Now look, here is a letter in this pamphlet La Menken writes a poet--for she hunts For seers and for poets, lofty souls. And who does that? A woman wholly bad? Why no, a woman to be given life Fit for her spirit in another realm By God who will take notice, I believe. Now listen if you will! "I know your soul. It has met mine somewhere in starry space. And you must often meet me, vagabond Of fancy without aim, a dweller in tents Disreputable before the just. Just think I am a linguist, write some poems too, Can paint a little, model clay as well. And yet for all these gropings of my soul I am a vagabond, of little use. My body and my soul are in a scramble And do not fit each other--let them carve Those words upon my stone, but also these Thou Knowest, for God knows me, knows I love Whatever is good and beautiful in life; And that my soul has sought them without rest. Farewell, my friend, my spirit is with you, Vienna is too horrible, but know Paris Then die content." Now, Coroner Merival, You're not the only man who wants to see, Will work to make America a republic Of splendors, freedoms, happiness, success. Though I am seventy-six, cannot do much, Save talk, as I am talking now, bring forth Proofs, revelations from the years I've lived. I care not how you view the lives of people, As pansy beds or what not, lift your faith So high above the pansy bed it sees The streaked and stunted pansies filling in The pattern that the perfect pansies outline, Therefore are smiling, even indifferent To this poor conscious pansy, dying at last Because it could not be the flower it wished. My heart to Elenor Murray and La Menken Goes out in sorrow, even while I know They shook their leaves in April, laughed and thrilled, And either did not know, or did not care The growing time was precious, and if wasted Could never be regained. Look at La Menken At seven years put in the ballet corps; And look at Elenor Murray getting smut Out of experience that made her wise. What shall we do about it?--let it go? And say there is no help, or say a republic, Set up a hundred years ago, raised to the helm Of rulership as president a list Of men more able than the emperors, Kings, rulers of the world, and statesmen too The equal of the greatest, money makers, And domineers of finance and economies Phenomenal in time--say, I repeat A country like this one must let its children Waste as they wasted in the darker years Of Europe. Shall we let these trivial minds Who see salvation, progress in restraint, Pre-empt the field of moulding human life? Or shall we take a hand, and put our minds Upon the task, as recently we built An army for the war, equipped and fed it, An army better than all other armies, More powerful, more apt of hand and brain, Of thin tall youths, who did stop but said