PREPAREDNESS

O, Mighty Atlas, thou hast borne the loadOf hapless peoples smarting from the goadOf Tyranny, until thy giant strengthSeems overtaxed and doomed to break at length.Unless thy vim endures with steadfast force;Unless thy Ship of State keeps on its course;Unless thou gird thy loins and stand astride,Colossus-like, the struggles that betide—While all the Furies strive, the Turk and Hun,To sap thy power—undo what thou hast done—Of what avail will all thy efforts beAgainst the tottering walls of Tyranny?And to what purpose will have lived thy menWho won imposing fame with sword or pen?And what, I pray, will all thy thousands slainAvail thy Empire if they've died in vain?

O, Mighty Atlas, thou hast borne the load

Of hapless peoples smarting from the goad

Of Tyranny, until thy giant strength

Seems overtaxed and doomed to break at length.

Unless thy vim endures with steadfast force;

Unless thy Ship of State keeps on its course;

Unless thou gird thy loins and stand astride,

Colossus-like, the struggles that betide—

While all the Furies strive, the Turk and Hun,

To sap thy power—undo what thou hast done—

Of what avail will all thy efforts be

Against the tottering walls of Tyranny?

And to what purpose will have lived thy men

Who won imposing fame with sword or pen?

And what, I pray, will all thy thousands slain

Avail thy Empire if they've died in vain?

The Ostrich has his wings, but not for flight;He flieson footwhen danger is in sight;His mate lays eggs upon the desert reachesAnd "sands" them over when the leopard screeches.The eggs, thus mounded, fall an easy preyTo feline foragers who slink that way.The Ostrich, thus, guards not his nest: insteadHe hides, in burning sands, his shameless headAnd lets his monoplane and rudder beStripped of their plumage by an enemy.Ostriches should CarryTheir Eggs in a BasketAnd use their FeathersFor Dusting over the Desert.The Squirrel is quite a different kind of fowl:He works while others sleep, the sly old owl!And stores up food, against the rainy day,In secret nooks, from forest thieves away.When winter comes, or when besieged by foes,Securely housed he feasts and thumbs his noseAnd ridicules starvation: he's immune!While others, shiftless, sing another tune.The Squirrel, you see, is much misfortune sparedIn times of stress because he is prepared.Improvident NutsShould Tear a LeafFrom the Squirrel's Diary.A Heifer on the Railroad Crossing stoodChewing Contentment's Cud, as heifers should,—When, rushing madly, "late again," there cameThe Noonday Mail. The Heifer was to blameFor choosing her position, I would say,Because the Engine had the Right of Whey.The Cow was unprepared! Her switching tailFailed signally to flag the Noonday Mail.But why keep beefing over milk that's spilled?She heeded not the sign and thus was killed.Heifers with UnprotectedFlanks should not InviteRear-guard Actions.The Busy Bee improves the shining hoursAnd gathers honey from the fragrant flowers.When Winter comes, forsaking field and rill,Hehivernates, but lives in clover still.While Famine stalks without, his Home,SweetHomeIs stored with tempting food from floor to dome.He never lacks, nor has to buy, but cellsHis surplus food gleaned from the flower-fringed dells.A thrifty fellow is the Busy BeeAnd fortified against Emergency.A Bee's EarsContain no WaxAnd he Saves his CombingsAgainst the Baldness of Old Age.The Mule is well equipped but lacks themind;His strategy is in his heels, behind.If pointed wrong, his practice is not dreaded,But kick he will, no matter how he's headed.With foresight lacking, hindsight to the fore,He'll be just simple Mule forevermore;Without the range or sight he'll blaze awayAnd thwart his purpose with his brazen bray.If well-directed effort were his cultNo fortress could withstand his catapult.A Mule should ConserveHis Ammunition andNot Shoot-off his Mouth.The Burglar, have you noticed? never troublesTo look for petty loot in obscure hovels.He packs his kit and steals adown the roadTo Gaspard Moneybags' renowned abode.He knows the house-plan ("inside" dope, nodoubt)And when he'sin, old Moneybags isout.But Jimmy does not dent the window-sash;He entersthru the doorand gets the cash.Prepared? Well, yes! He knew just where to look,For Nora hung the key upon the hook.Team-work isThe HandmaidenOf Efficiency.It pays to be Prepared, you see, and soThe Snail in Armored Car goes safe, tho' slow;And Alligators in their Coats of MailWithstand assaults where those, defenceless, fail.The Tortoise totes his Caripace aroundAnd dwells in safety where his foes abound;While Wasps, with poisoned javelins, defendSuccessfully their offspring to theend.A Sheep with ramparts has no thought of fear,But guards his buttress when his foes appear,And any Skunk can frighten and harassAn Army with Asphyxiating Gas.

The Ostrich has his wings, but not for flight;

He flieson footwhen danger is in sight;

His mate lays eggs upon the desert reaches

And "sands" them over when the leopard screeches.

The eggs, thus mounded, fall an easy prey

To feline foragers who slink that way.

The Ostrich, thus, guards not his nest: instead

He hides, in burning sands, his shameless head

And lets his monoplane and rudder be

Stripped of their plumage by an enemy.

Ostriches should CarryTheir Eggs in a BasketAnd use their FeathersFor Dusting over the Desert.

Ostriches should Carry

Their Eggs in a Basket

And use their Feathers

For Dusting over the Desert.

The Squirrel is quite a different kind of fowl:He works while others sleep, the sly old owl!And stores up food, against the rainy day,In secret nooks, from forest thieves away.When winter comes, or when besieged by foes,Securely housed he feasts and thumbs his noseAnd ridicules starvation: he's immune!While others, shiftless, sing another tune.The Squirrel, you see, is much misfortune sparedIn times of stress because he is prepared.

The Squirrel is quite a different kind of fowl:

He works while others sleep, the sly old owl!

And stores up food, against the rainy day,

In secret nooks, from forest thieves away.

When winter comes, or when besieged by foes,

Securely housed he feasts and thumbs his nose

And ridicules starvation: he's immune!

While others, shiftless, sing another tune.

The Squirrel, you see, is much misfortune spared

In times of stress because he is prepared.

Improvident NutsShould Tear a LeafFrom the Squirrel's Diary.

Improvident Nuts

Should Tear a Leaf

From the Squirrel's Diary.

A Heifer on the Railroad Crossing stoodChewing Contentment's Cud, as heifers should,—When, rushing madly, "late again," there cameThe Noonday Mail. The Heifer was to blameFor choosing her position, I would say,Because the Engine had the Right of Whey.The Cow was unprepared! Her switching tailFailed signally to flag the Noonday Mail.But why keep beefing over milk that's spilled?She heeded not the sign and thus was killed.

A Heifer on the Railroad Crossing stood

Chewing Contentment's Cud, as heifers should,—

When, rushing madly, "late again," there came

The Noonday Mail. The Heifer was to blame

For choosing her position, I would say,

Because the Engine had the Right of Whey.

The Cow was unprepared! Her switching tail

Failed signally to flag the Noonday Mail.

But why keep beefing over milk that's spilled?

She heeded not the sign and thus was killed.

Heifers with UnprotectedFlanks should not InviteRear-guard Actions.

Heifers with Unprotected

Flanks should not Invite

Rear-guard Actions.

The Busy Bee improves the shining hoursAnd gathers honey from the fragrant flowers.When Winter comes, forsaking field and rill,Hehivernates, but lives in clover still.While Famine stalks without, his Home,SweetHomeIs stored with tempting food from floor to dome.

The Busy Bee improves the shining hours

And gathers honey from the fragrant flowers.

When Winter comes, forsaking field and rill,

Hehivernates, but lives in clover still.

While Famine stalks without, his Home,SweetHome

Is stored with tempting food from floor to dome.

He never lacks, nor has to buy, but cellsHis surplus food gleaned from the flower-fringed dells.A thrifty fellow is the Busy BeeAnd fortified against Emergency.

He never lacks, nor has to buy, but cells

His surplus food gleaned from the flower-fringed dells.

A thrifty fellow is the Busy Bee

And fortified against Emergency.

A Bee's EarsContain no WaxAnd he Saves his CombingsAgainst the Baldness of Old Age.

A Bee's Ears

Contain no Wax

And he Saves his Combings

Against the Baldness of Old Age.

