Kitabı oku: «The Bee's Bayonet (a Little Honey and a Little Sting)», sayfa 3

A RETROSPECT

 
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.
 

THE EAGLE SCREAMS

 
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
Of pour la tea or 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 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.
 
 
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

 
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:
Some day! when we're thru with fighting
And the beaten Hun retreats;
When the Cooties cease from biting
And we sleep between the sheets!
 

THE CRUISE OF THE SEA SERPENT

 
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 it unter: 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 its eye to 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 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!
Till Kultur be effaced—and not until.
 

AMERICA

 
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 throttle Kultur and its godless School,
Till Teutons, purged, obey the Golden Rule!
 

LIFE AND LOVE

 
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 IN DEATH

 
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.
 

GERMANY

 
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!
 

ITALY

 
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!
 

MARY IS MERRY NO MORE

 
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 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 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 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"—
 
 
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 the Old English Mary for 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

 
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 whether
It came straight back or ran amuck
Upon the near-by heather.
 
 
But this I know; however fast
The arrow homeward scurried,
My getaway was unsurpassed—
For, Goodness, how I hurried!
 

FIXING THE BLAME

 
The almost-King of Verdun, still uncrowned,
Wearied of driving, 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 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'm not to blame! I didn't use the spurs,
Or try to overwork Geographers!
I fought for Peace, and ne'er defiance hurled,
Altho' the Fatherland should rule 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's best,
(He was a certified non-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 to meld this 'hundred aces'
When all my ships and men were in their places.
Had he seen these, 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—
That he was 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.
While you have failed, and Hindenburg and Mack,
He never 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 Convention even now."
 
 
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.
 

LOVE'S RECOMPENSE

 
"Do you really, truly love me, with a love that mocks at Fate?"
Cried the rustic, buxom maiden to her lover at the gate;
"Yes, my Pet! And when Dame Fortune smiles upon us we will wed;
I will strew your path with roses: Bear me witness, Gods o'erhead!"
Thus he spake unto his sweetheart, under Heaven's starry blue,
And the angels, smiling on him, heard his vow to "e'er be true."
Then he placed his arms around her—kissed her: they were in a trance!
And two soles toward Heav'n were lifted as the bulldog grabbed his pants.
 

ADAM'S ALE

 
Come, Comrades, gather 'round the festal board
And quaff the sparkling Water from the gourd!
This is the drink that Adam's Tribe imbibed
Before the Wines of Gath were diatribed.
(Methinks some other brand was drunk by Cain
The day that Abel ruthlessly was slain.)
And won, against all other potions there,
The First White Ribbon at the Gaza Fair.
You'll never know, until you take a sip
Its power to soothe, and cool the fevered lip.
Had Noah stuck to water he would shine
As undisputed Master of the Brine.
The Water-wagon that he launched, at first
Steered Noah straight but didn't cure his thirst:
So when he spoke the Ararat Café
He soon fell off,—his rudder washed away.
But wallward turn the picture you're beholding
And hang more cheerful paintings on the moulding!
Behold a watercolor of eclat!
This, fair Rebecca had the skill to draw:
She stands beside the well and plies the sweep,
While sweat and blushes o'er her features creep.
Such grace and poise, such strength and skill,
Such sweeping gestures and unbending will
Are indices of Abstinence complete;
(We can't abstain from loving you, Petite!)
Upon her head she rests the dripping urn
And goes straight home: she doesn't dare to turn!
Don't stumble, Miss! Or suffer teasing boys
To cause derangement of your equipoise!
But keep your head and waver not at all
Lest you be deluged by the waterfall!
So daily to the pool Rebecca strayed
And drank the water, when she didn't wade:
And thus her framework waxed like iron; I trust
'Twas ne'er assailed or undermined by rust.
So, fill the gourd and pass it to your friend!
It's Safety First and safety to the end.
No headaches lurk within, no tinge of sorrow,
No dark forebodings or remorse to-morrow!
And furthermore, it isn't hard to take:
If you've not tried it, do, for Mercy's sake!
Behold the Oaken Bucket, hanging high,
By Bards and Singers lauded to the sky.
It never touched, in all its useful days,
A thing but water. Here fair Psyche plays
Beside the spring that mirrors all her graces.
(Would you object to water in such cases?)
Now mark the fate befalling Jack and Jill
Because they slipped and let the water spill;
And see poor Tantalus for water crying,
Thus punished for his sins,—athirst and dying!
And note this "Titian," called "The Drunkard's Fate,"
In which the crimson hues predominate.
He holds the lamp-post in his close embrace
And has a package from Pat Murphy's place
To carry home. His eyes are red and dim,
So close the bar and turn the hose on him!
This drink was ever priceless, yet it's free;
The Source and Fountain of Sobriety;
And so we offer without bar or price
Enough of THIS to put your thirst on ice.
So drink to WATER, while the billows swell:
The World wants Prohibition—and all's WELL!