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Upon some whispering silvery line
He yet resolves to speak aright。
II。 John Bunny； Motion Picture Comedian
In which he is remembered in similitude； by reference to Yorick；
the king's jester； who died when Hamlet and Ophelia were children。
Yorick is dead。 Boy Hamlet walks forlorn
Beneath the battlements of Elsinore。
Where are those oddities and capers now
That used to 〃set the table on a roar〃？
And do his bauble…bells beyond the clouds
Ring out； and shake with mirth the planets bright？
No doubt he brings the blessed dead good cheer；
But silence broods on Elsinore tonight。
That little elf； Ophelia； eight years old；
Upon her battered doll's staunch bosom weeps。
（〃O best of men； that wove glad fairy…tales。〃）
With tear…burned face； at last the darling sleeps。
Hamlet himself could not give cheer or help；
Though firm and brave； with his boy…face controlled。
For every game they started out to play
Yorick invented； in the days of old。
The times are out of joint！ O cursed spite！
The noble jester Yorick comes no more。
And Hamlet hides his tears in boyish pride
By some lone turret…stair of Elsinore。
Mae Marsh； Motion Picture Actress
In 〃Man's Genesis〃； 〃The Wild Girl of the Sierras〃； 〃The Wharf Rat〃；
〃A Girl of the Paris Streets〃； etc。
I
The arts are old； old as the stones
From which man carved the sphinx austere。
Deep are the days the old arts bring：
Ten thousand years of yesteryear。
II
She is madonna in an art
As wild and young as her sweet eyes：
A frail dew flower from this hot lamp
That is today's divine surprise。
Despite raw lights and gloating mobs
She is not seared： a picture still：
Rare silk the fine director's hand
May weave for magic if he will。
When ancient films have crumbled like
Papyrus rolls of Egypt's day；
Let the dust speak： 〃Her pride was high；
All but the artist hid away：
〃Kin to the myriad artist clan
Since time began； whose work is dear。〃
The deep new ages come with her；
Tomorrow's years of yesteryear。
Two Old Crows
Two old crows sat on a fence rail；
Two old crows sat on a fence rail；
Thinking of effect and cause；
Of weeds and flowers；
And nature's laws。
One of them muttered； one of them stuttered；
One of them stuttered； one of them muttered。
Each of them thought far more than he uttered。
One crow asked the other crow a riddle。
One crow asked the other crow a riddle：
The muttering crow
Asked the stuttering crow；
〃Why does a bee have a sword to his fiddle？
Why does a bee have a sword to his fiddle？〃
〃Bee…cause；〃 said the other crow；
〃Bee…cause；
B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B…cause。〃
Just then a bee flew close to their rail：
〃Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ZZZZZZZZ。〃
And those two black crows
Turned pale；
And away those crows did sail。
Why？
B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B…cause。
B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B B…cause。
〃Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz ZZZZZZZ。〃
The Drunkard's Funeral
〃Yes；〃 said the sister with the little pinched face；
The busy little sister with the funny little tract：
〃This is the climax； the grand fifth act。
There rides the proud； at the finish of his race。
There goes the hearse； the mourners cry；
The respectable hearse goes slowly by。
The wife of the dead has money in her purse；
The children are in health； so it might have been worse。
That fellow in the coffin led a life most foul。
A fierce defender of the red bar…tender；
At the church he would rail；
At the preacher he would howl。
He planted every deviltry to see it grow。
He wasted half his income on the lewd and the low。
He would trade engender for the red bar…tender；
He would homage render to the red bar…tender；
And in ultimate surrender to the red bar…tender；
He died of the tremens； as crazy as a loon；
And his friends were glad； when the end came soon。
There goes the hearse； the mourners cry；
The respectable hearse goes slowly by。
And now； good friends； since you see how it ends；
Let each nation…mender flay the red bar…tender；
Abhor
The transgression
Of the red bar…tender；
Ruin
The profession
Of the red bar…tender：
Force him into business where his work does good。
Let him learn how to plough； let him learn to chop wood；
Let him learn how to plough； let him learn to chop wood。
〃The moral；
The conclusion；
The verdict now you know：
‘The saloon must go；
The saloon must go；
The saloon；
The saloon；
The saloon；
Must go。'〃
〃You are right； little sister；〃 I said to myself；
〃You are right； good sister；〃 I said。
〃Though you wear a mussy bonnet
On your little gray head；
You are right； little sister；〃 I said。
The Raft
The whole world on a raft！ A King is here；
The record of his grandeur but a smear。
Is it his deacon…beard； or old bald pate
That makes the band upon his whims to wait？
Loot and mud…honey have his soul defiled。
Quack； pig； and priest； he drives camp…meetings wild
Until they shower their pennies like spring rain
That he may preach upon the Spanish main。
What landlord； lawyer； voodoo…man has yet
A better native right to make men sweat？
The whole world on a raft！ A Duke is here
At sight of whose lank jaw the muses leer。
Journeyman…printer； lamb with ferret eyes；
In life's skullduggery he takes the prize
Yet stands at twilight wrapped in Hamlet dreams。
Into his eyes the Mississippi gleams。
The sandbar sings in moonlit veils of foam。
A candle shines from one lone cabin home。
The waves reflect it like a drunken star。
A banjo and a hymn are heard afar。
No solace on the lazy shore excels
The Duke's blue castle with its steamer…bells。
The floor is running water； and the roof
The stars' brocade with cloudy warp and woof。
And on past sorghum fields the current swings。
To Christian Jim the Mississippi sings。
This prankish wave…swept barque has won its place；
A ship of jesting for the human race。
But do you laugh when Jim bows down forlorn
His babe； his deaf Elizabeth to mourn？
And do you laugh； when Jim； from Huck apart
Gropes through the rain and night with breaking heart？
But now that imp is here and we can smile；
Jim's child and guardian this long…drawn while。
With knife and heavy gun； a hunter keen；
He stops for squirrel…meat in islands green。
The eternal gamin； sleeping half the day；
Then stripped and sleek； a river…fish at play。
And then well…dressed； ashore； he sees life spilt。
The river…bank is one bright crazy…quilt
Of patch…work dream； of wrath more red than lust；
Where long…haired feudist Hotspurs bite the dust 。 。 。
This Huckleberry Finn is but the race；
America； still lovely in disgrace；
New childhood of the world； that blunders on
And wonders at the darkness and the dawn；