Sowing a million flowers, where now we mourn --

Laying new, precious pavements with a song,

Founding new shrines, the good streets to adorn.

I have seen lovers by those new-built walls

Clothed like the dawn in orange, gold and red.

Eyes flashing forth the glory-light of love

Under the wreaths that crowned each royal head.

Life was made greater by their sweetheart prayers.

Passion was turned to civic strength that day --

Piling the marbles, making fairer domes

With zeal that else had burned bright youth away.

I have seen priestesses of life go by

Gliding in samite through the incense-sea --

Innocent children marching with them there,

Singing in flowered robes, "THE EARTH IS FREE":

While on the fair, deep-carved unfinished towers

Sentinels watched in armor, night and day --

Guarding the brazier-fires of hope and dream --

Wild was their peace, and dawn-bright their array!

A Rhyme about an Electrical Advertising Sign

I look on the specious electrical light

Blatant, mechanical, crawling and white,

Wickedly red or malignantly green

Like the beads of a young Senegambian queen.

Showing, while millions of souls hurry on,

The virtues of collars, from sunset till dawn,

By dart or by tumble of whirl within whirl,

Starting new fads for the shame-weary girl,

By maggoty motions in sickening line

Proclaiming a hat or a soup or a wine,

While there far above the steep cliffs of the street

The stars sing a message elusive and sweet.

Now man cannot rest in his pleasure and toil

His clumsy contraptions of coil upon coil

Till the thing he invents, in its use and its range,

Leads on to the marvellous CHANGE BEYOND CHANGE.

Some day this old Broadway shall climb to the skies,

As a ribbon of cloud on a soul-wind shall rise.

And we shall be lifted, rejoicing by night,

Till we join with the planets who choir their delight.

The signs in the street and the signs in the skies

Shall make a new Zodiac, guiding the wise,

And Broadway make one with that marvellous stair

That is climbed by the rainbow-clad spirits of prayer.

In Memory of a Child

The angels guide him now,

And watch his curly head,

And lead him in their games,

The little boy we led.

He cannot come to harm,

He knows more than we know,

His light is brighter far

Than daytime here below.

His path leads on and on,

Through pleasant lawns and flowers,

His brown eyes open wide

At grass more green than ours.

With playmates like himself,

The shining boy will sing,

Exploring wondrous woods,

Sweet with eternal spring.

Galahad, Knight Who Perished

A Poem Dedicated to All Crusaders against the International and Interstate

Traffic in Young Girls

Galahad . . . soldier that perished . . . ages ago,

Our hearts are breaking with shame, our tears overflow.

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