Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 139 June to November 1919 . te discontent anddisaffection among those who should bestrongly constructive. This is no timeto split up anything, unless it is activelydestructive. Hold together, and changedirection where it is necessary. But holdtogether. And gather in more where youcan. Work for more understanding,more sympathy, more common effort fora common good. A Summer Song BY CLINTON SCOLLARD THE winds of morning are like lyres;Now flame and flare the poppy firesThe garden ways along,And the sequestered forest choirsAre rapturous with song. The drowsy b
Harper's New Monthly Magazine Volume 139 June to November 1919 . te discontent anddisaffection among those who should bestrongly constructive. This is no timeto split up anything, unless it is activelydestructive. Hold together, and changedirection where it is necessary. But holdtogether. And gather in more where youcan. Work for more understanding,more sympathy, more common effort fora common good. A Summer Song BY CLINTON SCOLLARD THE winds of morning are like lyres;Now flame and flare the poppy firesThe garden ways along,And the sequestered forest choirsAre rapturous with song. The drowsy burden of the beeIs like a honeyed harmony, And till dark claims its ownThe crickets will chirr ceaselessly In rhythmic monotone. Then, with the falling of the dusk,The scent of mignonette and musk Will all the air enshroud,And the new moon will slip its husk Of sailing silver cloud. And in the glamour of its lightYou, clad in draperies of white, As fair as those above,Will steal adown the paths of night To keep a tryst with Love. 44 issin BY MRS. HENRY DUDENEY. HEN all your life youhave been a shepherdand then they turn youinto a soldier! You see strangelands; you arem§£!M£$k^M wounded, imprisoned,hunted; you get away at last; and youcome home. You are here, standing onthe top of the hills—these gracious greengiants that all your life made yourboundaries; were your girdle; hemmedyou in. The misty blue nose of Firle Beacon,suddenly appearing as he crowned aridge, made him understand how he hadfretted for these hills in a strange land. He was thinking about this as he wentalong, walking high, with the arable landand the little villages far below. It wasa wonderful walk \ hat he was taking, forhe was still weak, bewildered, and halfstarved, so that nothing seemed quitereal and he was ready for anything. He would have a lot to tell wouldnt believe half. There werethings that he did not expect her to be-lieve, and other things that he did notwant to tell her—horribl
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