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 passed 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 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.
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? God only knows.