The Mule is well equipped but lacks themind;His strategy is in his heels, behind.If pointed wrong, his practice is not dreaded,But kick he will, no matter how he's headed.With foresight lacking, hindsight to the fore,He'll be just simple Mule forevermore;Without the range or sight he'll blaze awayAnd thwart his purpose with his brazen bray.If well-directed effort were his cultNo fortress could withstand his catapult.

The Mule is well equipped but lacks themind;

His strategy is in his heels, behind.

If pointed wrong, his practice is not dreaded,

But kick he will, no matter how he's headed.

With foresight lacking, hindsight to the fore,

He'll be just simple Mule forevermore;

Without the range or sight he'll blaze away

And thwart his purpose with his brazen bray.

If well-directed effort were his cult

No fortress could withstand his catapult.

A Mule should ConserveHis Ammunition andNot Shoot-off his Mouth.

A Mule should Conserve

His Ammunition and

Not Shoot-off his Mouth.

The Burglar, have you noticed? never troublesTo look for petty loot in obscure hovels.He packs his kit and steals adown the roadTo Gaspard Moneybags' renowned abode.He knows the house-plan ("inside" dope, nodoubt)And when he'sin, old Moneybags isout.But Jimmy does not dent the window-sash;He entersthru the doorand gets the cash.Prepared? Well, yes! He knew just where to look,For Nora hung the key upon the hook.

The Burglar, have you noticed? never troubles

To look for petty loot in obscure hovels.

He packs his kit and steals adown the road

To Gaspard Moneybags' renowned abode.

He knows the house-plan ("inside" dope, no

doubt)

And when he'sin, old Moneybags isout.

But Jimmy does not dent the window-sash;

He entersthru the doorand gets the cash.

Prepared? Well, yes! He knew just where to look,

For Nora hung the key upon the hook.

Team-work isThe HandmaidenOf Efficiency.

Team-work is

The Handmaiden

Of Efficiency.

It pays to be Prepared, you see, and soThe Snail in Armored Car goes safe, tho' slow;And Alligators in their Coats of MailWithstand assaults where those, defenceless, fail.The Tortoise totes his Caripace aroundAnd dwells in safety where his foes abound;While Wasps, with poisoned javelins, defendSuccessfully their offspring to theend.A Sheep with ramparts has no thought of fear,But guards his buttress when his foes appear,And any Skunk can frighten and harassAn Army with Asphyxiating Gas.

It pays to be Prepared, you see, and so

The Snail in Armored Car goes safe, tho' slow;

And Alligators in their Coats of Mail

Withstand assaults where those, defenceless, fail.

The Tortoise totes his Caripace around

And dwells in safety where his foes abound;

While Wasps, with poisoned javelins, defend

Successfully their offspring to theend.

A Sheep with ramparts has no thought of fear,

But guards his buttress when his foes appear,

And any Skunk can frighten and harass

An Army with Asphyxiating Gas.

How I loved her! There on the gate we'd lean,(The dear, old gate that never gave awayThe loving nothings we were wont to say)From day to day,And sometimes after dark;She was my Angel-Sweetheart, just sixteen.But I was shy! And while I longed to tasteThe nectar of her lips, I was afraidTo draw her to my breast and kiss the Maid:But I essayed!And this is what I drew—"There's Papa with the bulldog, so make haste!"What could I do? The "bark" was flecked with foam,And old man Jones was meaner than a cur;So there I stood 'twixt fear, and love of herAnd didn't stirUntil they came: and thenI kissed themallGood-bye andbeat it home.

How I loved her! There on the gate we'd lean,

(The dear, old gate that never gave away

The loving nothings we were wont to say)

From day to day,

And sometimes after dark;

She was my Angel-Sweetheart, just sixteen.

But I was shy! And while I longed to tasteThe nectar of her lips, I was afraidTo draw her to my breast and kiss the Maid:But I essayed!And this is what I drew—"There's Papa with the bulldog, so make haste!"

But I was shy! And while I longed to taste

The nectar of her lips, I was afraid

To draw her to my breast and kiss the Maid:

But I essayed!

And this is what I drew—

"There's Papa with the bulldog, so make haste!"

What could I do? The "bark" was flecked with foam,And old man Jones was meaner than a cur;So there I stood 'twixt fear, and love of herAnd didn't stirUntil they came: and thenI kissed themallGood-bye andbeat it home.

What could I do? The "bark" was flecked with foam,

And old man Jones was meaner than a cur;

So there I stood 'twixt fear, and love of her

And didn't stir

Until they came: and then

I kissed themallGood-bye andbeat it home.

My Country vast and grand,Sweet Montezuma Land,My Stingareé.Land of the Knife and Gun,Villa and Scorpion;Land of the Evil OneI weep for thee!Smallpox and RattlesnakesLurk in thy Cactus brakes,And Yellow Jack.Spiders and CentipedesGloat o'er thy murd'rous deeds:To cure thy crying needs,Call Diaz back.Tarantula and FliesPoison your lands and skies:Behold your graves!Carranza's waving beardBy Pancho's Band is feared,And will be till he's shearedOr dyes or shaves.Horned Toads and Vampire Bats,Gilas and Mountain Cats,Where'er you go!Buzzards and Vultures reignOver a million slain;And Mescal is the baneOf Mexico.O, Land of Chili conCarne and Obregon,Let murders cease!Keep Freedom's fires aglowWhere La Frijólés grow;Throw up your SombreroAnd Keep the Peace!

My Country vast and grand,Sweet Montezuma Land,My Stingareé.Land of the Knife and Gun,Villa and Scorpion;Land of the Evil OneI weep for thee!

My Country vast and grand,

Sweet Montezuma Land,

My Stingareé.

Land of the Knife and Gun,

Villa and Scorpion;

Land of the Evil One

I weep for thee!

Smallpox and RattlesnakesLurk in thy Cactus brakes,And Yellow Jack.Spiders and CentipedesGloat o'er thy murd'rous deeds:To cure thy crying needs,Call Diaz back.

Smallpox and Rattlesnakes

Lurk in thy Cactus brakes,

And Yellow Jack.

Spiders and Centipedes

Gloat o'er thy murd'rous deeds:

To cure thy crying needs,

Call Diaz back.

Tarantula and FliesPoison your lands and skies:Behold your graves!Carranza's waving beardBy Pancho's Band is feared,And will be till he's shearedOr dyes or shaves.

Tarantula and Flies

Poison your lands and skies:

Behold your graves!

Carranza's waving beard

By Pancho's Band is feared,

And will be till he's sheared

Or dyes or shaves.

Horned Toads and Vampire Bats,Gilas and Mountain Cats,Where'er you go!

Horned Toads and Vampire Bats,

Gilas and Mountain Cats,

Where'er you go!

Buzzards and Vultures reignOver a million slain;And Mescal is the baneOf Mexico.

Buzzards and Vultures reign

Over a million slain;

And Mescal is the bane

Of Mexico.

O, Land of Chili conCarne and Obregon,Let murders cease!Keep Freedom's fires aglowWhere La Frijólés grow;Throw up your SombreroAnd Keep the Peace!

O, Land of Chili con

Carne and Obregon,

Let murders cease!

Keep Freedom's fires aglow

Where La Frijólés grow;

Throw up your Sombrero

And Keep the Peace!

Love is the Mecca of our Heart's Desire:We worship at its shrine and feel its thrill;Burning our Hopes upon its Altar FireTill Passion be consumed, but not until.

Love is the Mecca of our Heart's Desire:

We worship at its shrine and feel its thrill;

Burning our Hopes upon its Altar Fire

Till Passion be consumed, but not until.

Then Love assumes a calmer mood, when spent—His quiver empty and his bow unstrung—And peers into the pleasing Past, contentTo live, unmoved, his memories among.

Then Love assumes a calmer mood, when spent—

His quiver empty and his bow unstrung—

And peers into the pleasing Past, content

To live, unmoved, his memories among.

