BROTHERS AND SONS.

White Ribbon, Volume 20, Issue 236, 18 February 1915, Page 10

BROTHERS AND SONS.

(By Douglas Mallach, the American Timber-man Poet.) On a dirty Hour at a slimy bar In the ante-room of hell, I have seen them stand with a devil’s leer, 1 have heard the tales they tell; 1 have heard them brag of the brutish things, I have heard them boast of shame, Till I longed again for the Jewish God, For the God who smoU with flame ; And 1 wondered much if there lingered still Not a dieam of boyhood land, Not a tender thought of a mother’s kiss Or a touch <>t a sister’s hand. For no wander far, and the years go by, And the boyhood vision fades, Yet we are the son-< of the mothers of men, And brothers of all the maids. And rt isn’t out there, in the wilds alone That the souls of men forget; In the hou-c of pride, on the polished stairs, W here the gilded ones forget. I have heard the tale that is often told On the dirtv bar-room floor.

While the idle smiled, and the lounger laughed, And the bestial asked for more. For the things we are are the thingwe are, Not the things in garments new ; And the coat that tits is the tailor’s coat, But the man inside is vou. It is such as I, it is such as you. That have made the jests and jades— Yet we are the soils of the mothers of men, And brothers of all the maids. Yea, the son- we are of a motherhood, Of a mother-love divine. And I cannot slander this mother of mine, If I do not slander mine. Yea, the brothers are of the sisterhood Of the sisters loved or lone, And you cannot slander the least and say 'I hat the world shall spare your own. For a woman’s name and a woman’s fame, They are sweet and frail as flowers, But the strength to shield and the arm to wield For the •woman’s name arc ours. Let the God-made man keep his Godmade trust Till his life’s last twilight fades, For we are the sons of the moti>« rs of men, And brothers to all the maids.