Page 48 - 1920 February - To Dragma

TO DRAGMA OF ALPHA OMICRON PI

UNSUNG

I f I might have the gift of my desire,
And wake one day to find my dream fulfilled,
Ah, what a real world from that dream I'd build,

A world that rhymed the pulsing of my lyre!
I'd sing new songs in notes of liquid fire,

Till men should hear the heavenly call, long stilled,
Should grasp again the work their youth had willed,
And see once more the starlight from the mire.

How many dreams like mine the long night knows—
But dawn reveals a broken lyre, crude hands,
Lips sealed and dumb, and dim the visioned gleam.

For me, a sea-gull's flight, the first wild rose,
The crimson sunset glow on desert sands,
These are my joys. At night, I have my dream.

FLORENCE M. SEDER, from The Matri

A SEA GULL ON THE CHICAGO RIVER

A streetcar with its hot and weary load
Clangs rattling o'er the dirty, crowded bridge;
Down on the river's turbid, muddy green
Drifts bits of sodden fruit and grimy scraps,
Remnants of yellow bags and scrolls of scum.
The sun up in the glowering, smoky sky
Woke not a single merry rippling gleam
On that smooth stream, but just a dull, hot glare,
Defiant, sullen with the city's lust.

Then through the murky sky, a flash of white.
White wings that wheeled and soared above the lines
Of dingy scows moored to the ill-kept docks,
Then swooped until their whiteness nearly dipped
Into the lurid waters of that stream.
A shop-girl as the streetcar clatters on,
Shakes her tired head and with a sigh remarks:
"Gee, i f I was a sea gull you can bet
I'd never spend vacations in this burg!"

ADELIN BRIGGS, The Matrix.

MYSELF

By EDGAR A . GUEST

I have to live with myself, and so
I want to be fit for myself to know,
I want to be able as days go by,
Always to look myself straight in the eye.
I don't want to stand with the setting sun,
And hate myself for the things I've done.