Somedrive! From tee to green in one: par, three!That's putting proper English on, you see!And, Goodness Golfus! See the ball roll upTo easy putting distance from the cup.Who is this man? Professional, no doubt!He'll "card" a thirty-seven going out;And if he gets the "breaks" he'll make, methinks,A new low record for the Piedmont Links.See with what confidence he wends his wayThe Fairway thru to make his hole out play!The Gallery, expectant, follows thruTo see the Champion go down intwo.Then to the ball he makes his last address,(The ball was peeved at what he said, I guess)And pulls his gooseneck back a foot or soBefore he hits the sphere the fateful blow.Alas for human frailty! See it flitAcross the green into the sandy pit!The sighing winds, in protest, moaned Beware!While he invoked the Deity in prayer.And then he played his third, but topped the sphere,The Rubber Rogue responding with a leer.A halo hung around the Stranger's headIt seemed: but, nay! 'twas brimstone fire instead,For what he said, in type is not displayedExcept on fire-proof paper, I'm afraid.Four! Five! Six! But still far from the goal!The Player loses all his self-controlAnd breaks the "goose" in twain: then hark the din,When Caddie trails the ball andkicks it in!Far from the scene of strife the Club House becksThe weary Golfers on their inward treks;And close beside, beneath the porch's shade,The Nineteenth hole dispenses lemonadeAnd other cheering drinks, within the law;But little ice that cuts: who cares a straw?

Somedrive! From tee to green in one: par, three!

That's putting proper English on, you see!

And, Goodness Golfus! See the ball roll up

To easy putting distance from the cup.

Who is this man? Professional, no doubt!

He'll "card" a thirty-seven going out;

And if he gets the "breaks" he'll make, methinks,

A new low record for the Piedmont Links.

See with what confidence he wends his way

The Fairway thru to make his hole out play!

The Gallery, expectant, follows thru

To see the Champion go down intwo.

Then to the ball he makes his last address,

(The ball was peeved at what he said, I guess)

And pulls his gooseneck back a foot or so

Before he hits the sphere the fateful blow.

Alas for human frailty! See it flit

Across the green into the sandy pit!

The sighing winds, in protest, moaned Beware!

While he invoked the Deity in prayer.

And then he played his third, but topped the sphere,

The Rubber Rogue responding with a leer.

A halo hung around the Stranger's headIt seemed: but, nay! 'twas brimstone fire instead,For what he said, in type is not displayedExcept on fire-proof paper, I'm afraid.

A halo hung around the Stranger's head

It seemed: but, nay! 'twas brimstone fire instead,

For what he said, in type is not displayed

Except on fire-proof paper, I'm afraid.

Four! Five! Six! But still far from the goal!The Player loses all his self-controlAnd breaks the "goose" in twain: then hark the din,When Caddie trails the ball andkicks it in!

Four! Five! Six! But still far from the goal!

The Player loses all his self-control

And breaks the "goose" in twain: then hark the din,

When Caddie trails the ball andkicks it in!

Far from the scene of strife the Club House becksThe weary Golfers on their inward treks;And close beside, beneath the porch's shade,The Nineteenth hole dispenses lemonadeAnd other cheering drinks, within the law;But little ice that cuts: who cares a straw?

Far from the scene of strife the Club House becks

The weary Golfers on their inward treks;

And close beside, beneath the porch's shade,

The Nineteenth hole dispenses lemonade

And other cheering drinks, within the law;

But little ice that cuts: who cares a straw?

Yes! I've done my bit, as you fellows would say,If serving one's country deserves any praise:Two years at the front, then an arm shot away!And this is my "cross" in reward for those days.But I can do more! While there's blood in my veinsI'll give the last drop, while the hoof of the HunPolluted and cloven in Alsace remains:Until France is free we must fight: every one!Of course I'll go back to the trenches again:My wound is fast healing and soon will be sound;Six chevrons have I, but I'll fight with the menWho fill up the shell-holes like moles in the ground.I'll charge with the Boys when they hurdle the top,The Tri-color lashed to my half-useless arm,With pistol or sword in my hand, till I drop:For Freedom is menaced: Go sound the alarm!France needs every son, be they crippled or strong,To rid our fair land of the murderous horde:So flock to the Colors, Brave Boys: come along!And fight till the Glory of France is restored!Our women are outraged, our children enslaved;Up, Frenchmen! and strike till the last dying breath!We canneverturn back, so be it engravedOn our spears and escutcheons,—Vengeance or Death!

Yes! I've done my bit, as you fellows would say,

If serving one's country deserves any praise:

Two years at the front, then an arm shot away!

And this is my "cross" in reward for those days.

But I can do more! While there's blood in my veins

I'll give the last drop, while the hoof of the Hun

Polluted and cloven in Alsace remains:

Until France is free we must fight: every one!

Of course I'll go back to the trenches again:My wound is fast healing and soon will be sound;Six chevrons have I, but I'll fight with the menWho fill up the shell-holes like moles in the ground.I'll charge with the Boys when they hurdle the top,The Tri-color lashed to my half-useless arm,With pistol or sword in my hand, till I drop:For Freedom is menaced: Go sound the alarm!

Of course I'll go back to the trenches again:

My wound is fast healing and soon will be sound;

Six chevrons have I, but I'll fight with the men

Who fill up the shell-holes like moles in the ground.

I'll charge with the Boys when they hurdle the top,

The Tri-color lashed to my half-useless arm,

With pistol or sword in my hand, till I drop:

For Freedom is menaced: Go sound the alarm!

France needs every son, be they crippled or strong,To rid our fair land of the murderous horde:So flock to the Colors, Brave Boys: come along!And fight till the Glory of France is restored!Our women are outraged, our children enslaved;Up, Frenchmen! and strike till the last dying breath!We canneverturn back, so be it engravedOn our spears and escutcheons,—Vengeance or Death!

France needs every son, be they crippled or strong,

To rid our fair land of the murderous horde:

So flock to the Colors, Brave Boys: come along!

And fight till the Glory of France is restored!

Our women are outraged, our children enslaved;

Up, Frenchmen! and strike till the last dying breath!

We canneverturn back, so be it engraved

On our spears and escutcheons,—Vengeance or Death!

Down by the village runs the streamOnce placid, now a raging flood:Behold it, by the day's last gleamGorged with the dead and dyed with blood.The Chapel bell has tolled its last;The trees are bare, tho this be Spring:Death's shroud is on the village cast,And Ruin reigns o'er everything.A grist of carnage clogs the Mill,And shells have razed the quondam homes:Fresh graves the trampled vineyards fill,Whose cellars are but catacombs.Beyond the village, RefugeesStand, herded, cowed by fear and grief,Or,gassed, implore on bended kneesFor death, despairing of relief.With bayonets and faces setThe Grenadiers, by L'Aiglon led,Present a gruesome parapet,—Thus,still defending, tho they're dead.

Down by the village runs the streamOnce placid, now a raging flood:Behold it, by the day's last gleamGorged with the dead and dyed with blood.

Down by the village runs the stream

Once placid, now a raging flood:

Behold it, by the day's last gleam

Gorged with the dead and dyed with blood.

The Chapel bell has tolled its last;The trees are bare, tho this be Spring:Death's shroud is on the village cast,And Ruin reigns o'er everything.

The Chapel bell has tolled its last;

The trees are bare, tho this be Spring:

Death's shroud is on the village cast,

And Ruin reigns o'er everything.

A grist of carnage clogs the Mill,And shells have razed the quondam homes:Fresh graves the trampled vineyards fill,Whose cellars are but catacombs.

A grist of carnage clogs the Mill,

And shells have razed the quondam homes:

Fresh graves the trampled vineyards fill,

Whose cellars are but catacombs.

Beyond the village, RefugeesStand, herded, cowed by fear and grief,Or,gassed, implore on bended kneesFor death, despairing of relief.

Beyond the village, Refugees

Stand, herded, cowed by fear and grief,

Or,gassed, implore on bended knees

For death, despairing of relief.

With bayonets and faces setThe Grenadiers, by L'Aiglon led,Present a gruesome parapet,—Thus,still defending, tho they're dead.

With bayonets and faces set

The Grenadiers, by L'Aiglon led,

Present a gruesome parapet,—

Thus,still defending, tho they're dead.

