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World Wars

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

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

Where The Four Winds Meet
There are songs of the north and songs of the south, A...

The Little Old Road
There's a breath of May in the breeze On the little ol...

Sergeant York Of Tennessee
People will always differ as to what was the most remarkable ...

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

A Carol From Flanders
1914 In Flanders on the Christmas morn The trench...

The United States At War--at Home
When any nation declares war, it immediately brings upon itse...

Pershing At The Tomb Of Lafayette
They knew they were fighting our war. As the months gr...

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

The United States At War--in France
Adapted with a few omissions and changes in language from the...

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

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

The Kaiser's Crown
(VERSAILLES, JANUARY 18, 1871) The wind on the Thames ...

The Soldiers Who Go To Sea
If the army or the navy ever gaze on Heaven's scenes, Th...

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

America Comes In
We are coming from the ranch, from the city and the mine, ...

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

The Unspeakable Turk
Although the great issues of the war were decided, and victor...

The Second Line Of Defense
In Norwich, England, stands a memorial which will forever be ...



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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