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                  POT'1V[S
                Victory
          GLENN WARD DRESBACH
    Sick of the silent fray he stood at night
    Beside the star-watched window of his room,
    And all about hint through the restless gloom
    Glowed other windows and the city's light.
    He sighed, 'Ho-w poor, how endless is the fight,
    How cold the victor's sleep within the tomb!
    And yet I long to rout the hosts of Doom,
    And ziin the silent fray with silent mnight."
    And as he stood beside the window there,
    Unto his weary soul spoke low a voice
    Soft as the song of some wild woodland elf,
    "Ah, slow the fight, but you are fighting fair.
    Go, seek your fields of conquest, and rejoice
    When you have won the battle with Yourself"
    Japanese Temple Bell
            SHIGEYOSHI OBATA
Cavern of AMelancholy so profound,
Out of thy hollow never laughters leap
To light, but issues an unearthly sound,
That tremnbling penetrates the moonless deep
Of night, and wakes to tears sick hearts that sleep.
Over the watery waste and barren ground
Thy low prolonged vibrations seem to creep,
And on, on, seek the earth's remotest bound.
What ancient witchcries in thee betrayed!
Thy rusted breast were yet a mystery!
Dim as the heavings of a distant sea,
Faint as the pulses of a dying maid,
Thy utterances wane, but never fade,
Till wailings fill the vast eternity.