Once I loved a fairy, Queen Mab it was. Her voice Was like a little Fountain That bids the birds rejoice. Her face was wise and solemn,

Down, down beneath the daisy beds, O hear the cries of pain! And moaning on the cinder-path They’re blind amid the rain. Can murmurs of the worms arise

(A Poem Game.) “And when the Queen of Sheba hear… [The men’s leader rises as he sees… Men’s Leader: The Queen of Sh… [He bows three times.]

I. THE DOLL UPON TH… This doll upon the topmost bough, This playmate-gift, in Christmas… Was taken down and brought to me One sleety night most comfortless.

Would I might wake in you the whi… Of Michelangelo, who hewed the st… And Night and Day revealed, whose… Could draw the face of God, the t… Whose genius smote like lightning…

[In memory of E. S. Frazee, R… Into the acres of the newborn stat… He poured his strength, and plowed… And, when the traders followed him… Towering above their furtive souls…

They say one king is mad. Perhaps… They say one king is doddering and… They say one king is slack and sic… A puppet for hid strings that twit… Is Europe then to be their sprawl…

And must the Senator from Illinoi… Be this squat thing, with blinking… This brazen gutter idol, reared to… Upon a leering pyramid of lies? And must the Senator from Illinoi…

The whole world on a raft! A King… The record of his grandeur but a s… Is it his deacon-beard, or old bal… That makes the band upon his whims… Loot and mud-honey have his soul d…

I. THEIR BASIC SAVAGER… Fat black bucks in a wine-barrel r… Barrel-house kings, with feet unst… Sagged and reeled and pounded on t… A deep rolling bass.

Last night at black midnight I wo… The windows were shaking, there wa… The floor was a-tremble, the door… White fires, crimson fires, shone… I rushed to the door yard. The ci…

A chant to which it is intended a… A master deep-eyed Ere his manhood was ripe, He sang like a thrush, He could play any pipe.

“Bring me soft song,” said Aladdi… “This tailor-shop sings not at all… Chant me a word of the twilight, Of roses that mourn in the fall. Bring me a song like hashish

O dandelion, rich and haughty, King of village flowers! Each day is coronation time, You have no humble hours. I like to see you bring a troop