“AS WE FORGIVE.”[B]
On Belgic dunes the sun is gayly shining
And little children can forget—and play;
A jolly band with smiles and arms entwining
Are running through the sands and lose their way.
They stop their frolicking and rather weary
They chance upon a road where, looking round,
They see the perfect Son of gentle Mary
Resigned upon His cross though pierced and bound.
At His dear feet, in prayer, they closely snuggle
And chant the words of Him they all adore,
But “trespasses” reminding them, they struggle
To finish, hesitate, can say no more.
A step is heard, a presence felt that captures
The stammered words, and firmly all repeat
The Pater Noster to its end. What raptures!
Their hero King! they see and humbly greet.
[B] Suggested by a pretty story of King Albert that has filtered through from martyred Belgium.
THE CREW.
O’er the moving waters of the Horicon[C]
Comes a gentle breeze,
Throwing kisses to its ripples,
Flirting with the trees,
Blowing whiffs of scented clover,
Whiffs of sweetest peas.
On the moving waters of the Horicon
Comes a red canoe,
Bearing Cupid, with an arrow
Pointed at the crew,
Sharing youthful dreams together,
In that red canoe!