And flashed their evil eyes and weeping cried,
"We ruled the world for Peace. By her own hand she died."

* * * * *

In secret he made sharp the bitter blade,
And poison'd it with bane of lies and drew,
And stabb'd--O God! the Cruel Cripple slew;
And cowards fled or lent him trembling aid,
She fell and died--in all the tale of time
The direst deed e'er done, the most accursed crime.

_Ronald Ross_




IN WAR-TIME

(AN AMERICAN HOMEWARD-BOUND)


Further and further we leave the scene
Of war--and of England's care;
I try to keep my mind serene--
But my heart stays there;

For a distant song of pain and wrong
My spirit doth deep confuse,
And I sit all day on the deck, and long--