We thought to be proud Of our fawn everywhere. We could hardly see how Simple books were a care. No rule of the school This strange student could tame. He was banished one day, While we quivered with shame. He piped back our love On a moon-silvered night, Enticed us once more To the place of delight. A greeting he sang And it made our blood beat, It tramped upon custom And mocked at defeat. He builded a fire And we tripped in a ring, The embers our books And the fawn our good king. And now we approached All the mysteries rare That shadowed his eyelids And blew through his hair. That spell now was peace The deep strength of the trees, The children of nature We clambered her knees. Our breath and our moods Were in tune with her own, Tremendous her presence, Eternal her throne. The ostracized child Our white foreheads kissed, Our bodies and souls Became lighter than mist. Sweet dresses like snow Our small lady-loves wore, Like moonlight the thoughts That our bosoms upbore. Like a lily the touch Of each cold little hand. The loves of the stars We could now understand. O quivering air! O the crystalline night! O pauses of awe And the faces swan-white! O ferns in the dusk! O forest-shrined hour! O earth that sent upward The thrill and the power, To lift us like leaves, A delirious whirl, The masterful boy And the delicate girl! What child that strange night-time Can ever forget? His fealty due And his infinite debt To the folly divine, To the exquisite rule Of the perilous master, The fawn-footed fool? III Now soldiers we seem, And night brings a new thing, A terrible ire, As of thunder awing. A warrior power, That old chivalry stirred, When knights took up arms, As the maidens gave word. THE END OF OUR WAR, WILL BE GLORY UNTOLD. WHEN THE TOWN LIKE A GREAT BUDDING ROSE SHALL UNFOLD! _Near, nearer that war, And that ecstasy comes, We hear the trees beating Invisible drums. The fields of the night Are starlit above, Our girls are white torches Of conquest and love. No nerve without will, And no breast without breath, We whirl with the planets That never know death!_ The Mysterious Cat A chant for a children's pantomime dance, suggested by a picture painted by George Mather Richards. I saw a proud, mysterious cat, I saw a proud, mysterious cat Too proud to catch a mouse or rat-- Mew, mew, mew. But catnip she would eat, and purr, But catnip she would eat, and purr. And goldfish she did much prefer-- Mew, mew, mew. I saw a cat--'twas but a dream, I saw a cat--'twas but a dream Who scorned the slave that brought her cream-- Mew, mew, mew.