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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...

Alsace-lorraine
On slight pretext, Germany in 1864 and in 1866 had made wars ...

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

The First To Fall In Battle
During the trench warfare, it was customary to raid the enemy...

Just Before The Tide Turned
On the 27th of last May the Germans broke through the French ...

When The Tide Turned
THE AMERICAN ATTACK AT CHATEAU-THIERRY AND BELLEAU WOOD IN TH...

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

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

The Poilu
The soldier of France, the poilu, is a crusader. He is fight...

The United States Marines
Our flag's unfurled to every breeze From dawn to setti...

The Yank
The boche went into the war as a robber, the poilu as a crusa...

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

The Fleet That Lost Its Soul
Sailors and especially fighters on the sea have in all ages p...

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

Why The United States Entered The War
The United States was slow to enter the war, because her peop...

A Boy Of Perugia
In the year 1500, Raphael was a boy of eighteen in Perugia wo...

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

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

Bombing Metz
ADAPTED FROM THE ACCOUNT WRITTEN BY RAOUL LUFBERY In Janua...



Song Of The Aviator






(This poem was written for an entertainment given by the Y.M.C.A. at
an aviation barracks in a large camp in France. Mrs. Wilcox addressed
five hundred aviators, and these verses were recited with great effect
by Mrs. May Randall. After the entertainment there was a rush to
obtain autographed copies of the poem.)

You may thrill with the speed of your thoroughbred steed,
You may laugh with delight as you ride the ocean,
You may rush afar in your touring car,
Leaping, sweeping by things that are creeping--
But you never will know the joy of motion
Till you rise up over the earth some day
And soar like an eagle, away--away.

High and higher, above each spire,
Till lost to sight is the tallest steeple,
With the winds you chase in a valiant race,
Looping, swooping, where mountains are grouping,
Hailing them comrades, in place of people.
Oh, vast is the rapture the bird man knows
As into the ether he mounts and goes.

He is over the sphere of human fear;
He has come into touch with things supernal.
At each man's gate death stands await;
And dying flying were better than lying
In sick beds crying for life eternal.
Better to fly halfway to God
Than to burrow too long like a worm in the sod.

ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.





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