without a tail?" And still in the honest working world, With posture and hint and smirk, These sons of the devil are standing by While Man does all the work. They balk endeavor and baffle reform, In the sacred name of law; And over the quavering voice of Hem Is the droning voice of Haw. ACCIDENT IN ART. That painter has not with a careless smutch Accomplished his despair?--one touch revealing All he had put of life, thought, vigor, feeling, Into the canvas that without that touch Showed of his love and labor just so much Raw pigment, scarce a scrap of soul concealing! What poet has not found his spirit kneeling A sudden at the sound of such or such Strange verses staring from his manuscript, Written he knows not how, but which will sound Like trumpets down the years? So Accident Itself unmasks the likeness of Intent, And ever in blind Chance's darkest crypt The shrine-lamp of God's purposing is found. IN A GARDEN. Thought is a garden wide and old For airy creatures to explore, Where grow the great fantastic flowers With truth for honey at the core. There like a wild marauding bee Made desperate by hungry fears, From gorgeous If to dark Perhaps I blunder down the dusk of years. AT THE END OF THE DAY. There is no escape by the river, There is no flight left by the fen; We are compassed about by the shiver Of the night of their marching men. Give a cheer! For our hearts shall not give way. Here's to a dark to-morrow, And here's to a brave to-day! The tale of their hosts is countless, And the tale of ours a score; But the palm is naught to the dauntless, And the cause is more and more. Give a cheer! We may die, but not give way. Here's to a silent morrow, And here's to a stout to-day! God has said: "Ye shall fail and perish; But the thrill ye have felt to-night I shall keep in my heart and cherish When the worlds have passed in night." Give a cheer! For the soul shall not give way. Here's to the greater to-morrow That is born of a great to-day! Now shame on the craven truckler And the puling things that mope! We've a rapture for our buckler That outwears the wings of hope. Give a cheer! For our joy shall not give way. Here's in the teeth of to-morrow To the glory of to-day!