" once a
lightweight
champion.
Matthews - Poems of American Patriotism
"
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.
Then O'Leary paced 'em forward and, says he: "You Yanks, fall in! "
And he marched 'em to the captain. "Let the skirmishin' begin. "
Says he, "The Yanks are comin', and you beat 'em if you can! "
And saluted like a soldier and first-class fightin' man!
ANY WOMAN TO A SOLDIER
GRACE ELLERY CHANNING
[Sidenote: 1917, 1918]
The day you march away--let the sun shine,
Let everything be blue and gold and fair,
Triumph of trumpets calling through bright air,
Flags slanting, flowers flaunting--not a sign
That the unbearable is now to bear,
The day you march away.
The day you march away--this I have sworn,
No matter what comes after, that shall be
Hid secretly between my soul and me
As women hide the unborn--
You shall see brows like banners, lips that frame
Smiles, for the pride those lips have in your name.
You shall see soldiers in my eyes that day--
That day, O soldier, when you march away.
The day you march away--cannot I guess?
There will be ranks and ranks, all leading on
To one white face, and then--the white face gone,
And nothing left but a gray emptiness--
Blurred moving masses, faceless, featureless--
The day you march away.
TO PEACE, WITH VICTORY
CORINNE ROOSEVELT ROBINSON
[Sidenote: November 11, 1918]
I could not welcome you, oh! longed-for peace,
Unless your coming had been heralded
By victory. The legions who have bled
Had elsewise died in vain for our release.
But now that you come sternly, let me kneel
And pay my tribute to the myriad dead,
Who counted not the blood that they have shed
Against the goal their valor shall reveal.
Ah!
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.
Then O'Leary paced 'em forward and, says he: "You Yanks, fall in! "
And he marched 'em to the captain. "Let the skirmishin' begin. "
Says he, "The Yanks are comin', and you beat 'em if you can! "
And saluted like a soldier and first-class fightin' man!
ANY WOMAN TO A SOLDIER
GRACE ELLERY CHANNING
[Sidenote: 1917, 1918]
The day you march away--let the sun shine,
Let everything be blue and gold and fair,
Triumph of trumpets calling through bright air,
Flags slanting, flowers flaunting--not a sign
That the unbearable is now to bear,
The day you march away.
The day you march away--this I have sworn,
No matter what comes after, that shall be
Hid secretly between my soul and me
As women hide the unborn--
You shall see brows like banners, lips that frame
Smiles, for the pride those lips have in your name.
You shall see soldiers in my eyes that day--
That day, O soldier, when you march away.
The day you march away--cannot I guess?
There will be ranks and ranks, all leading on
To one white face, and then--the white face gone,
And nothing left but a gray emptiness--
Blurred moving masses, faceless, featureless--
The day you march away.
TO PEACE, WITH VICTORY
CORINNE ROOSEVELT ROBINSON
[Sidenote: November 11, 1918]
I could not welcome you, oh! longed-for peace,
Unless your coming had been heralded
By victory. The legions who have bled
Had elsewise died in vain for our release.
But now that you come sternly, let me kneel
And pay my tribute to the myriad dead,
Who counted not the blood that they have shed
Against the goal their valor shall reveal.
Ah!
