By EDITH M. THOMAS.
_... "A house with sealed doors, where a family of 7,000,000
sits in silence around a cheerless hearth.... America opened
the window ... and slipped a loaf of bread into the
larder."--Frederick Palmer, in_ THE NEW YORK TIMES.
Merchant ships many are on the main.
This that we send plies not for gain--
Ship of the loaves! May her course be straight,
When the starving millions her coming wait!
In a "Happy Province" beyond the sea
("Happy" by fiat--a monarch's decree!)
They have seized their lands, they have taken their stores,
They have shut them up, they have sealed the doors!
The folk within--their table is bare.
But why should the lords of the "Province" care?--
Myrmidons, myrmidons, first to feed;
Afterwards think of the people's need.
Let the arm'd men eat, let the people wait,
(Say the lords of the "Province" who parcel out fate,)
Let the arm'd men feed--that their strength endure,
That their hearts be lusty, their grasp be sure!
In that "Happy Province" beyond the sea
They are not bond and they are not free:
In silence they sit by their smoldered hearth;
But the winds bear their burden around the earth!
The winds and the waters are rolling along
The rune of their sorrow (too cruel for song!) ...
Bring food for the family robbed of its stores;
Open a window where sealed are the doors!
Merchant ships many are on the main.
This that we send plies not for gain--
Ship of the loaves!... Ye have given them lead,
Ye lords of the "Province," but we give bread!