"Wus dat you spoke, Or a fence rail broke?" Br'er Rabbit say to de Jay [50]W'en you don't speak sof', Y[=o]' baits comes off; An' de fish jes swim away. [50] The last three lines of the rhyme was a superstition c... Read more of Speak Softly at Martin Luther King.caInformational Site Network Informational
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The Fleet That Lost Its Soul
Sailors and especially fighters on the sea have in all ages p...

Nations Born And Reborn
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The Thirteenth Regiment
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November 11 1918
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The Miner And The Tiger
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Just Before The Tide Turned
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Trees
I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. ...

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

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

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

Fighting A Depth Bomb
All who have read of the sinking of the Lusitania, by a torpe...

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

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

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

America Enters The War
SPEECH BY LLOYD GEORGE, BRITISH PREMIER, APRIL 12, 1917 ...

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

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

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



Where The Four Winds Meet






There are songs of the north and songs of the south,
And songs of the east and west;
But the songs of the place where the four winds meet
Are the ones that we love the best.

And where do the four winds meet? you ask.
The answer is ready at hand--
Wherever our dear ones chance to be
By air, or by sea, or land.

So the sailor, keeping his midnight watch
'Mid icicles, snow, and sleet,
Can think of a village near Portsmouth town
As the place where the four winds meet.

And mother, perhaps, and sweetheart true
Pray hard for the North Sea Fleet,
And harder still for the boy who's gone
To his place, where the four winds meet.

And the man on guard at the firing-step,
'Mid star-shells shimmering down,
Can think of his home--where the four winds meet
In some sheltered English town.

And thoughts may fly to the distant trench,
Whatever its name or street,
For Somewhere in France seems far less vague
If we add, where the four winds meet.

And the pilot steers thro' the trackless waste
While the engines throb and beat,
Flouting surprise, with the army's eyes
High up where the four winds meet.

And to those who mourn comes a cheering cry,
Which the angels in heaven repeat,
Grieve not, brave hearts; we await you here--
Here, where the four winds meet.

There are songs of the north and songs of the south,
The east and the west complete;
But here is a song of the place we love,
Which is called, Where the four winds meet.

GEOFFREY DALRYMPLE NASH.

*******************





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