We are Samsons, Biff! Boom! Bang!Here to pot the Potsdam Gang.If Bad Bill is found in Metz,We'll not vouch for what he gets!If in Essen he is caught,Good Night! Kultur, Him und Gott!Shades of Bismarck! Watch him faintWhen he finds his Empireain't!To our Sweethearts we said "Knit,"We must go and do our Bit!How d'ye do, Pierrot? Pierrette?We are friends of Lafayette!Wait until our Drive begins,—Bill, you'll suffer for your sins!Sick 'em, Prince! We'll tie the fuseOnto Frederich Wilhelm's shoes.When we occupy Cologne—Phew! How big and strong you've grown!We will paint each shop and lodgeWith bright red in camouflage!Then to Carlsbad we will swing;Need the baths like everything!Frauleins leave your fears behind;We don't war on womankind!We are filled with fire and zeal:Watch us pick the locks to Kiel!We are coming to our ownIn Lorraine across the Rhone!When our Flocks of Eaglets fly--Dunder! Blitzen! Bill, Good-bye!Beaks of Steel and Claws of Lead--Sun eclipsed! The Geezer's dead.CHORUSO, you U Boats,That for U!We slipped thru you;How d'y' do?Hindenberg? Ach, let him rant!He won't stop us'cause he can't!Zepps and Taubs are falling down;Butcher Bill will lose his crown;Watch your step, you Horrid Hun,You can'tgoosestepwhen yourun!Hooray for the crimson, white and blue!'Rah for Old Glory!Chapeau bas vous!'Rah for the Tri-Color! We're at homeInla belleFrance by theeau deSomme;Hooray for our Allies true and brave!We'll all sweep thru like a tidal waveOver thetopin a mighty Drive--And never stop while theHundssurvive!

We are Samsons, Biff! Boom! Bang!

Here to pot the Potsdam Gang.

If Bad Bill is found in Metz,

We'll not vouch for what he gets!

If in Essen he is caught,

Good Night! Kultur, Him und Gott!

Shades of Bismarck! Watch him faint

When he finds his Empireain't!

To our Sweethearts we said "Knit,"We must go and do our Bit!How d'ye do, Pierrot? Pierrette?We are friends of Lafayette!Wait until our Drive begins,—Bill, you'll suffer for your sins!Sick 'em, Prince! We'll tie the fuseOnto Frederich Wilhelm's shoes.

To our Sweethearts we said "Knit,"

We must go and do our Bit!

How d'ye do, Pierrot? Pierrette?

We are friends of Lafayette!

Wait until our Drive begins,—

Bill, you'll suffer for your sins!

Sick 'em, Prince! We'll tie the fuse

Onto Frederich Wilhelm's shoes.

When we occupy Cologne—Phew! How big and strong you've grown!We will paint each shop and lodgeWith bright red in camouflage!Then to Carlsbad we will swing;Need the baths like everything!Frauleins leave your fears behind;We don't war on womankind!

When we occupy Cologne—

Phew! How big and strong you've grown!

We will paint each shop and lodge

With bright red in camouflage!

Then to Carlsbad we will swing;

Need the baths like everything!

Frauleins leave your fears behind;

We don't war on womankind!

We are filled with fire and zeal:Watch us pick the locks to Kiel!We are coming to our ownIn Lorraine across the Rhone!When our Flocks of Eaglets fly--Dunder! Blitzen! Bill, Good-bye!Beaks of Steel and Claws of Lead--Sun eclipsed! The Geezer's dead.

We are filled with fire and zeal:

Watch us pick the locks to Kiel!

We are coming to our own

In Lorraine across the Rhone!

When our Flocks of Eaglets fly--

Dunder! Blitzen! Bill, Good-bye!

Beaks of Steel and Claws of Lead--

Sun eclipsed! The Geezer's dead.

CHORUS

O, you U Boats,That for U!We slipped thru you;How d'y' do?Hindenberg? Ach, let him rant!He won't stop us'cause he can't!Zepps and Taubs are falling down;Butcher Bill will lose his crown;Watch your step, you Horrid Hun,You can'tgoosestepwhen yourun!

O, you U Boats,

That for U!

We slipped thru you;

How d'y' do?

Hindenberg? Ach, let him rant!

He won't stop us'cause he can't!

Zepps and Taubs are falling down;

Butcher Bill will lose his crown;

Watch your step, you Horrid Hun,

You can'tgoosestepwhen yourun!

Hooray for the crimson, white and blue!'Rah for Old Glory!Chapeau bas vous!'Rah for the Tri-Color! We're at homeInla belleFrance by theeau deSomme;Hooray for our Allies true and brave!We'll all sweep thru like a tidal waveOver thetopin a mighty Drive--And never stop while theHundssurvive!

Hooray for the crimson, white and blue!

'Rah for Old Glory!Chapeau bas vous!

'Rah for the Tri-Color! We're at home

Inla belleFrance by theeau deSomme;

Hooray for our Allies true and brave!

We'll all sweep thru like a tidal wave

Over thetopin a mighty Drive--

And never stop while theHundssurvive!

O, the comfort we feelWhen we finish a mealConsisting of rice cakes and whey;Because beyond questionThere's no indigestionAt the end of a Meatless day.When the "buck" dough doth riseFrom y'East to the skiesAnd hot griddled pancakes—oh, say!With sausages fryingThere's no use denyingYour welcome, O Wheatless day.When the house is afrostWithout fuel: its costIs more than we're able to pay:With our hearts all aglowWe can thaw ice or snowMaking light of a Heatless day.When there's discord with wifeThere's a shadow on lifeThat once was so sunny and gay;But billing and cooingSubordinate stewingAt the end of a Sweetless day!When will beefsteak and hamNot be sold by the gram?How long will these high prices stay?When the bad ProfiteersShow contrition and tearsAt the dawn of a Cheatless day.When our Soldiers in FranceDo their Indian danceAnd scalp all the Huns in the fray,The Kaiser will holler,With rope for a collar,At the end of his Ruthless day!

O, the comfort we feelWhen we finish a mealConsisting of rice cakes and whey;Because beyond questionThere's no indigestionAt the end of a Meatless day.

O, the comfort we feel

When we finish a meal

Consisting of rice cakes and whey;

Because beyond question

There's no indigestion

At the end of a Meatless day.

When the "buck" dough doth riseFrom y'East to the skiesAnd hot griddled pancakes—oh, say!With sausages fryingThere's no use denyingYour welcome, O Wheatless day.

When the "buck" dough doth rise

From y'East to the skies

And hot griddled pancakes—oh, say!

With sausages frying

There's no use denying

Your welcome, O Wheatless day.

When the house is afrostWithout fuel: its costIs more than we're able to pay:With our hearts all aglowWe can thaw ice or snowMaking light of a Heatless day.

When the house is afrost

Without fuel: its cost

Is more than we're able to pay:

With our hearts all aglow

We can thaw ice or snow

Making light of a Heatless day.

When there's discord with wifeThere's a shadow on lifeThat once was so sunny and gay;But billing and cooingSubordinate stewingAt the end of a Sweetless day!

When there's discord with wife

There's a shadow on life

That once was so sunny and gay;

But billing and cooing

Subordinate stewing

At the end of a Sweetless day!

When will beefsteak and hamNot be sold by the gram?How long will these high prices stay?When the bad ProfiteersShow contrition and tearsAt the dawn of a Cheatless day.

When will beefsteak and ham

Not be sold by the gram?

How long will these high prices stay?

When the bad Profiteers

Show contrition and tears

At the dawn of a Cheatless day.

When our Soldiers in FranceDo their Indian danceAnd scalp all the Huns in the fray,The Kaiser will holler,With rope for a collar,At the end of his Ruthless day!

When our Soldiers in France

Do their Indian dance

And scalp all the Huns in the fray,

The Kaiser will holler,

With rope for a collar,

At the end of his Ruthless day!

While now 'tis meet to eat fish, eggs and maize,Vicemeat and wheat whene'er we dine or sup,So be it! but this protest I would raise—In spite of warnings—veal keeps bobbing up!

While now 'tis meet to eat fish, eggs and maize,

Vicemeat and wheat whene'er we dine or sup,

So be it! but this protest I would raise—

In spite of warnings—veal keeps bobbing up!

O Sun and Skies, that Hoover o'er our FieldsWhere Grains implanted lie, and Silos stand,—Pour out thy Warmth and Rains till Hunger yieldsThruout the World to our blestFodderland!

O Sun and Skies, that Hoover o'er our Fields

Where Grains implanted lie, and Silos stand,—

Pour out thy Warmth and Rains till Hunger yields

Thruout the World to our blestFodderland!

