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World WarsU S Destroyer _osmond C Ingram_If you were standing on the deck of a patrol boat watching fo... November 11 1918 Sinners are said sometimes to repent and change their ways at... The United States At War--in France Adapted with a few omissions and changes in language from the... Redeemed Italy Italy, since 1860 at least, has cherished the dream that some... To Wish To Take Away One From The Immortal Glory Which Belongs to the Allied armies, nor from the undying gratitude which we o... Nations Born And Reborn In America, and in many other countries, people have listened... Fighting A Depth Bomb All who have read of the sinking of the Lusitania, by a torpe... The United States Marines Our flag's unfurled to every breeze From dawn to setti... Joyce Kilmer The first poet and author in the American army to give up his... The Turning Of The Tide A division of marines and other American troops were rushed t... Blocking The Channel Bruges is an important city of Belgium made familiar to Ameri... The Secret Service The United States did not declare war till nearly three years... The Quality Of Mercy There is an old saying, Like king, like people, which means t... Pershing At The Tomb Of Lafayette They knew they were fighting our war. As the months gr... The Fleet That Lost Its Soul Sailors and especially fighters on the sea have in all ages p... The Second Line Of Defense In Norwich, England, stands a memorial which will forever be ... The Yank The boche went into the war as a robber, the poilu as a crusa... Where The Tide Turned It is the general impression that the tide of victory set in ... Vive La France 1 The determination of the people of Alsace and Lorraine not ... The United States At War--at Home When any nation declares war, it immediately brings upon itse... |
TreesI think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in summer wear A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree. JOYCE KILMER. Next: Blocking The Channel Previous: Joyce Kilmer
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