Her father had perished long ago, But the lady held her pride. She walked with a scornful step and slow, Till at last in her rags she died. Yet still on the crumbling piers of the town, When the midnight moon shines free, A woman walks in a velvet gown And scatters corn in the sea. FLOOD-TIDE OF FLOWERS IN HOLLAND The laggard winter ebbed so slow With freezing rain and melting snow, It seemed as if the earth would stay Forever where the tide was low, In sodden green and watery gray. But now from depths beyond our sight, The tide is turning in the night, And floods of color long concealed Come silent rising toward the light, Through garden bare and empty field. And first, along the sheltered nooks, The crocus runs in little brooks Of joyance, till by light made bold They show the gladness of their looks In shining pools of white and gold. The tiny scilla, sapphire blue, Is gently sweeping in, to strew The earth with heaven; and sudden rills Of sunlit yellow, sweeping through, Spread into lakes of daffodils. The hyacinths, with fragrant heads, Have overflowed their sandy beds, And fill the earth with faint perfume, The breath that Spring around her sheds. And now the tulips break in bloom! A sea, a rainbow-tinted sea, A splendor and a mystery, Floods o'er the fields of faded gray: The roads are full of folks in glee, For lo,--to-day is Easter Day! April, 1916. ENTER AMERICA AMERICA'S PROSPERITY They tell me thou art rich, my country: gold In glittering flood has poured into thy chest; Thy flocks and herds increase, thy barns are pressed With harvest, and thy stores can hardly hold Their merchandise; unending trains are rolled Along thy network rails of East and West; Thy factories and forges never rest; Thou art enriched in all things bought and sold! But dost _thou_ prosper? Better news I crave. O dearest country, is it well with thee Indeed, and is thy soul in health? A nobler people, hearts more wisely brave, And thoughts that lift men up and make them free.-- These are prosperity and vital wealth! The Hague, October 1, 1916. THE GLORY OF SHIPS The glory of ships is an old, old song, since the days when the sea-rovers ran In their open boats through the roaring surf, and the spread of the world began; The glory of ships is a light on the sea, and a star in the story of man. When Homer sang of the galleys of Greece that conquered the Trojan shore, And Solomon lauded the barks of Tyre that brought great wealth to his door, 'Twas little they knew, those ancient men, what would come of the sail and the oar.