"Through this red sea our God hath made the pathway safe to shore;

Our promised land stands full in sight; shout now as ne'er before!"

And as the tower came crushing down, the bells, in

clear accord,

Pealed forth the grand old German hymn,

souls, praise the Lord!”

"All good

THE SOWER.

I SAW a Sower walking slow
Across the earth, from east to west;
His hair was white as mountain snow,
His head drooped forward on his breast.

With shrivelled hands he flung his seed,
Nor ever turned to look behind;
Of sight or sound he took no heed;

It seemed he was both deaf and blind.

His dim face showed no soul beneath,

Yet in my heart I felt a stir,

As if I looked upon the sheath
That once had clasped Excalibur.

I heard, as still the seed he cast, How, crooning to himself, he sung, — "I sow again the holy Past,

The happy days when I was young.

"Then all was wheat without a tare,
Then all was righteous, fair, and true;
And I am he whose thoughtful care
Shall plant the Old World in the New.

"The fruitful germs I scatter free,
With busy hand, while all men sleep;
In Europe now, from sea to sea,
The nations bless me as they reap.”

Then I looked back along his path,

And heard the clash of steel on steel, Where man faced man, in deadly wrath, While clanged the tocsin's hurrying peal.

The sky with burning towns flared red, · Nearer the noise of fighting rolled,

And brothers' blood, by brothers shed, Crept, curdling, over pavements cold.

Then marked I how each germ of truth Which through the dotard's fingers ran Was mated with a dragon's tooth, Whence there sprang up an armed man.

I shouted, but he could not hear;

Made signs, but these he could not see; And still, without a doubt or fear, Broadcast he scattered anarchy.

Long to my straining ears the blast

Brought faintly back the words he sung:

"I sow again the holy Past,

The happy days when I was young."

HUNGER AND COLD.

SISTERS two, all praise to you,
With your faces pinched and blue;

To the poor man you 've been true

From of old :

You can speak the keenest word,

You are sure of being heard,

From the point you 're never stirred, Hunger and Cold!

Let sleek statesmen temporize;

Palsied are their shifts and lies

When they meet your bloodshot eyes,

Grim and bold;