men....
And one saw all the April hills
Made glad with golden daffodils,
And found and kissed his love again....

. . . . . .

By all the troubled hearts he cheers
In homely ways or by lost trails,
By all light shed through all dark years
When hope grows sick and courage quails,
We hail him first among his peers;
Whether we sorrow, sing, or feast,
He, too, hath known and understood--
Master of many moods, high priest
Of mirth and lord of cleansing tears!

A POLITICIAN

LEADER no more, be judged of us!
Hailed Chief, and loved, of yore--
Youth, and the faith of youth, cry out:
_Leader and Chief no more!_

We dreamed a Prophet, flushed with faith,
Content to toil in pain
If that his sacrifice might be,
Somehow, his people's gain.

We saw a vision, and our blood
Beat red and hot and strong:
_"Lead us_ (we cried) _to war against
Some foul, embattled wrong!"_

We dreamed a Warrior whose sword
Was edged for sham and shame;
We dreamed a Statesman far above
The vulgar lust for fame.

We were not cynics, and we dreamed
A Man who made no truce
With lies nor ancient privilege
Nor old, entrenched abuse.

We dreamed ... we dreamed ... Youth dreamed
a dream!
And even you forgot
Yourself, one moment, and dreamed, too--
Struck, while your mood was hot!

Struck three or four good blows ... and then
Turned back to easier things:
The cheap applause, the blatant mob,
The praise of underlings!

Praise ... praise ... was ever man so filled,
So avid still, of praise?
So hungry for the crowd's acclaim,
The sycophantic phrase?

O you whom Greatness beckoned to ...
O swollen Littleness
Who turned from Immortality
To fawn upon Success!

O blind with love of self, who led
Youth's vision to defeat,
Bawling and brawling for rewards,
Loud, in the common street!

O you who were so quick to judge--
Leader, and loved, of yore--
Hear now the judgment of our youth:
_Leader and Chief no more!_

THE BAYONET

(1914)

THE great guns slay from a league away, the death-bolts
fly unseen,
And bellowing hill replies to hill, machine to brute
machine,
But still in the end when the long lines bend and
the battle hangs in doubt
They take to the steel in the same old way that
their f