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World WarsThe Fleet That Lost Its SoulSailors and especially fighters on the sea have in all ages p... The Miner And The Tiger On an October day in 1866, David Lloyd George, then a little ... The Yank The boche went into the war as a robber, the poilu as a crusa... Where Are You Going Great-heart? Where are you going, Great-Heart, With your eager face... Duty So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is God to man... The United States At War--in France Adapted with a few omissions and changes in language from the... Song Of The Aviator (This poem was written for an entertainment given by the Y.M.... Where The Four Winds Meet There are songs of the north and songs of the south, A... The Secret Service The United States did not declare war till nearly three years... Nations Born And Reborn In America, and in many other countries, people have listened... The Quality Of Mercy There is an old saying, Like king, like people, which means t... Vive La France 1 The determination of the people of Alsace and Lorraine not ... President Wilson In France On December 14, 1918, President Wilson arrived in Paris. He ... Sergeant York Of Tennessee People will always differ as to what was the most remarkable ... The Kaiser's Crown (VERSAILLES, JANUARY 18, 1871) The wind on the Thames ... Alsace-lorraine On slight pretext, Germany in 1864 and in 1866 had made wars ... Harry Lauder Sings Harry Lauder, an extremely popular Scotch singer and entertai... America Comes In We are coming from the ranch, from the city and the mine, ... The Soldiers Who Go To Sea If the army or the navy ever gaze on Heaven's scenes, Th... Joyce Kilmer The first poet and author in the American army to give up his... |
The Call To Arms In Our StreetThere's a woman sobs her heart out, With her head against the door, For the man that's called to leave her, --God have pity on the poor! But it's beat, drums, beat, While the lads march down the street, And it's blow, trumpets, blow, Keep your tears until they go. There's a crowd of little children That march along and shout, For it's fine to play at soldiers Now their fathers are called out. So it's beat, drums, beat; And who will find them food to eat? And it's blow, trumpets, blow, Oh, it's little children know. * * * * * There's a young girl who stands laughing, For she thinks a war is grand, And it's fine to see the lads pass, And it's fine to hear the band. So it's beat, drums, beat, To the fall of many feet; And it's blow, trumpets, blow, God go with you where you go. W. M. LETTS. Next: The Kaiser's Crown Previous: Vive La France 1
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