I seem to have taken a new lease on lifeSince the little one came;I've lost the old grouch, and I say to my wife,Do you think I'm to blameBecause I have changed in my feelings towards youSince the Little One came?The furnace, 'tis true, gave me something to do,But I think it a shameThat some tiny tie like the Little One here(How is Snooks for a name?)Was not sooner left on our doorstep, my dear!The Store takes my time, but a very small part,—It's all over at four!I've cut Clancy's out and have made a new start;All my cronies are sore!But what do I care? I have mended my ways,So I rush from the StoreAnd hasten back home where the Little One playsOn the ruggèd hall floor,And pick him up quick (O, how pretty he looks!)Without shutting the door;So anxious I am to caress littleSnooks.The chafing-dish chafes and the Joy-car is sore;We have given them up!The Two-step and Bridge are tabooed evermore;There is Joy in our Cup!We've cut out the movies and dining aboutFor our own modest sup;And billiards and golfing, I've cut them both out!As I did to the Hup.With playthings and drum (and a ruppy, tup, tup!)Loaded up like a Krupp,I beat it to Snooky,—ourEnglish Bull Pup.

I seem to have taken a new lease on life

Since the little one came;

I've lost the old grouch, and I say to my wife,

Do you think I'm to blame

Because I have changed in my feelings towards you

Since the Little One came?

The furnace, 'tis true, gave me something to do,

But I think it a shame

That some tiny tie like the Little One here

(How is Snooks for a name?)

Was not sooner left on our doorstep, my dear!

The Store takes my time, but a very small part,—It's all over at four!I've cut Clancy's out and have made a new start;All my cronies are sore!But what do I care? I have mended my ways,So I rush from the StoreAnd hasten back home where the Little One playsOn the ruggèd hall floor,And pick him up quick (O, how pretty he looks!)Without shutting the door;So anxious I am to caress littleSnooks.

The Store takes my time, but a very small part,—

It's all over at four!

I've cut Clancy's out and have made a new start;

All my cronies are sore!

But what do I care? I have mended my ways,

So I rush from the Store

And hasten back home where the Little One plays

On the ruggèd hall floor,

And pick him up quick (O, how pretty he looks!)

Without shutting the door;

So anxious I am to caress littleSnooks.

The chafing-dish chafes and the Joy-car is sore;We have given them up!The Two-step and Bridge are tabooed evermore;There is Joy in our Cup!We've cut out the movies and dining aboutFor our own modest sup;And billiards and golfing, I've cut them both out!As I did to the Hup.With playthings and drum (and a ruppy, tup, tup!)Loaded up like a Krupp,I beat it to Snooky,—ourEnglish Bull Pup.

The chafing-dish chafes and the Joy-car is sore;

We have given them up!

The Two-step and Bridge are tabooed evermore;

There is Joy in our Cup!

We've cut out the movies and dining about

For our own modest sup;

And billiards and golfing, I've cut them both out!

As I did to the Hup.

With playthings and drum (and a ruppy, tup, tup!)

Loaded up like a Krupp,

I beat it to Snooky,—ourEnglish Bull Pup.

Run along, Little Girl! for it's bed-time now:Your Dollies are sleepy and poor old Bow-wowIs weary and lonesome, curled up in a heap—'Twould take little rocking to put him to sleep!Your Teddy Bear's growling: or is it a snore?Perhaps he objects to his bed on the floor?So pick up your treasures and when prayers are said—Run along, Little Girl, and climb in to bed!Run along, Little Girl! The Sandman is here;You've crowded too much into one day, I fear!Poor, little, tired Girlie, you've worked at your playTill the bloom of your cheeks has faded away.To-morrow, again, you can sit by the fireAnd dress all your Dollies in gala attire.Say, Good Night! to your thimble, needle and seams;Run along, Little Girl, and sweet be your dreams!Run along, Little Girl, and cover up tight!There's nothing to harm you, no spooks in the nightNor Bogeymen glaring when you are awake;For they'rebadlittle girls that Bogeymen take.

Run along, Little Girl! for it's bed-time now:

Your Dollies are sleepy and poor old Bow-wow

Is weary and lonesome, curled up in a heap—

'Twould take little rocking to put him to sleep!

Your Teddy Bear's growling: or is it a snore?

Perhaps he objects to his bed on the floor?

So pick up your treasures and when prayers are said—

Run along, Little Girl, and climb in to bed!

Run along, Little Girl! The Sandman is here;You've crowded too much into one day, I fear!Poor, little, tired Girlie, you've worked at your playTill the bloom of your cheeks has faded away.To-morrow, again, you can sit by the fireAnd dress all your Dollies in gala attire.Say, Good Night! to your thimble, needle and seams;Run along, Little Girl, and sweet be your dreams!

Run along, Little Girl! The Sandman is here;

You've crowded too much into one day, I fear!

Poor, little, tired Girlie, you've worked at your play

Till the bloom of your cheeks has faded away.

To-morrow, again, you can sit by the fire

And dress all your Dollies in gala attire.

Say, Good Night! to your thimble, needle and seams;

Run along, Little Girl, and sweet be your dreams!

Run along, Little Girl, and cover up tight!There's nothing to harm you, no spooks in the nightNor Bogeymen glaring when you are awake;For they'rebadlittle girls that Bogeymen take.

Run along, Little Girl, and cover up tight!

There's nothing to harm you, no spooks in the night

Nor Bogeymen glaring when you are awake;

For they'rebadlittle girls that Bogeymen take.

Picture a Home with love aglow and laughterReverberating from each joist and rafter;A sweet-faced Mother kissing you "Good Night"!With "Go to sleep! lest Santa Claus take frightAnd dashes by—leaving no books or toysFor naughty, wide-eyed, little girls and boys."Then see her tip-toe down the stairs, and trimThe tree—a toy on ev'ry outstretched limb;The rocking-horse and wagon at the base,And candy-stockings in the big fireplace:For thus we retrospect to show, no otherWould scheme and work and "fabricate" like MotherTo make our Christmas Day a grand fruition,And keep the secret of its sweet tradition.

Picture a Home with love aglow and laughter

Reverberating from each joist and rafter;

A sweet-faced Mother kissing you "Good Night"!

With "Go to sleep! lest Santa Claus take fright

And dashes by—leaving no books or toys

For naughty, wide-eyed, little girls and boys."

Then see her tip-toe down the stairs, and trim

The tree—a toy on ev'ry outstretched limb;

The rocking-horse and wagon at the base,

And candy-stockings in the big fireplace:

For thus we retrospect to show, no other

Would scheme and work and "fabricate" like Mother

To make our Christmas Day a grand fruition,

And keep the secret of its sweet tradition.

We have arrived! America is First!Here Freedom cradled; here its pæan burstUpon the ears of nations, near and farTill Light of Freedom is the Guiding StarThruout the world; though Thraldom still obscuresThe Guiding Star where Tyranny endures.'Twas ever thus till Boston's "Reb" arrayUpset King George's teapot in the Bay,And Pegasus, whom we Revere, astrideHis high-bred hobby, warned the countryside.Before that time the Briton played the gameOfpour la teaor Golf (its proper name).With confidence and brassie nerve, methinks,Until they struck a Bunker on our linksThat thwarted all their prowess—'pon my soul!And left them groggy at the nineteenth hole.But still they puttered 'round and drank our rumTill Washington's avenging time had come;When, with his army, steeled at Valley Forge,He, George the First, uncrowned the other George,And all the "red-breasts," from our eyries shooedWhere now the Bird of Freedom guards his brood.

We have arrived! America is First!

Here Freedom cradled; here its pæan burst

Upon the ears of nations, near and far

Till Light of Freedom is the Guiding Star

Thruout the world; though Thraldom still obscures

The Guiding Star where Tyranny endures.

'Twas ever thus till Boston's "Reb" array

Upset King George's teapot in the Bay,

And Pegasus, whom we Revere, astride

His high-bred hobby, warned the countryside.

Before that time the Briton played the game

Ofpour la teaor Golf (its proper name).

With confidence and brassie nerve, methinks,

Until they struck a Bunker on our links

That thwarted all their prowess—'pon my soul!

And left them groggy at the nineteenth hole.

But still they puttered 'round and drank our rum

Till Washington's avenging time had come;

When, with his army, steeled at Valley Forge,

He, George the First, uncrowned the other George,

And all the "red-breasts," from our eyries shooed

Where now the Bird of Freedom guards his brood.

The stars are agleam in their azurine field,Diffusing effulgence afar;But magnitude, lustre and fixedness yieldTo the glorious Service Star.In aureate setting, a pendant aglare,Is the radiant Service Star;That blazes with fire like a rare solitaire,A gift to the Valkyr of War.Protect thou our treasure, O, Valkyr! RestoreOur Jewel so priceless! and barFrom Valhalla's Dungeons, where Death's torrents pour,Our sanctified Service Star!

