"Even as kings have done, through all the ages,             Brave to behold— Fanfare of trumpets, be jeweled and refulgent             And girdled with gold: "Or in a chariot welded of star-dust—             Glittering white— Pause at the cloud-line ’mid crashing of thunder             And blazing of light. "Rolling Thy voice till the Pleiades tremble—             The spheres are amoan; The Earth for a footstool—the outermost planets             Grouped for a throne. “Thus would we see Thee, acclaim Thee; and worship Thee,             Thou in Thy might— Concrete, conglomerate, human and splendid—             Aflame in our sight.” II They who have drunk of the River of Knowledge             Only a quaff, Pity them, Father that know not Thy meaning,             Children who laugh. Atoms that reck not the wherefore of atoms—             Dust of the dust: Groping in darkness, recusant and doubting—             And bearing no trust. They would make mock of Thee, saying the life-spark,             Came not of Thee: Function by function in wonderful unison—             Each mystery. Sunshine and rain-fall and food to their needing,             Air, sea and land: Seed-time and fruit-time and harvest and gleaning—             Made to their hand. They would gainsay Thee by calling it Nature,             Calling it Chance: And by their impotent wonder, Thy glory,             Only enhance. But when in mercy the last word is spoken—             When the gates yawn; Father of Nations—take Thou Thy children             Into the dawn. Crowning Thy marvelous works with a crowning—             Ultimate—vast— Showing compassion and loving they knew not,             E’en to the last. THE GOLDEN DAY. Have ye a day that bears the glare     Of the flaming morning sun? Have ye a day the mind may search,     Weighing what ye have done? Have ye a day ye are satisfied     Will stand the acid test— From the first gray strand of the eastern skies     To the last red glow in the west? Have ye a day ye grappled with     And hurled in mortal throes, When, ’bove the white horizon,     The Great Occasion rose? Mayhap the World bore witness     To the things of your Golden Day: Mayhap it is locked from the gaze of men,     And ye’ve thrown the key away. NOTES NOTES. *Trenches* French Lorraine Lorraine is now French, but, of course, it was not so during the war. Kultur The so-called German culture. *Barb-Wire Posts* Herein is described a common optical illusion or phenomenon seen by all soldiers, old and young, experienced or green, during the long night vigils looking through the wires, across No Man’s Land. Boche A German.