"
Then "Vladimir Slaminsky!
Then "Vladimir Slaminsky!
Matthews - Poems of American Patriotism
_
The mother sits by Severn side,
Where Severn joins the Bay,
And great gray ships go down the tide
And carry her sons away.
They carry them far, they carry them wide,
To all the Seven Seas,
But never beyond her love and pride,
And ever the deathless tales abide
They learned at the Mother's knees.
Stern she is, as well becomes
The nurse of gentle men,
Who trains their tread to roll of drums,
Their hands to sword and pen.
Her iron-blooded arteries hold
No soft Corinthian strain;
The Attic soul in a Spartan mould,
Loyal and hardy, clean and bold,
Shall govern the roaring main.
They come from South, they come from North,
They come from East and West;
And who can say, when all go forth,
That any of these are best?
With names unknown, and names that won
Their fame in a hundred fights,
The admiral's son, and the ploughman's son,
Mothered by her, they all are one,
Her race of sailor knights.
Young and eager and unafraid,
As neophytes they kneeled
And watched their arms, and only prayed
"Keep stain from every shield. "
Naught else they fear as they hunt the foes
Through fog, and storm, and mine,
Keen for the joy of the battle blows;
But God make strong the hearts of those
Who love, and are left behind.
YANKS
JAMES W. FOLEY
[Sidenote: 1917-1918]
O'Leary, from Chicago, and a first-class fightin' man,
For his father was from Kerry, where the gentle art began:
Sergeant Dennis P. O'Leary, from somewhere on Archie Road,
Dodgin' shells and smellin' powder while the battle ebbed and
flowed.
And the captain says: "O'Leary, from your fightin' company
Pick a dozen fightin' Yankees and come skirmishin' with me;
Pick a dozen fightin' devils, and I know it's you who can. "
And O'Leary, he saluted like a first-class fightin' man.
O'Leary's eye was piercin' and O'Leary's voice was clear:
"Dimitri Georgoupoulos! " And Dimitri answered "Here!
"
Then "Vladimir Slaminsky! Step three paces to the front,
For we're wantin' you to join us in a little Heinie hunt! "
"Garibaldi Ravioli! " Garibaldi was to share;
And "Ole Axel Kettleson! " and "Thomas Scalp-the-Bear! "
Who was Choctaw by inheritance, bred in the blood and bones,
But set down in army records by the name of Thomas Jones.
"Van Winkle Schuyler Stuyvesant! " Van Winkle was a bud
From the ancient tree of Stuyvesant and had it in his blood;
"Don Miguel de Colombo! " Don Miguel's next of kin
Were across the Rio Grande when Don Miguel went in.
"Ulysses Grant O'Sheridan! " Ulysses' sire, you see,
Had been at Appomattox near the famous apple-tree;
And "Patrick Michael Casey! " Patrick Michael, you can tell,
Was a fightin' man by nature with three fightin' names as well.
"Joe Wheeler Lee! " And Joseph had a pair of fightin' eyes;
And his granddad was a Johnny, as perhaps you might surmise;
Then "Robert Bruce MacPherson! " And the Yankee squad was done
With "Isaac Abie Cohen! " once a lightweight champion.
The mother sits by Severn side,
Where Severn joins the Bay,
And great gray ships go down the tide
And carry her sons away.
They carry them far, they carry them wide,
To all the Seven Seas,
But never beyond her love and pride,
And ever the deathless tales abide
They learned at the Mother's knees.
Stern she is, as well becomes
The nurse of gentle men,
Who trains their tread to roll of drums,
Their hands to sword and pen.
Her iron-blooded arteries hold
No soft Corinthian strain;
The Attic soul in a Spartan mould,
Loyal and hardy, clean and bold,
Shall govern the roaring main.
They come from South, they come from North,
They come from East and West;
And who can say, when all go forth,
That any of these are best?
With names unknown, and names that won
Their fame in a hundred fights,
The admiral's son, and the ploughman's son,
Mothered by her, they all are one,
Her race of sailor knights.
Young and eager and unafraid,
As neophytes they kneeled
And watched their arms, and only prayed
"Keep stain from every shield. "
Naught else they fear as they hunt the foes
Through fog, and storm, and mine,
Keen for the joy of the battle blows;
But God make strong the hearts of those
Who love, and are left behind.
YANKS
JAMES W. FOLEY
[Sidenote: 1917-1918]
O'Leary, from Chicago, and a first-class fightin' man,
For his father was from Kerry, where the gentle art began:
Sergeant Dennis P. O'Leary, from somewhere on Archie Road,
Dodgin' shells and smellin' powder while the battle ebbed and
flowed.
And the captain says: "O'Leary, from your fightin' company
Pick a dozen fightin' Yankees and come skirmishin' with me;
Pick a dozen fightin' devils, and I know it's you who can. "
And O'Leary, he saluted like a first-class fightin' man.
O'Leary's eye was piercin' and O'Leary's voice was clear:
"Dimitri Georgoupoulos! " And Dimitri answered "Here!
"
Then "Vladimir Slaminsky! Step three paces to the front,
For we're wantin' you to join us in a little Heinie hunt! "
"Garibaldi Ravioli! " Garibaldi was to share;
And "Ole Axel Kettleson! " and "Thomas Scalp-the-Bear! "
Who was Choctaw by inheritance, bred in the blood and bones,
But set down in army records by the name of Thomas Jones.
"Van Winkle Schuyler Stuyvesant! " Van Winkle was a bud
From the ancient tree of Stuyvesant and had it in his blood;
"Don Miguel de Colombo! " Don Miguel's next of kin
Were across the Rio Grande when Don Miguel went in.
"Ulysses Grant O'Sheridan! " Ulysses' sire, you see,
Had been at Appomattox near the famous apple-tree;
And "Patrick Michael Casey! " Patrick Michael, you can tell,
Was a fightin' man by nature with three fightin' names as well.
"Joe Wheeler Lee! " And Joseph had a pair of fightin' eyes;
And his granddad was a Johnny, as perhaps you might surmise;
Then "Robert Bruce MacPherson! " And the Yankee squad was done
With "Isaac Abie Cohen! " once a lightweight champion.
