So, kindred forever, And closer than ever Two neighboring continents lie: Their children are one, A new era begun, That's watched with a world-sweeping eye. A BALLAD OF EUGENICS “Our modern monogamous family represents the survival of religious, ethical, economic, and legal elements from all the intermingling streams which unite to form civilization.”—_Edward Devins._ A mighty stream runs past my house, Right through my grounds it flows; From unseen springs it comes, and then To unseen springs it goes. And rich deposits in my fields It brings from distant lands, The welcome wealth of mingled streams That rose from blended sands. But oftentimes a drifting wreck It carries to my door, And I must hold it, I who see, To check it evermore; Lest some one farther down the stream Whose face I cannot see Might snag his craft and perish there, And dying, censure me. Not lightly can I turn its way Aside from channels old, Yet I can change the shores I own, Thus much can be controlled. And all that marks my lifetime's goal Is that its onward flow Down past my house and through my lands May ever purer grow. IMMORTALITY [Suggested by the death of a young girl.] The white, soft robes that cling About her tender form and young Have caught earth's last faint breeze And flutter in the earliest breath Of God's new-dawning day, Revealing on the topmost step The slender foot that rests Upon the threshold she shall cross, And baring the young arm That mothered infant Hope. And in her dreaming eyes so mild, That glance a moment down To where her loved ones longing dwell, There lives no hungering regret; For on the doorway latch there rests The fragile hand so pale; It moves, the door swings softly now, The sweet soul enters in, While one long ray of light falls through And filters down to earth. SONNET TO NEMESIS, GODDESS OF REMORSE O Nemesis, thou goddess born of Night, Thou younger sister of stern Death and Sleep, Close-couched art thou with those grim Three who keep The spun and measured threads of life aright; O Nemesis, that shuns each form of light, By night o'er all the world thy glance doth sweep To seek out crime, its penalty to reap When rosy dawn has put the stars to flight. Thy fateful voice rings dread from age to age, Oft times as baying dog or hooting owl; And clear upon thy all-recording page Is writ each deed e'er done with purpose foul. Not even can thy brother Death assuage Thy pangs, Remorse, more dread than Cerberus' growl. THOUGHTS OF GOD Whoever the God that has called me to light, Has willed that my soul should have faith in His might: God is our fountain-head, God is our source, From Him and to Him we follow our course; Wavering, some of us, some ever bold, All of us coming at last to His fold.