. At early candle light and other poems. another with almost unbelievable r; ople were tonvened in their vari to decide whether there shall be p mats had decided for them. No, Dte the war credits. Can you wc eked to its respective national stanc ; the native land was being invade ^thing in press censorship that com] en at this time the British White irly in Germany, nor the German V •uld the people be expected to lets and armor are not made ••mps and books and laboratories zation and of peace; they are ma ne of those who are particularl /ho is in the last instance to b< ar of fear was the i
. At early candle light and other poems. another with almost unbelievable r; ople were tonvened in their vari to decide whether there shall be p mats had decided for them. No, Dte the war credits. Can you wc eked to its respective national stanc ; the native land was being invade ^thing in press censorship that com] en at this time the British White irly in Germany, nor the German V •uld the people be expected to lets and armor are not made ••mps and books and laboratories zation and of peace; they are ma ne of those who are particularl /ho is in the last instance to b< ar of fear was the inevitable rej .naments which we have witnesse Every nation forgot that, howe-v additional defenses merely as i nething to be used in the event oi -and rather naturally so—with nations. Granted that France d °rvice period to tJiree years mei any saw in it a challenge to nposed her huge war tax me France, remembering Alsace s a scheme for German agg those in our own country vy for purely defensive one nation only. They KNEE DEEP. call Knee deep, knee deep,to-night in the marsh below,Down by the bank where the rank sword-grasses and calamus grow ;They are the toilers who make the bells for the winter keeping time to a rhyme theywork thro the summer nights,While up from the swampy forge the sparks of the fire-flies riseOer the pool where wading lilies make love, thro half-shut eyes,To the whippoorwill, who scolds like a shrew at the fluffy the night-hawk shuffles by, like a monk in avelvet cowl, 9 lo KNEE DEEP And the bat weaves inky weft thro the white star-beams that peepDown thro the cypress boughs, where the frogs all sing Knee deep. Strange that the spell of a song should summon a man like meBack thro the bygone years to the scenes that used to be,When earth was hid from heaven by one rose-hedge, and throughThis bourne the blessed angels looked, and asphodel odors blew;Strange the invisible choir, deep hid in the swaying sedge,Should woo my mind
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