HALF-MAST
[February 16, 1898]
On every schoolhouse, ship, and staff
From 'Frisco clear to Marblehead,
Let droop the starry banner now,
In sorrow for our sailors dead.
Half-mast! Half-mast! o'er all the land;
The verdict wait; your wrath restrain;
Half-mast for all that gallant band—
The sailors of the Maine!
Not till a treachery is proved
His sword the patriot soldier draws;
War is the last alternative—
Be patient till ye know the cause.
Meanwhile—Half-mast o'er all the land!
The verdict wait; your wrath restrain;
Half-mast! for all that gallant band—
The martyrs of the Maine!
Lloyd Mifflin.
THE FIGHTING RACE
[February 16, 1898]
"Read out the names!" and Burke sat back,
And Kelly drooped his head,
While Shea—they call him Scholar Jack—
Went down the list of the dead.
Officers, seamen, gunners, marines,
The crews of the gig and yawl,
The bearded man and the lad in his teens,
Carpenters, coal passers—all.
Then, knocking the ashes from out his pipe,
Said Burke in an offhand way:
"We're all in that dead man's list by Cripe!
Kelly and Burke and Shea."
"Well, here's to the Maine, and I'm sorry for Spain,"
Said Kelly and Burke and Shea.