The stars are agleam in their azurine field,Diffusing effulgence afar;But magnitude, lustre and fixedness yieldTo the glorious Service Star.

The stars are agleam in their azurine field,

Diffusing effulgence afar;

But magnitude, lustre and fixedness yield

To the glorious Service Star.

In aureate setting, a pendant aglare,Is the radiant Service Star;That blazes with fire like a rare solitaire,A gift to the Valkyr of War.

In aureate setting, a pendant aglare,

Is the radiant Service Star;

That blazes with fire like a rare solitaire,

A gift to the Valkyr of War.

Protect thou our treasure, O, Valkyr! RestoreOur Jewel so priceless! and barFrom Valhalla's Dungeons, where Death's torrents pour,Our sanctified Service Star!

Protect thou our treasure, O, Valkyr! Restore

Our Jewel so priceless! and bar

From Valhalla's Dungeons, where Death's torrents pour,

Our sanctified Service Star!

Some day when the war is endedAnd we sail from France away,With sorrow and longings blended,Back home to America;And we live once more in BlightyA thousand years in a day,In the Land of God AlmightyWhere the Old Folks watch and pray:Some day, when we hit the pillowAgain on a box-spring bed,As snug as an armadilloWith his shell-protected head;When bugles refrain from tooting,And noises of battle stop;When victory ends recruiting,Or charging Over the Top:Someday! when we're thru with fightingAnd the beaten Hun retreats;When the Cooties cease from bitingAnd we sleep between the sheets!

Some day when the war is ended

And we sail from France away,

With sorrow and longings blended,

Back home to America;

And we live once more in Blighty

A thousand years in a day,

In the Land of God Almighty

Where the Old Folks watch and pray:

Some day, when we hit the pillow

Again on a box-spring bed,

As snug as an armadillo

With his shell-protected head;

When bugles refrain from tooting,

And noises of battle stop;

When victory ends recruiting,

Or charging Over the Top:

Someday! when we're thru with fighting

And the beaten Hun retreats;

When the Cooties cease from biting

And we sleep between the sheets!

And now behold the Merchant Submarine!Only its peeking periscope is seen,But what a cyclorama it revealsTo those below! Thru surging seas it stealsAnd vies with dolphins, porpoises and sharksTo keep apace with brigantines and barks;And, tho itself unseen, it's proud to showTo what low depths a submarine can go.The Cyclops sees as well by night as day;Its father, Neptune, gives it right of way:Amphibious, it rides the Ocean's crest,Or in its sunken Gardens takes its rest.This new-type boat we designate as ItBecause no other pronoun seems to fit.No water-laden craft could be a He,Nor one unspoken could be rated She.The Germans call itunter: O. U. Cargo!They aim to close the bar on the embargo.Beneath the waves no lurching doth it feelBut speeds its course upon an even keel.With duplex engines and a double crew,(It's "manned" by mermaids when it's hid from view).It scoffs at dangers, tho they lurk around,And shuts itseyeto perils that abound.There's scant spare space, but still its ribs enfoldA priceless cargo in its shallow hold.Past hostile ships into a neutral haven,It comes up smiling with all flags a wavin'.But now these "Cargo Craft" throw off disguiseAnd cut our neutral throats: it's no surpriseThat dastards, who as "scraps of paper" rateTheir solemn Treaties, would thus lie in waitAnd murder innocents without emotion,Making a shambles of the outraged Ocean.Now lashed to fury, see the waves rebelAnd sweep these Prussian Pirates down to Hell!No longer neutral the Avenging SwordIs in our hands to smite the Hun-hound horde.The God of Joshua, in righteous wrathWill, in its flight thru empyrean path,Command the Sun to stop: it is His will!TillKulturbe effaced—and not until.

And now behold the Merchant Submarine!

Only its peeking periscope is seen,

But what a cyclorama it reveals

To those below! Thru surging seas it steals

And vies with dolphins, porpoises and sharks

To keep apace with brigantines and barks;

And, tho itself unseen, it's proud to show

To what low depths a submarine can go.

The Cyclops sees as well by night as day;

Its father, Neptune, gives it right of way:

Amphibious, it rides the Ocean's crest,

Or in its sunken Gardens takes its rest.

This new-type boat we designate as It

Because no other pronoun seems to fit.

No water-laden craft could be a He,

Nor one unspoken could be rated She.

The Germans call itunter: O. U. Cargo!

They aim to close the bar on the embargo.

Beneath the waves no lurching doth it feel

But speeds its course upon an even keel.

With duplex engines and a double crew,

(It's "manned" by mermaids when it's hid from view).

It scoffs at dangers, tho they lurk around,

And shuts itseyeto perils that abound.

There's scant spare space, but still its ribs enfold

A priceless cargo in its shallow hold.

Past hostile ships into a neutral haven,

It comes up smiling with all flags a wavin'.

But now these "Cargo Craft" throw off disguiseAnd cut our neutral throats: it's no surpriseThat dastards, who as "scraps of paper" rateTheir solemn Treaties, would thus lie in waitAnd murder innocents without emotion,Making a shambles of the outraged Ocean.Now lashed to fury, see the waves rebelAnd sweep these Prussian Pirates down to Hell!No longer neutral the Avenging SwordIs in our hands to smite the Hun-hound horde.The God of Joshua, in righteous wrathWill, in its flight thru empyrean path,Command the Sun to stop: it is His will!TillKulturbe effaced—and not until.

But now these "Cargo Craft" throw off disguise

And cut our neutral throats: it's no surprise

That dastards, who as "scraps of paper" rate

Their solemn Treaties, would thus lie in wait

And murder innocents without emotion,

Making a shambles of the outraged Ocean.

Now lashed to fury, see the waves rebel

And sweep these Prussian Pirates down to Hell!

No longer neutral the Avenging Sword

Is in our hands to smite the Hun-hound horde.

The God of Joshua, in righteous wrath

Will, in its flight thru empyrean path,

Command the Sun to stop: it is His will!

TillKulturbe effaced—and not until.

America, Crusader in the CauseOf Liberty, before thy shrine we pauseAnd offer grateful prayer that thou art RightIn making demonstration of thy Might.Without a thought of Conquest doth thou drawThine honored sword for Liberty and Law,That Nations of a common tongue, tho weak,May gain the Peace with Freedom that they seek;And occupy again, when battles cease,Their places in the Firmament of Peace.Fight on! Defender of the Cause! till TruthShall banish Tyranny and Wars forsooth,And throttleKulturand its godless School,Till Teutons, purged, obey the Golden Rule!

America, Crusader in the Cause

Of Liberty, before thy shrine we pause

And offer grateful prayer that thou art Right

In making demonstration of thy Might.

Without a thought of Conquest doth thou draw

Thine honored sword for Liberty and Law,

That Nations of a common tongue, tho weak,

May gain the Peace with Freedom that they seek;

And occupy again, when battles cease,

Their places in the Firmament of Peace.

Fight on! Defender of the Cause! till Truth

Shall banish Tyranny and Wars forsooth,

And throttleKulturand its godless School,

Till Teutons, purged, obey the Golden Rule!

Life is the Echo of the Buried Past;A Soul reclaimed, an Atom born anew:Its fire burns on, tho flickering at the last,And finds its grand fulfillment, Love, in you.

Life is the Echo of the Buried Past;

A Soul reclaimed, an Atom born anew:

Its fire burns on, tho flickering at the last,

And finds its grand fulfillment, Love, in you.

Why should we dread the Messenger of Death?Who comes as friend when sufferings beset,And gives surcease of pain with final breathSo that Life leaves, rejoiced, without regret.

Why should we dread the Messenger of Death?

Who comes as friend when sufferings beset,

And gives surcease of pain with final breath

So that Life leaves, rejoiced, without regret.

O, Hun, from what low beast didst thou descend?That thou shouldst have the lust to kill and rend;The bestial passion to enjoy the groansOf suffering victims, while you crunch their bonesOr gouge their eyes, that mutely plead in vainFor quick oblivion and ease from pain?Of ponderous cast and savage mien, what teat,With Hatred filled and Passion's fiery heat,Reared thee more wolf than man? ill-bred,—a curseTo thine own kind, and to the Universe!

O, Hun, from what low beast didst thou descend?

That thou shouldst have the lust to kill and rend;

The bestial passion to enjoy the groans

Of suffering victims, while you crunch their bones

Or gouge their eyes, that mutely plead in vain

For quick oblivion and ease from pain?

