CONTENTS.
| PAGE. | ||
| I. | The Race of the Mighty | [1] |
| II. | Songs & Sonnets. | |
| Love Beatified | [9] | |
| Morning, Noon and Night | [10] | |
| Dante | [11] | |
| Love’s Blindness | [12] | |
| Hesperides | [13] | |
| My Garden | [18] | |
| Erinnerungen | [19] | |
| The Battle Royal | [20] | |
| España | [21] | |
| Love’s Fear | [22] | |
| Longings | [23] | |
| Horace, IV, 8 | [24] | |
| Ricordatevi Di Me! | [26] | |
| The Tower | [28] | |
| Love’s Prayer | [30] | |
| Combien J’ai Douce Souvenance | [31] | |
| My Little Red Devil and I | [33] | |
| The College Pump | [37] | |
| I Disputanti | [38] | |
| Quand Vous Serez Bien Vieille | [39] | |
| One Summer Night | [40] | |
| A Une Fleurette | [42] | |
| Blest Be the Day | [43] | |
| Mignonne Allons Voir Si La Rose | [44] | |
| Religion | [45] | |
| The Great Woods Were Awakening | [46] | |
| I-N-R-I | [47] | |
| Fayre Robyn | [48] | |
| Coeur de Femme | [51] | |
| III. | Ballades & Rondeaux | |
| Ballade of the Sick | [54] | |
| Three Rondeaux from Charles d’Orléans | [56] | |
| The Song of the Poor | [59] | |
| Kyrielle | [62] | |
| Rondeau | [64] | |
| When I First Saw Edmée | [65] | |
| My Old Coat | [66] | |
| A Pantoum | [68] | |
| When Doris Deigns | [70] | |
| IV. | The Year | |
| Spring—May Evening | [72] | |
| Summer—August Rain | [73] | |
| Autumn—November in Cambridge | [74] | |
| Winter—Hampton Holidays | [75] | |
| V. | Mors Omnium Victor | |
| Gunga Din in Hell | [78] | |
| Cui Bono? | [79] | |
| The Bride-Bed | [80] | |
| Dead Loves | [81] | |
| Death the Friend | [82] | |
| La Jeune Fille | [83] | |
| Lucie | [84] | |
| Luctus in Morte Passeris | [89] | |
| Death in December | [90] | |
| The Royal Council | [92] | |
| Carmen Mortis | [93] |
THE RACE OF THE MIGHTY
The Race of the Mighty[A]
THE START
THE appointed time at length the dials show.
“Attention, both!... Now, are you ready?... Go!!”
The chauffeur grips his lever with a hand
Of steel.—A leap!—A flash of wheels! A grand
And supple beast-like spring!—A growl of gear!
As, sweeping through the multitudinous sea
Of men upraising full-voiced cheer on cheer,
He whirls away to promised victory!...
ON THE ROAD
The high road stretches straight and white
Away
To dreamy distance, on and on—
The day
Dawns sharp and foggy; nips the driver’s
Nose,
Despite his costly furs. Zounds! How
It blows!
The motor purrs!—Our mobile seems
To fly,
Nor touch the ground... (Pneumatic
Mystery!)
The motor purrs!—Farewell wood, field
And stream!
Once on the road, we’ve scanty time
To dream!
The motor purrs!—Look out! A sheer
Decline.
Temptation whispers: Faster here!
It’s fine!
Faster? It’s madness! Yes, I know!—
But on!
Full speed down hill! Another record
Gone!...
The driver plunges out of view...
See, there
He climbs the distant slope again.
I swear
He’d scale Olympus! Yet that course
Is clear
From many mishaps that beset
Us here!
We crush a curséd mongrel in
The dust!
Slow down to miss an English spinster,
Just
Graze by her on her clumsy, ancient
Wheel!—
Rout ducks and chickens, set the pigs
A-squeal!
It’s not our fault! We can’t be kept
All day
To clear the road!... Speed on!—Away!
Away!...
THE STRUGGLE
But hark!... Behind, a trumpet-blast winds clear!
Great God! Our dread competitor draws near;
We’d half a minute start, and now, like Fate,
He’s rushing onward to annihilate
Distance and time, whirled in a hurricane!
Inexorably we see him gain and gain....
“Now!—speed her up!” the boy cries out. “More speed!”
“The curséd motor’s gone to sleep!—Indeed,
“We’re hardly doing fifty miles an hour.
“But he won’t pass us yet awhile! More power!”...
The driver heeds; he moves—the furious pace
Grows frenzied! Oh, the glory of a race
Like this of modern days, with steady hand
To steer a whirlwind through a startled land!
THE WATCHERS
“The first is near!—Let no one cross!—Take care!
“See! There they are!—Look out! The horn! Beware!
“Stand back!—They’re two!... It’s Girardot! No, no;
“It’s Charron! No, it’s Levegh!—How they blow
“That horn!”... But who can hope to recognize
Or name the shrilling bullet in its flight?
And what are names when glory blinds the eyes?
The towns love sport, and cheer; but, half in fright
The laboring peasants stop their ploughs to see
This avalanche—this hurtling mystery!
THE FINISH
Untiring, on their mounts of fire and steel,
The shielded chauffeurs, watchful, hand on wheel,
Have flashed through many a league;—have breathed the dust
Of devious ways; have skirted wood and sea;
Have traversed towns, crossed rivers, hills and dales;—
Nor halted once! To learn geography
By such vast lessons, though it tire the flesh,
Exalts the soul and makes the spirit free.
But now must end this vast, Titanic race!
(It cannot last forever!)—See! The place
Lies there!... A broad, white banner bars the way,
Between two lofty poles with streamers gay.
The “FINISH” there we read. The end at last!
All rest and glory, once that goal is passed!
A final burst!—The driver grips the bar!
The “FINISH!” In the road he sees afar
A judge with solemn air attentive stand,
Waving a crimson kerchief in his hand...
“Stop!” Harshly grinds the brake—“What number’s this?”
“Your name?”
Recorded!
Apotheosis!!