Page 23 - 1917 May - To Dragma

230 TO DRAG MA OF ALPHA OMICRON PI TO DRAG MA OF ALPHA OMICRON PI 231

POEMS Aon

B Y J O Y C E C H E N E Y , r , '19. O h ! it's never bein' lonely,
A n ' your heart is singin' glad,
(The author of these verses, though but a sophomore, has already met with An' your troubles die from hunger,
acceptance by the editors of several current magazines.)
For ya dinna dare be sad.
CHARITY
O h ! it's puttin' in a handshake
One hundred thousand battle cries More than in a well-sized book;
Red clouds of blood dust o'er the town.
A victor o'er a shrinking head A n ' you find a bit o' heaven
Has checked his sabre sweeping down. I n each tone o' voice an' look.

Some whispered " C h a r i t y . " Oh! it's livin' an' it's knowin'
T h a t someone cares you live
One woman left a woman's group, Oh, it's sharin' more than givin'
A silence that was loud, the while
H e r eyes turned toward the leader's face. A n d i t isn't what you give!
B u t she has h i d the l i t t l e smile,

A n d that is Charity!

T H E RED ROSE

A blind King owned a garden fair
A n d chanced to pluck one day
A flower that pricked his soft, white hand
He flung the bloom away,
" A h why didst that?" the Jester cried
" 'Twas but a thistle—Fool.
Besides it pricked me. Say no more
Come, jest, draw nigh thy stool."
T h e Fool moved not nor was there jest
From out his queer lips born,
" T h e flower was not a thistle, L o r d ,
But red rose w i t h its thorn."
"Find it at once," the K i n g hath cried,
The wise Fool shook his head,
" Y o u crushed the flower beyond repair,
T h e rose, milord, is dead."