Eagle Quills
FRATERNITY
As I lounged in my study yesternight, While the old fashioned grate poured forth its heat, With restfully quiet embers alight, My weary eyelids closed as if to meet The future brotherhood of man.
Then clear in frames of blood stained lifeless flesh, Appeared torn faces of war crazed throngs Cursing fighting struggling, through barbed-wire mesh To gain their right to sing the song of songs, The righteous brotherhood of man.
And in the background of the fiendish strife, Huddled together with babes at their breast, Lay starved naked women slashed by the knife Of the hellish foe whose tortures attest They scorn the brotherhood of man.
Then a burst of light outlining a star
Shone into my aching soul like a sword, Bearing this message of strength from afar- "Strive unto death to make the barbrous horde Respect the brotherhood of man."
The bitter cold of the morn awoke me,-
Yet the joy of seeing God's beckning light
Fired my veins, and the lingring memory
Of the Bethlehem Star urged me to fight
To save the brotherhood of man.
THE WAYSIDE INN-1918
One last visit to Sudbury town, To that inn where once were told Tales by men of great renown, And history was handed down.
The cranes were swinging as of yore, O'er hearts begrimed with soot; Still burn the huge logs, and the floor Still creaks as guests come through the door.
Of stalwart men in buff and blue
We still leave memory, And in their stead have come to view Sons of their sons in khaki hue.
The old old spirit still holds sway-
The long hard fight to make men free; The old time yearning for the fray Still quickens hearts of men to-day.
Farewell then old inn for a spell, I am off to join the ranks! Some day I may come back and tell Great tales myself-if not farewell.
THE AVIATOR
Strong youth he was still in his teens, When war clouds rumbled from on high, And pondering deeply what best means To serve his land he chose to fly. Forthwith he gave his mind and strength To train acutely ear and eye- That he might prove his worth at length And win distinction in the sky.
Each day he strove with all his might; Each night when tests were done he'd lie Awake with planning every flight Which he on future days would try- For those were times when each man's fight Must be swoop down low then ply The foe with tools of death and night- To win distinction in the sky.
But ere his training was complete
A changing current rushing by-
An instant flare of scorching heat-
Engulfed his plane with whirring sigh, Swift to the earth in pain he fell, But he uttered neither pain nor cry- The stars mayhap have heard his knell- Who won distinction in the sky.
THE CROSS OF WAR
1913
Unto his cheerful homestead comes
The young member of Parliament; A happy chap who always hums His home song, where his love is spent Ah light of the civilized world.
1914
Unto the lonely homestead comes
A weeping wife with children three-
Her husband has followed the drums
Of his regiment over the sea. Ah slight of the civilized world.
1915
Unto the anxious household came
A message of the absent one. With sobs twas read her husband's name Was there "fell fighting at his gun." Ah plight of the civilized world.
1916
Unto the cheerless household came
A tiny box with medal red. Proclaiming loud its owner's fame- What recompense for loved one dead! Ah blight of the civilized world.
1917
Unto the saddened household came
A message from a younger land; "Have faith we come to save your name, We come to lend a helping hand." Ah fight of the civilized world.
1918
Unto the waiting household comes
The joyous peal of victory; Peace and rest are brought by the drums Of the men from over the sea. Ah might of the civilized world.
BELGIUM
If you had a sister and while she slept
A hideous monster silently crept
Up beside her to quench his vicious thirst
And being repulsed his passion was nursed
To fury he slashed her white neck across
A dastardly gash with a crimson gloss; Then dipped his foul hands in the sanguine flow And wiped them upon her soft tresses so; If you had a sister you have indeed Belgium the victim of Autocracy What would you do what will you do we want to see!
JOAN OF ARC
(From the French of Alfred de Musset)