Columbia, my sister,
Republic great and free,
When Liberty was threatened
I looked in vain to thee;
That hope was vain, my sister,
You lost your greatest chance;
Men live on lies in Utah,
Men die for truth in France.
Columbia, my sister,
You saw my blood run red,
My sons and daughters murdered,
The tears my orphans shed;
You raised no voice in protest,
To stop the Hun's advance;
Men live at ease in Kansas,
With hell let loose in France.
Columbia, my sister,
Your children you have seen,
Drowned in the cruel ocean
By German submarine;
But baseball is important,
The theatre and dance,
And pleasure rules in Texas
While horror reigns in France.
Columbia, my sister,
In sordid love of gain
Your vultures and hyenas
Wax fat upon the slain;
The nations, sorrow stricken,
Receive your careless glance,
And wealth in Massachusetts
Means poverty in France.
Columbia, my sister,
I know your heart is right,
Though on your head has fallen
This hellish Hunnish blight;
I love you still, my sister,
And warn you, lest perchance
The Huns may rule Wisconsin
When driven out of France.
JIM'S SACRIFICE
Jim marched away one summer day
To fight the boastful Hun,
In khaki clad, as fine a lad
As ever carried gun,
No braver knight e'er went to fight,
In shining coat of mail,
In days of old, for love or gold,
Or for the Holy Grail.
His aim was sure, his heart was pure,
Like good Sir Galahad,
He played the game when hardships came
His face was always glad,
Until, by chance, somewhere in France,
He saw a "Hometown Sun,"
He read one page, then in a rage
He strafed it like a Hun.