  Illustration by R. A. LÜders. P RAY, maiden of ye ancient time, Fair stranger of a foreign clime, Tell me, as gaze ye o’er the sea, What thoughts arise to comfort thee? Hast lover there in ship of state, Or waitest thou beside the gate To welcome him from war’s alarms To the fond shelter of thine arms? Perchance that through the ages vast In prophecy thy gaze is cast And to Manhattan’s glad and gay Hotels, cafÉs and Great White Way Thy fancies take their wing, and show The Pleiades with lights aglow, Till in thy limpid, lucent eyes Bright visions of our feasts arise. “Fair stranger of a foreign clime.” Canst bridge the span of ages vast, O maiden of a fabled past? Then come! We’ll do our best to please; We’ll make thee guest at Pleiades! And ne’er in palmy days of Rome Couldst thou, fair maiden, feel at home More than at Pleiads’ tables round Where fellowship and faith abound. For ne’er in Rome were men like these Good fellows of the Pleiades, And ne’er were maidens half so fair As they who seek diversion there; Yet ne’er was time these fellows gay Would deem another in the way, And so make haste, fly o’er the sea, The Pleiades will welcome thee! Drawn by Wm. J. Steinigans. See the lady? Does the lady want the soap? The lady certainly does. Will the pup bring the soap to the lady? It will not—the pup is a gentleman pup and the lady is a suffragette. The pup wants her to get it herself. |
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