Classic Poem

Adds to His Misrepresentative Men , a Picture of J. M. Barrie.

This is an ever-changing world
(A truth that needs but small adorning),
Our last night's standards all are furled,
New banners bear new truths this morning.
And, far from foolish jest, the fact is
Today's fad is to-morrow's practice.

Shaw rules the hour; the callow cub
Stirring his toddy with a lemon in
Is haunted even at the club
By visions of the Shavian feminine.
The sweeper, with an accent foreign,
Is (pro and) conning Mrs. Warren.

Enough, enough — we gladly turn
And never for a moment tarry
Until we reach that happy bourne
Of childhood beauty built by Barrie.
Where eyes and skies are always blue,
And every dream's a Dream-come-true.

Under his spell we children love
Each frail-spun token of his fancy;
" Believe in fairies? " Heavens above
We all do — save the man who can see
No beauty in each simple tune
Of Peter Pan and Pantaloon.

First, second childhood's faith is his.
Sophists and scholars go and come, he
Proves that each " Little Mary" is
Naught but a " Sentimental Tummy."
And, like the pulse of eager drums,
Our hearts beat at the sound of: " Thrums. "

*****

Master, here at your feet I lay
A witless rhyme, unskilled, but showing
The heart of one who walks your way
And hears " the horns of elfland blowing. "
Who burlesques when he most reveres;
And winks an eye — to hide his tears.