For sale by Veery Books:

Gay, Byron., My Angel of the Flaming Cross. Gay, Byron., My Angel of the Flaming Cross.
• Gay, Byron.
  My Angel of the Flaming Cross.
  Sunset Publishing Corp, New York, 1918, Wraps, , , Very Good
  
  

  [1], 2-3, [1] pp. Some wear at edges. As sung by Madame Schumann-Heink for our boys of the Army and Navy. Byron Gay wrote the music for the L. Frank Baum song "Susan Doozan." Madame Schumann-Heink was an operatic contralto, most highly respected at the time, associated with the Bayreuth festival and the Metropolitan Opera, and a familiar of Struass and Mahler. During WWI she toured the United States raising money for the war effort even though she had sons in both the German and the U.S. Navy. ''There's an angel over there An angel from I know not where Smiling sweetly through her tears She drove my fears away. Little Girl who nursed me through, I owe my life to you Oh Come back, love that I found and lost My Angel of the Flaming Cross.''

  
  Price: $18.00
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“Ode on the Death of a Favourite Cat, Drowned in a Tub of Gold Fishes”

’Twas on a lofty vase’s side,     
Where China’s gayest art had dyed     
    The azure flowers, that blow;     
Demurest of the tabby kind,     
The pensive Selima reclined,     
    Gazed on the lake below.     

Her conscious tail her joy declared;     
The fair round face, the snowy beard,     
    The velvet of her paws,     
Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,     
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,     
    She saw; and purred applause.     

Still had she gazed; but ’midst the tide     
Two angel forms were seen to glide,     
    The genii of the stream:     
Their scaly armour’s Tyrian hue     
Through richest purple to the view     
    Betrayed a golden gleam.     

The hapless nymph with wonder saw:     
A whisker first and then a claw,     
    With many an ardent wish,     
She stretched in vain to reach the prize.     
What female heart can gold despise?     
    What cat’s averse to fish?     

Presumptuous maid! with looks intent     
Again she stretched, again she bent,     
    Nor knew the gulf between.     
(Malignant Fate sat by, and smiled)     
The slippery verge her feet beguiled,     
    She tumbled headlong in.     

Eight times emerging from the flood     
She mewed to every watery god,     
    Some speedy aid to send.     
No dolphin came, no Nereid stirred;     
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard.     
    A favourite has no friend!     

From hence, ye beauties, undeceived,     
Know, one false step is ne’er retrieved,     
    And be with caution bold.     
Not all that tempts your wandering eyes     
And heedless hearts, is lawful prize;     
    Nor all that glisters gold.