We despite the degenerate Yank
With his blood-spattered idol of gold,
Who, his birthright, for cash in the bank,
And political pottage has sold.
Then we send our poor boys to the war
With a prayer that they keep themselves clean,
And we purchase a shining new car,
Praying harder for cheap gasoline.
We detest the false Bulgars and Greeks;
They must learn to be true to their friends;
They have proved themselves traitors and sneaks,
Using war for their own selfish ends.
But our grafters their pockets may fill,
While valiantly waving the flag,
Caring nothing who settles the bill,
If they only get off with the swag.
We abhor the unspeakable Turk,
For his orgies of murder and shame,
His detestable devilish work
Done in honor of Allah's fair name;
Then we pray as the Pharisee prayed,
While afar off the publican stood,
But forget the Creator has made
All the children of men of one blood.
NURSE CAVELL
November, 1915
This world has spots made holy
By deeds or lives of love,
Has shrines where high and lowly
Alike, their hearts may prove;
This age, when faith might falter
Mid shriek of shot and shell,
Has added one more altar,
The grave of Nurse Cavell.
She cared for sick and dying,
Knew neither friend nor foe,
She spent her strength in trying
To heal a neighbor's woe.
For deeds by love inspired
The Kaiser's vengeance fell
On form so frail and tired,
Heroic Nurse Cavell.
What though the Prussian kultur
Now threatened her with death;
She met the screaming vulture
In simple, quiet faith,
"I am an English woman,
I love my country well,
But must not hate a foeman,"
Said kindly Nurse Cavell.
She faced the guns with even,
Calm, fearless, English eyes,
And then, her foes forgiven,
Made willing sacrifice;
Thus, at the midnight hour,
In Prussian prison cell,
Crushed by a tyrant's power,
Died Christlike Nurse Cavell.