Blue noon shines o'er the sea;
Waves break starry on the sand;
Lights and sounds and scents come free
On the radiant air of the land.
I am filled with the melody of waves
That take my heart onward in tune;
My heart follows yearning after, and craves
No other delight nor boon.

They enfold the earth in desire
With a closer and closer kiss;
From life into life they expire,
In dying their birth and their bliss.
I am melted in them, I am filled
With the passion in peace they have found.
Even so would my spirit in peace be thrilled,

(Recruitment Poster)
I can love a dog,
but a whole country
with interests bigger
than death?
You gotta be kidding!

that way, uncle,
you mean to use me

Let us make love, let us make war,
This is your motto, boys, these are your courses;
War may appear to cost people too dear,
But love re-imburses, but love re-imburses.

The foe and the fair, let 'em see what we are,
For the good of the nation, the good of the nation;
What possible debtor can pay his debts better,
Than De -population with Re -population?

H ERE'S the place to seat us, love!
A perfect arbour! Look above,
How the delicate sprays, like hair,
Bend them to the breaths of air!
Listen, too! It is a rill,
Telling us its gentle will.
Who that knows what luxury is,
Could go by a place like this?

A female voice is heard, issuing forth softly and tenderly.

My widowed Love!

Recitative of another voice, a man's

Hark, princely mourner! 'tis the voice of her
You loved on earth, that with her favourite strings
Comes mingling thus, like smiling dreams that stir
The lips of day-sweet Patience. Hark! She sings!

The voice returns.

Look up, look up, and weep not so,
My Leopold! My love!
Thou touchest me with such a woe,
As should not be above.
Pray be, as thou wast all along,

I

K NEE-DEEP among the buttercups, the sun
Gilding the scutcheons and the gilded mail,
Gilding the crowned helm and leopard crest,
Dear, see they pant and strike at your desire.

And one goes down among the emerald grass,
And one stands over him his dagger poised,
His visor raised, his blood-shot eyes a-travel
Over the steel that lies between his feet,
Crushing the buttercups . . . and so the point goes in
Between the gorget and the habergeon . . .
And blood floods out upon the buttercups,
Gules, or and vert beneath an azure sky.

Ah, let my hand lie warm in thine, the hand that held the pen;
It shall not miss its once-loved task, nor long to work again.
And let me hide my weary eyes against thy sheltering breast;
Let others wear the bays I craved; I know that love is best!

Art's paths were over-sharp for me, and cold its mountain air;
For I am but a woman, dear, and Love's land is so fair!
So half-way up Fame's steep incline I pause and yield my place.
What! dare you ask if I regret? Bend close and read my face!

T ERROR'S and wrath's brave champion, Doctor Ban,
Scorning us holders to the loving plan,
Asks if we " take God for a gentleman?"

The scandal of the question match who can!
God's not, we own, to be defined by man;
But why must he resemble Doctor Ban?

I ANTHE took me by both ears and said
You are so rash, I own I am afraid.
Prop, or keep hidden in your breast, my name,
But be your love as lasting as your fame.

Censured by her who stands above
The Sapphic Muse in song and love,
" For minding what such people do,"
I turn in confidence to you.
Now, Forster, did you never stop
At orange-peel or turnip-top,
To kick them from your path, and then
Complacently walk on agen?