War Rhymes | Page 5

strong, dad, that Britain almost lost, The war was
hard and long, dad, and none could count the cost. Our men were firm
and brave, dad, and freely shed their blood, And many found a grave,
dad, beneath the Flanders mud.
You never say a word, dad, about this awful fight;
Where is your
trusty sword, dad? let's get it out tonight. The other fellows brag, dad,
of what their dads have done, And Jim's dad has a flag, dad, he
captured from a Hun.
And Mr. Sandy Ross, dad, who works down at the mill,
Has a
Victoria Cross, dad, for fighting Kaiser Bill;
And little Tommy Dagg,
dad, the youngest of your clerks, Says his dad was at Bagdad, and shot
a hundred Turks.
When we go for a walk, dad, or take our flying car,
You never want

to talk, dad, about the mighty war;
Please talk to me tonight, dad,
before I go to bed,
Of when you went to fight, dad."
But dad hung down his head.
BLASTED HOPES
We hoped to end our troubled days
Far from the maddening strife,

Erstwhile to chortle roundelays
Of peaceful country life;
But now
the phone rings night and morn,
The trolleys crash and bang;
We
hear the fearsome auto horn
Where once the thrushes sang.
We hoped the children that we raised,
Those stalwart girls and boys;

Would follow in the trail we blazed
That selfish ease destroys;

But now, when men are needed so
To fight the mailed fist,
Our
girls won't let their husbands go,
Nor will our sons enlist.
We hoped the pirates all were dead,
Those horrid buccaneers,
Who
dyed the ocean's waves with red,
In wicked bygone years:
But now
we mourn, as happy days,
That sanguinary past,
Since Kaiser Bill a
hundred ways,
Has Captain Kidd outclassed.
We hoped that kings had wiser grown
Since Charles I. lost his head,

And Bonaparte was overthrown,
For painting Europe red;
But
now we have the greatest kill
Since cave men fought with stones.

Behold the Kaiser's butcher bill!
Ten million dead men's bones.
LANGEMARK
May, 1915
The maple leaf is stained with red,
Deeper than autumn's dye;
On
foreign fields our noble dead
Their valor testify.
Cut off, out-numbered, ten to one,
By wolfish German pack
Our
men like heroes fought and won,
They kept the Teutons back.

They held their post, they saved the day,
Those young lions from the
West;
What higher tribute can we pay,
"They fought like Britain's
best."
When reinforcements came at last,
Then woe betide the Huns,
From
man to man the word was passed
"We must retake the guns."
Mid rifle ball and poison bomb,
Shrapnel and shrieking shell,
And
all the hell of Kaiserdom,
They charged, while hundreds fell.
With fearless eye and ringing cheer
They made that wild advance,

For life was cheap and glory dear,
Those bloody days in France.
O, life is short to him who gives
Long years for selfish pay;
In
righteous cause, the soldier lives
A lifetime in a day.
THE CANADIAN ARMY
The news, "the Old Land's in it,"
Stirred us one August morn,
Then
waited not a minute
The fearless British born.
They were the first to
offer
To die for England's name
Scorning the shirking scoffer,

Who would not play the game.
But when the German Kaiser
Of victories could brag,
Canadians
got wiser
And rallied round the flag.
The Orangemen, stout-hearted,

The cheery lads in green,
When once the ball was started
In
khaki garb were seen.
A regiment of Tories,
A regiment of Grits,
Discarded party worries

To give the Kaiser fits.
Battalions of free thinkers
and regiments
of Jews
And some of water drinkers,
And some that hit the booze.
A regiment of Chinese,
A regiment of Yanks,
A regiment with fine
knees
And bare and brawny shanks,

A regiment of teachers
Who
laid aside the birch,
And one of sons of preachers,
A credit to the

Church.
A regiment of Colonels,
Who couldn't get a sit,
(To judge by their
externals
They're feeling fine and fit);
A regiment of slackers,
A
regiment of thieves,
And one of bold bushwhackers,
All wearing
maple leaves.
Battalions, too, of Frenchmen,
The breed that never yields,
Are
making splendid trench men,
On Belgium's bloody fields.

Battalions from the prairies
Now man the smoking tubes;
From
London and St. Marys,
A regiment of rubes.
Thus, to defend the nation,
They rallied to a man,
Our fighting
population
So cosmopolitan.
Not one from danger blenches,
They
vie in skill and pluck
And when they reach the trenches,
We call
them all Canuck.
FIGHT OR PAY
October, 1915
The cause of Freedom needs our help,
The Old Land's in the fray,

It's up to every lion's whelp
To either fight or pay.
The bloody Turk
and savage Hun
Still ravish, burn and slay,
Each loyal son must
man a gun,
Or stay at home and pay.
Our sisters, mothers, sweethearts, wives,
They nurse, and knit, and
pray,
Let men forego their selfish lives,
And either fight or pay.

The call is clear to sacrifice
Our life, our purse, our play;
Ere Honor
dies, let us arise
And either fight or pay.
"England expects from every man
His duty on this day."
'Twas thus
Lord Nelson's message ran
Ere he began the fray.
Shall we our
noble heritage,
See crumbling down like clay,
This goodly age, a
blotted page,
And neither fight nor pay?

Nay! While our British blood runs red,
Let those refuse who may,

We'll heed what mighty Nelson