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Waiting For The Flash
Not at once can the mind grasp the full significance of the w...

Trees
I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. ...

Song Of The Aviator
(This poem was written for an entertainment given by the Y.M....

The Really Invincible Armada
The northern coast of Scotland is about as far north as the s...

A Congressional Message
FROM PRESIDENT WILSON'S ANNUAL ADDRESS TO CONGRESS DECEMBE...

At The Front
What one soldier writes, millions have experienced. At f...

Blocking The Channel
Bruges is an important city of Belgium made familiar to Ameri...

The Capture Of Dun
After the Americans had cleared the Saint Mihiel salient, Mar...

Vive La France 1
The determination of the people of Alsace and Lorraine not ...

The Searchlights
Political morality differs from individual morality, because ...

November 11 1918
Sinners are said sometimes to repent and change their ways at...

Redeemed Italy
Italy, since 1860 at least, has cherished the dream that some...

Where The Tide Turned
It is the general impression that the tide of victory set in ...

The Turning Of The Tide
A division of marines and other American troops were rushed t...

Four Soldiers
THE BOCHE The boche was chiefly what his masters made him....

The Call To Arms In Our Street
There's a woman sobs her heart out, With her head agains...

United States Day
United States Day was celebrated in Paris on April 20, 1918. ...

The Quality Of Mercy
There is an old saying, Like king, like people, which means t...

The Secret Service
The United States did not declare war till nearly three years...

The Miner And The Tiger
On an October day in 1866, David Lloyd George, then a little ...



After-days






When the last gun has long withheld
Its thunder, and its mouth is sealed,
Strong men shall drive the furrow straight
On some remembered battlefield.

Untroubled they shall hear the loud
And gusty driving of the rains,
And birds with immemorial voice
Sing as of old in leafy lanes.

The stricken, tainted soil shall be
Again a flowery paradise--
Pure with the memory of the dead
And purer for their sacrifice.

ERIC CHILMAN






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