Out of the night it leaped the seas-- The four long years of night! “The foe is beaten to his knees, And triumph crowns the fight!” It sweeps the world from shore to shore, By wave and wind ’tis flung, It grows into a mighty roar Of siren, bell and tongue. Where little peoples knelt in fear, They stand in joy today; The hour of their redemption here, Their feet on Freedom’s way. The kings and kaisers flee their doom, Fall bloody crown and throne! Room for the people! Room! Make room! They march to claim their own! Now God be praised we lived to see His Sun of Justice rise, His Sun of Righteous Liberty, To gladden all our skies! And God be praised for those who died, Whate’er their clime or breed, Who, fighting bravely side by side, A world from thraldom freed! And God be praised for those who, spite Of woundings sore and deep, Survive to see the Cause of Right O’er all its barriers sweep! God and the people--This our cry! O, God, thy peace we sing! The peace that comes through victory, And dwells where Thou art King. THE HOMECOMING LEROY FOLGE Grief for a brother, an American who was killed in France, brought about the suicide of the author of this poem. The manuscript was found beside his body. The lines were published in THE CHICAGO TRIBUNE. His regiment came home today, But Jim, old Jim, he’s still away. I know, I know, he’s sleeping there Out on the fields of France somewhere. And yet, I stood out in the rain, To watch the boys come home again, Just wishing that it wasn’t true, And that Jim would be coming, too. Yet, all the while, I knew, I knew-- Old Jim, he’s gone. They tell me how He fell against the Huns, and now, He’s gained a sort of dignity That somehow seems could never be; For Jim, he was so gay and free, With never a thought of greater weight Than just to keep an evening date, Or get some cigarets, perhaps, Or shoot a game or two of craps, Or dance all night, then drive all day His roadster down the speeding way. But, now, Jim’s gone, the folks will say, He was a wonder in his day. Old Jim--he wasn’t old, you know-- I say that for I love him so-- Grew up with me, and he and I Would never let a day go by That I did not see some plan begun In which we both would have some fun. And then, there comes that fateful day, When our men go to join the fray; And Jim can go, but I must stay. “Good-by, old top, if I’m not dead, I’ll give the Kaiser hell,” he said. I think he meant it, but--. Oh, well, He didn’t give the Kaiser hell. Folks always said that Jim was light, And stayed out much too late at night, Frivolous and never would, Whatever else he did, make good.