Classic Poem

( LIGHTED NOVEMBER , 1918)

I

I N the far days before the time
When Science, with a newer rhyme,
Sang through cold wires her wondrous song,
Till scattered lands became a throng,
What swifter messenger of joy
Could eager Liberty employ
To herald man's supreme desire
Than the eternal word of fire?
Hill spoke to hill with flaming voice
And summoned Sorrow to rejoice.

II

But when did fire more fitly speak
Than when from peak to castled peak
The tocsin told to Italy
That all her lands at last were free?
Forgotten then the loss, the tears.
The havoc, of a hundred years;
Remembered only was the date
Of a new world emancipate.
The kindled beacon's leaping voice
Cried to the land, " Rejoice, rejoice! "

III

Look in the synonyms of Fame
For " fire " — 'tis Italy's other name,
Her mother Beauty was; her sire
Life-giving, free, effulgent Fire.
No laggard among nations she;
No heir of some great role to be;
But princely comrade on the way
That leads us to the better day.
How could we spare that valiant voice
That cries, " Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice! "

IV

O fires of Alp and Appenine,
Relight each year the day divine
When Justice put her sword aside
As Earth took Peace to be her bride.
Land not more beautiful than brave,
Thou who wouldst conquer but to save,
Refuge and comforter of yore,
Bind up the grievous wounds of war,
And cry with thine appointed voice
" Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice, rejoice! "