street again Seemed like faces of the dead who lose their way.

For the dead who lose their way cannot look more wan and gray.

Oh the sorrow and the pity of the sight, Oh the weary lagging feet out of step with drums that beat, As the regiment comes marching from the fight.

WOMAN TO MAN

Woman is man's enemy, rival, and compet.i.tor.--JOHN. J. INGALLS.

You do but jest, sir, and you jest not well, How could the hand be enemy of the arm, Or seed and sod be rivals! How could light Feel jealousy of heat, plant of the leaf, Or compet.i.tion dwell 'twixt lip and smile?