WAR POEM. War Poem. TRIKE for the Anglo-Saxon ! STRIK Strike for the Newer Day! Oh, strike for Heart, and strike for Brain, And sweep the Beast away. Not only for our sailors, The heroes of the Maine, But strike for all the victims Not only for the Present, But all the Bloody Past, Old stronghold of the Darkness, Spain is an ancient dragon, That all too long hath curled Its coils of blood and darkness About the new-born world. Think of the Inquisition ! Think of the Netherlands ! And let no feeble pity Your sacred arms restrain. This is God's mighty moment To make an end of Spain. - Richard La Gallienne. THE VOLUNTEER The Volunteer. THE 'HE band was playing "Dixie " when he marched, marched away; An' never any likelier lad stept time to it that day; "The finest fellow of 'em all!" I heard the town folk say. The band was playin' "Dixie" as he marched, marched away. How fast my wild arms held him, my boy, who The likeliest lad that answered to the captain's call that day! "The finest fellow of 'em all!" An' in the red array Of flags that rippled over them they marched my lad away! But a mother's fears and prayers and tears were nothing. War must slay, And the draped, deep drums were muffled as they brought him home that day! "The finest fellow of 'em all!" I heard the town folk say, And his mother bendin' over him,-dead at her feet that day! - Frank L. Stanton. Regiment Song. HE old flag is a-doin' of her very level best, — THE She's a rainbow roun' the country from the rosy east to west; An' the eagle's in the elements with sunshine on his breast, An' we're marchin' with the country in the mornin'! We're marchin' to the music that is ringin' fur an nigh; You kin hear the hallelujahs as the regiments go by; We'll live for this old country, or in Freedom's cause we'll die, We're marchin' with the country in the mornin'! - Frank L. Stanton. |