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Adler, Philip A. (ed.) / The Wisconsin literary magazine
Volume XVI, Number 4 (January 1917)

Gesler, Clifford F.; et al.
Verse,   pp. 117-118


Page 117

WISCONSIN LITERARY MAGAZINE
Verse
SONS OF THE NORTH.
("Thy Beauty is Bugle and Banner
Sons of the North, fare forth
Over the stern-souled sea!
Strain the seams of the swelling sail
Into the bared white teeth of the gale!
Six score shields on the oaken wale,
Six score hearts that will die ere fail;
Sons of the North, fare far, fare forth
With a song, with a song of the sea!
Sons of the North, fare forth
Over the sobbing sea!
Sing to the sweep of the ashen oar,
Though the song ring sad on the rocky shore;
Though many there sing that soon no more
With a shout shall answer the ocean's roar,
Sons of the North, fare far, fare forth,
Singing a song of the sea!
Sons of the North, fare forth
Over the strong-souled sea!
Fleet be the flight on the foam-flecked track!
Fierce be the fight in the rimy wrack!
There lies the life that here we lack;
We have set the sail, and we turn not back.
Sons of the North, fare far, fare forth
To the strong, sad song of the sea!
CLIFFORD F. GESLER.
CHERE PETITE
Your voice like the note of a fairy bird
Came drifting, chere petite,
And a bit of the star-dust lightly stirred
To the touch of your dancing feet;
And you swayed, for a moment, the moonlit air,
But ah! you left no footprints there
Chere petite m6chante!
Oh, the faint glad gleam of your fairy smile
Enchants me, chere petite!
And the moonlight plays yet a little while
On the dream-shore where we meet;
But the fondest of fairy friends must part,
And you leave no footprint on my heart
Chere petite mechante!
CLIFFORD F. GESLER.
THE MOUSE SPEAKS.
I scarce can see your eyes beneath your lashes-
You drop them, coy, and shy, and most demure;
I only get a bit of blue, in flashes-
You do it all on purpose, I am sure.
I scarce can see your crown of golden tresses,
You hide them in a Quaker bonnet, gray;
Yet now and then a wayward curl confesses
That you are not averse to dance, or play.
I know your tempting lips would take to kisses,
Although you seem to hold them very prim,
For when you smile, or pout, I know that this is
The trick you use to take "the stern sex" in.
You're like a fluffy kitten, cuddly, purring;
But you know a thing or two, for all of that;
And I wonder, when I see your claws a-stirring,
How much is kitten, and how much is-cat.
MARJORIE KINNAN.
LYRICS IN ELIZABETHAN MODE
I. CAVALIER SONG.
Bind paynim jewels about thy head,
Emerald and dull chalced,
And ruby red.
Twine sweet flowers in thy hair,
Lily and violet fair,
And musk-rose rare.
Deck thy limbs in silks that cling,
Rich-hued like peacock's wing,
In early spring.
Yet rarest jewels and flowers grow small,
Thine eyes their splendor pall,
Thy beauty's all. .
II. APRIL RAIN.
Come, loose your hair-come, come!
The rain falls from the April sky.
Come, come, together we will fly
Full in the drip, in the splash, in the shower.
PERCY SHOSTOC.
January, 1917
117


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