Of ponderous cast and savage mien, what teat,

With Hatred filled and Passion's fiery heat,

Reared thee more wolf than man? ill-bred,—a curse

To thine own kind, and to the Universe!

Italians, hold! Rienzi pleads againAgainst the Tyrants: hold if ye be men!Let not the foe despoil your fertile landsOr wrest historic treasures from your hands!Guard well your daughters! Shield your budding sons!Lest they be maimed or murdered by the Huns.Soldiers of Italy, would ye be slavesTo Teuton hordes? Behold the sacred gravesOf Garibaldi and your martyred deadWho made ye Freemen! Wouldst be slaves instead?The Alpine Passes that were yours are lost;Your Northern Rivers have been reached and crossed;Hold, Romans, hold! Halt further Teuton gains,And drive their looting legions from your plains!Hold! Men of Italy! Your wall of steelCan save fair Venice from the Despot's heel:Hold! Every man! for Honor, Country, Home—And for the Glory of Eternal Rome!

Italians, hold! Rienzi pleads again

Against the Tyrants: hold if ye be men!

Let not the foe despoil your fertile lands

Or wrest historic treasures from your hands!

Guard well your daughters! Shield your budding sons!

Lest they be maimed or murdered by the Huns.

Soldiers of Italy, would ye be slaves

To Teuton hordes? Behold the sacred graves

Of Garibaldi and your martyred dead

Who made ye Freemen! Wouldst be slaves instead?

The Alpine Passes that were yours are lost;

Your Northern Rivers have been reached and crossed;

Hold, Romans, hold! Halt further Teuton gains,

And drive their looting legions from your plains!

Hold! Men of Italy! Your wall of steel

Can save fair Venice from the Despot's heel:

Hold! Every man! for Honor, Country, Home—

And for the Glory of Eternal Rome!

The Lamb that accompanied MaryWithout aid of cudgel or rope,Was raised by her sire Elder Berry,And washed with dioxygen soap.Its fleece, like the linen-spread table,Was snow-white: the lambkin was prizedAnd kept from the sheep in the stableWho never were deodorized.The lamb had a yearning for knowledge,And schoolward would follow the lassTill she was admitted to college,A graduate out of his class.Then sheep-eyes were made by the teacher,And Mary was quick to decide'Twixt him and the poor, woolly creatureWho made lambentations and died.She married her Teacher,—a lesson!Dyspeptic and old, he's a fright!Her thoughts fail of fitting expression,So she lams her own kids just for spite.She looks at her spouse with deep loathing,And sighs for her dead quadruped,And wishes the "wolf in sheep's clothing"—Her husband, were dead in his stead.Alas, lass! You've forded the ferry;Your tombstone was graven for two;The lamb, chiseled there, stands for Mary,And theOld EnglishMaryfor yew.The lamb reached the end of his tetherWhen Mary ascended on High,But surely, in spite of the wether,They'll meet in the Sweet Bye-and-Bye.

The Lamb that accompanied MaryWithout aid of cudgel or rope,Was raised by her sire Elder Berry,And washed with dioxygen soap.

The Lamb that accompanied Mary

Without aid of cudgel or rope,

Was raised by her sire Elder Berry,

And washed with dioxygen soap.

Its fleece, like the linen-spread table,Was snow-white: the lambkin was prizedAnd kept from the sheep in the stableWho never were deodorized.

Its fleece, like the linen-spread table,

Was snow-white: the lambkin was prized

And kept from the sheep in the stable

Who never were deodorized.

The lamb had a yearning for knowledge,And schoolward would follow the lassTill she was admitted to college,A graduate out of his class.

The lamb had a yearning for knowledge,

And schoolward would follow the lass

Till she was admitted to college,

A graduate out of his class.

Then sheep-eyes were made by the teacher,And Mary was quick to decide'Twixt him and the poor, woolly creatureWho made lambentations and died.

Then sheep-eyes were made by the teacher,

And Mary was quick to decide

'Twixt him and the poor, woolly creature

Who made lambentations and died.

She married her Teacher,—a lesson!Dyspeptic and old, he's a fright!Her thoughts fail of fitting expression,So she lams her own kids just for spite.She looks at her spouse with deep loathing,And sighs for her dead quadruped,And wishes the "wolf in sheep's clothing"—

She married her Teacher,—a lesson!

Dyspeptic and old, he's a fright!

Her thoughts fail of fitting expression,

So she lams her own kids just for spite.

She looks at her spouse with deep loathing,

And sighs for her dead quadruped,

And wishes the "wolf in sheep's clothing"—

Her husband, were dead in his stead.Alas, lass! You've forded the ferry;Your tombstone was graven for two;The lamb, chiseled there, stands for Mary,And theOld EnglishMaryfor yew.The lamb reached the end of his tetherWhen Mary ascended on High,But surely, in spite of the wether,They'll meet in the Sweet Bye-and-Bye.

Her husband, were dead in his stead.

Alas, lass! You've forded the ferry;

Your tombstone was graven for two;

The lamb, chiseled there, stands for Mary,

And theOld EnglishMaryfor yew.

The lamb reached the end of his tether

When Mary ascended on High,

But surely, in spite of the wether,

They'll meet in the Sweet Bye-and-Bye.

I shot an arrow: how it sang!It was a poisoned arrow!And when it turned, a boomerang,It chilled me to the marrow.I know not where the arrow struck,And care but little whetherIt came straight back or ran amuckUpon the near-by heather.ButthisI know; however fastThe arrow homeward scurried,My getaway was unsurpassed—For, Goodness, how I hurried!

I shot an arrow: how it sang!It was a poisoned arrow!And when it turned, a boomerang,It chilled me to the marrow.

I shot an arrow: how it sang!

It was a poisoned arrow!

And when it turned, a boomerang,

It chilled me to the marrow.

I know not where the arrow struck,And care but little whetherIt came straight back or ran amuckUpon the near-by heather.

I know not where the arrow struck,

And care but little whether

It came straight back or ran amuck

Upon the near-by heather.

ButthisI know; however fastThe arrow homeward scurried,My getaway was unsurpassed—For, Goodness, how I hurried!

ButthisI know; however fast

The arrow homeward scurried,

My getaway was unsurpassed—

For, Goodness, how I hurried!

The almost-King of Verdun, still uncrowned,Wearied ofdriving, walked the ramparts 'roundTo see his father, Mr. William Kaiser,Who was to him an Oracle and wiser."O Sire! Inform me! Tell your first-born son,Who caused the War, and why it was begun?Who slipped the leash, and what was the excuseFor turning Europe's rabid War Dogs loose?Did you? Or was it Cousin George, or NickWho stacked the cards and played the dirty trick?Or was it Joe, or Ferdinand, or GreyWho sawed the bridge and pulled the props away?""My Son, I swear by all the periscopesAnd Zeppelins to which I pin my hopes;By all the Ocean Sharks and Bats a-sky,By Gott-in-Himmel! As I hope to die,I'mnot to blame! I didn't use the spurs,Or try to overwork Geographers!I fought for Peace, and ne'er defiance hurled,Altho' the Fatherlandshouldrule the world.But here's the truth: a secret I'll disclose!A stranger 'twas who made us come to blows!It happened thus: a mighty Nimrod cameFrom Afric wilds, where he had played the gameUntil his cudgel bore a hundred nicks,(A record this for all Prodigious Sticks)To Germany. No pussyfoot was his,But there was courage in his Nobel phiz;And in his stride were energy and graceEnough to make the goose-step commonplace.I took him to my Palace, as my guest,And poured libations from the cellar'sbest,(He was acertifiednon-drinker—See?So just accord this proper secrecy!)And then arranged to hold a Grand ReviewOf all my Armies and Reservists too.'De-lighted!' said my guest, and nothing more,As we reviewed my legions corps by corps;But this blunt comment signified his zeal,And so I mobilized my fleet at Kiel;And on my Royal Yacht, my guest and IWatched the maneuvres as my ships passed by.'De-lighted, Bill!' the Hardy Hunter shouted—'With such a fleet I'd have the whole world routed;And with your armies I would soon disperseThe Fighting Units of the Universe!'Such praise was pleasing to my ears, althoMy Wasps and Devil-fish I didn't show:I deemed it best tomeldthis 'hundred aces'When all my ships and men were in their places.Had he seenthese, I knew he would adviseThe conquest of the Earth and Seas and Skies:But, Shades of Bismarck!that, you understandMight prove a strain upon the Fatherland.And so I kept the Peace, but thought aboutThe many martial plans we figured out;And how the cost of my Frontier DefencesCompared with his proposed campaign expenses.You see, Mein Heir, this man was full of guileAnd caused the War: this Bey of Oyster Isle.He hypnotized me: put it in my mindTo be the Potentate of all Mankind!So blame me not! The fault I must disown,And put the guilt on Theodore alone!Whatever comes anon, I'm not whipped yet!And with it all, I have but one regret—Thathewas not impressed to lead my driveTo Petersburg to take the Czar alive;And then, a Marshal, ordered to PareeTo capture it and bring it back to me;Then take my fleet, the English Channel overAnd put King George to rout and bombard Dover;And then supplant the Sultan, take his FezAnd lead my peerless Forces to Suez.Whileyouhave failed, and Hindenburg and Mack,Henever fizzles when he makes attack.See what I've missed! for,see what he has done!And yet his vast campaign is just begun.He leads his Legions, Bull Moose, Calf and CowTo capture a Conventioneven now."An orderly approached the Royal PairJust at this stage and left despatches there.He stood at close attention, hand to head,While this absorbing cablegram was read—"Outflanked and captured; resignation tendered;Mooses dehorned and all the herd surrendered!Am looking for another job already,—Would take the German Presidency—Teddy."The Kaiser turned, looked at the Prince and wept,While noxious gases o'er the bulwarks crept.

