SNOW The moon, like a round device The wind has sunk to a sigh, And the waters are stern with frost; And gray, in the eastern sky, White fields, that are winter-starved, THE MAN HUNT1 The woods stretch wild to the mountain side, They have brought the bloodhounds up again They have brought the bloodhounds up, and they 1 Taken by permission from The Vale of Tempe by Madison Cawein. Copyright, 1905, by E. P. Dutton and Co., New York. Three times they circled the trail and crossed, Now straight through the pines and the underbrush They follow the scent through the forest's hush. And their deep-mouthed bay is a pulse of fear In the heart of the wood that the man must hear. The man who crouches among the trees A huddle of rocks that the ooze has mossed- An upturned pebble; a bit of ground And the woods re-echo the bloodhounds' bay A rock; a ribbon of road; a ledge, With a pine-tree clutching its crumbling edge. A pine, that the lightning long since clave, A shout; a curse; and a face aghast, The human quarry, with clay-clogged hair That glares and crouches and rising then Until the blow of a gun-butt lays A rope, a prayer, and an oak-tree near. A grim black thing for the setting sun PENURY Above his misered embers, gnarled and gray, DESERTED The old house leans upon a tree Like some old man upon a staff: Be The heaven is wrapped in flying clouds. The dark is full of whispers. Now A fox-hound howls: and through the night, Bert Leston Taylor Bert Leston Taylor was born at Goshen, Massachusetts, November 13, 1866, and educated at the College of the City of New York. He had been engaged in journalism since 1895, conducting his column "A Line o' Type or Two" in the Chicago Daily News. He was the author of two novels as well as A Line-o'-Verse or Two (1911) and Motley Measures (1913); a pair of delightful light verse collections. Taylor died of pneumonia March 19, 1921. CANOPUS When quacks with pills political would dope us, I like to think about that star Canopus, Greatest of visioned suns, they say who list 'em; Its shell would hold our whole dinged solar system, When temporary chairmen utter speeches, And frenzied henchmen howl their battle hymns, When men are calling names and making faces, And smoke a mild seegar. For after one has had about a week of Conduces to repose. William Vaughn Moody William Vaughn Moody was born at Spencer, Indiana, July 1, 1869, and was educated at Harvard. After graduation, he spent the remaining eighteen years of his life in travel and intensive study-he taught, for eight years, at the University of Chicago-his death coming at the very height of his creative power. The Masque of Judgment, his first work, was published in 1900. A richer and more representative collection appeared the year following; in Poems (1901) Moody effected that mingling of challenging lyricism and spiritual philosophy which becomes more and more insistent. (See Preface.) Throughout his career, and particularly in such lines as the hotly expostulating "On a Soldier Fallen in the Philippines" and the majestic, uncompleted "The Death of Eve," Moody successfully achieves the rare union of poet and preacher. "Gloucester Moors" is an outcry against the few exploiting the many; "The Quarry" and "An Ode in Time of Hesitation" are passionate with prophecy. His last, extended works have an epic quality which, |