AFTER HIS LONG SILENCE

Dear old friend of us all in need Who know the worth of a friend indeed, How rejoiced are we all to learn Of your glad return.

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We who have missed your voice so long-- Even as March might miss the song Of the sugar-bird in the maples when They're tapped again.

Even as the memory of these _Blended_ sweets,--the sap of the trees And the song of the birds, and the old camp too, We think of you.

Hail to you, then, with welcomes deep As grateful hearts may laugh or weep!-- You give us not only the bird that sings, But all good things.

[Ill.u.s.tration: To the quiet observer--tailpiece]

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[Ill.u.s.tration: Reach your hand to me--headpiece]

REACH YOUR HAND TO ME

Reach your hand to me, my friend, With its heartiest caress-- Sometime there will come an end To its present faithfulness-- Sometime I may ask in vain For the touch of it again, When between us land or sea Holds it ever back from me.

{177}

[Ill.u.s.tration: Reach your hand to me, my friend]

{179}

Sometime I may need it so, Groping somewhere in the night, It will seem to me as though Just a touch, however light, Would make all the darkness day, And along some sunny way Lead me through an April-shower Of my tears to this fair hour.

O the present is too sweet To go on forever thus!

Round the corner of the street Who can say what waits for us?-- Meeting--greeting, night and day, Faring each the selfsame way-- Still somewhere the path must end-- Reach your hand to me, my friend!

[Ill.u.s.tration: Reach your hand to me--tailpiece]

{180}

[Ill.u.s.tration: The dead joke and the funny man--headpiece]

THE DEAD JOKE AND THE FUNNY MAN

Long years ago, a funny man, Flushed with a strange delight, Sat down and wrote a funny thing All in the solemn night; And as he wrote he clapped his hands And laughed with all his might.

For it was such a funny thing, O, such a very funny thing, This wonderfully funny thing, He Laughed Outright.

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And so it was this funny man Printed this funny thing-- Forgot it, too, nor ever thought It worth remembering, Till but a day or two ago.

(Ah! what may changes bring!) He found this selfsame funny thing In an exchange--"O, funny thing!"

He cried, "You dear old funny thing!"

And Sobbed Outright.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The dead joke and the funny man--tailpiece]

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[Ill.u.s.tration: America's Thanksgiving--headpiece]

AMERICA'S THANKSGIVING

1900

Father all bountiful, in mercy bear With this our universal voice of prayer-- The voice that needs must be Upraised in thanks to Thee, O Father, from Thy children everywhere.

A mult.i.tudinous voice, wherein we fain Wouldst have Thee hear no lightest sob of pain-- No murmur of distress, Nor moan of loneliness, Nor drip of tears, though soft as summer rain.

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And, Father, give us first to comprehend, No ill can come from Thee; lean Thou and lend Us clearer sight to see Our boundless debt to Thee, Since all Thy deeds are blessings, in the end.

And let us feel and know that, being Thine, We are inheritors of hearts divine, And hands endowed with skill, And strength to work Thy will, And fashion to fulfilment Thy design.

So, let us thank Thee, with all self aside, Nor any lingering taint of mortal pride; As here to Thee we dare Uplift our faltering prayer, Lend it some fervor of the glorified.

We thank Thee that our land is loved of Thee The blessed home of thrift and industry, With ever-open door Of welcome to the poor-- Thy shielding hand o'er all abidingly.

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E'en thus we thank Thee for the wrong that grew Into a right that heroes battled to, With brothers long estranged, Once more as brothers ranged Beneath the red and white and starry blue.

Ay, thanks--though tremulous the thanks expressed-- Thanks for the battle at its worst, and best-- For all the clanging fray Whose discord dies away Into a pastoral-song of peace and rest.

{185}

[Ill.u.s.tration: Old Indiany--headpiece]

OLD INDIANY

INTENDED FOR A DINNER OF THE INDIANA SOCIETY OF CHICAGO