The almost-King of Verdun, still uncrowned,

Wearied ofdriving, walked the ramparts 'round

To see his father, Mr. William Kaiser,

Who was to him an Oracle and wiser.

"O Sire! Inform me! Tell your first-born son,

Who caused the War, and why it was begun?

Who slipped the leash, and what was the excuse

For turning Europe's rabid War Dogs loose?

Did you? Or was it Cousin George, or Nick

Who stacked the cards and played the dirty trick?

Or was it Joe, or Ferdinand, or Grey

Who sawed the bridge and pulled the props away?"

"My Son, I swear by all the periscopesAnd Zeppelins to which I pin my hopes;By all the Ocean Sharks and Bats a-sky,By Gott-in-Himmel! As I hope to die,I'mnot to blame! I didn't use the spurs,Or try to overwork Geographers!I fought for Peace, and ne'er defiance hurled,Altho' the Fatherlandshouldrule the world.But here's the truth: a secret I'll disclose!A stranger 'twas who made us come to blows!It happened thus: a mighty Nimrod cameFrom Afric wilds, where he had played the gameUntil his cudgel bore a hundred nicks,(A record this for all Prodigious Sticks)To Germany. No pussyfoot was his,But there was courage in his Nobel phiz;And in his stride were energy and graceEnough to make the goose-step commonplace.I took him to my Palace, as my guest,And poured libations from the cellar'sbest,(He was acertifiednon-drinker—See?So just accord this proper secrecy!)And then arranged to hold a Grand ReviewOf all my Armies and Reservists too.'De-lighted!' said my guest, and nothing more,As we reviewed my legions corps by corps;But this blunt comment signified his zeal,And so I mobilized my fleet at Kiel;And on my Royal Yacht, my guest and IWatched the maneuvres as my ships passed by.'De-lighted, Bill!' the Hardy Hunter shouted—'With such a fleet I'd have the whole world routed;And with your armies I would soon disperseThe Fighting Units of the Universe!'Such praise was pleasing to my ears, althoMy Wasps and Devil-fish I didn't show:I deemed it best tomeldthis 'hundred aces'When all my ships and men were in their places.Had he seenthese, I knew he would adviseThe conquest of the Earth and Seas and Skies:But, Shades of Bismarck!that, you understandMight prove a strain upon the Fatherland.And so I kept the Peace, but thought aboutThe many martial plans we figured out;And how the cost of my Frontier DefencesCompared with his proposed campaign expenses.You see, Mein Heir, this man was full of guileAnd caused the War: this Bey of Oyster Isle.He hypnotized me: put it in my mindTo be the Potentate of all Mankind!So blame me not! The fault I must disown,And put the guilt on Theodore alone!Whatever comes anon, I'm not whipped yet!And with it all, I have but one regret—Thathewas not impressed to lead my driveTo Petersburg to take the Czar alive;And then, a Marshal, ordered to PareeTo capture it and bring it back to me;Then take my fleet, the English Channel overAnd put King George to rout and bombard Dover;And then supplant the Sultan, take his FezAnd lead my peerless Forces to Suez.Whileyouhave failed, and Hindenburg and Mack,Henever fizzles when he makes attack.See what I've missed! for,see what he has done!And yet his vast campaign is just begun.He leads his Legions, Bull Moose, Calf and CowTo capture a Conventioneven now."

"My Son, I swear by all the periscopes

And Zeppelins to which I pin my hopes;

By all the Ocean Sharks and Bats a-sky,

By Gott-in-Himmel! As I hope to die,

I'mnot to blame! I didn't use the spurs,

Or try to overwork Geographers!

I fought for Peace, and ne'er defiance hurled,

Altho' the Fatherlandshouldrule the world.

But here's the truth: a secret I'll disclose!

A stranger 'twas who made us come to blows!

It happened thus: a mighty Nimrod came

From Afric wilds, where he had played the game

Until his cudgel bore a hundred nicks,

(A record this for all Prodigious Sticks)

To Germany. No pussyfoot was his,

But there was courage in his Nobel phiz;

And in his stride were energy and grace

Enough to make the goose-step commonplace.

I took him to my Palace, as my guest,

And poured libations from the cellar'sbest,

(He was acertifiednon-drinker—See?

So just accord this proper secrecy!)

And then arranged to hold a Grand Review

Of all my Armies and Reservists too.

'De-lighted!' said my guest, and nothing more,

As we reviewed my legions corps by corps;

But this blunt comment signified his zeal,

And so I mobilized my fleet at Kiel;

And on my Royal Yacht, my guest and I

Watched the maneuvres as my ships passed by.

'De-lighted, Bill!' the Hardy Hunter shouted—

'With such a fleet I'd have the whole world routed;

And with your armies I would soon disperse

The Fighting Units of the Universe!'

Such praise was pleasing to my ears, altho

My Wasps and Devil-fish I didn't show:

I deemed it best tomeldthis 'hundred aces'

When all my ships and men were in their places.

Had he seenthese, I knew he would advise

The conquest of the Earth and Seas and Skies:

But, Shades of Bismarck!that, you understand

Might prove a strain upon the Fatherland.

And so I kept the Peace, but thought about

The many martial plans we figured out;

And how the cost of my Frontier Defences

Compared with his proposed campaign expenses.

You see, Mein Heir, this man was full of guile

And caused the War: this Bey of Oyster Isle.

He hypnotized me: put it in my mind

To be the Potentate of all Mankind!

So blame me not! The fault I must disown,

And put the guilt on Theodore alone!

Whatever comes anon, I'm not whipped yet!

And with it all, I have but one regret—

Thathewas not impressed to lead my drive

To Petersburg to take the Czar alive;

And then, a Marshal, ordered to Paree

To capture it and bring it back to me;

Then take my fleet, the English Channel over

And put King George to rout and bombard Dover;

And then supplant the Sultan, take his Fez

And lead my peerless Forces to Suez.

Whileyouhave failed, and Hindenburg and Mack,

Henever fizzles when he makes attack.

See what I've missed! for,see what he has done!

And yet his vast campaign is just begun.

He leads his Legions, Bull Moose, Calf and Cow

To capture a Conventioneven now."

An orderly approached the Royal PairJust at this stage and left despatches there.He stood at close attention, hand to head,While this absorbing cablegram was read—"Outflanked and captured; resignation tendered;Mooses dehorned and all the herd surrendered!Am looking for another job already,—Would take the German Presidency—Teddy."

An orderly approached the Royal Pair

Just at this stage and left despatches there.

He stood at close attention, hand to head,

While this absorbing cablegram was read—

"Outflanked and captured; resignation tendered;

Mooses dehorned and all the herd surrendered!

Am looking for another job already,—

Would take the German Presidency—Teddy."

The Kaiser turned, looked at the Prince and wept,While noxious gases o'er the bulwarks crept.

The Kaiser turned, looked at the Prince and wept,

While noxious gases o'er the bulwarks crept.

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