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- Hello, Boys! - 3/13 -


Coming over seas.

Weary soldiers worn with war Lifted up their eyes, Shadows seemed to fade a bit, Dawn was in the skies. Hope sprang to troubled hearts, Strength to tired knees: Ten thousand men a day Were coming over seas.

France and England swarmed with them, Khaki-clad and young, Filled with all the joy of life - Into line they swung. Waning valour rose anew At the sight of these Ten thousand men a day Coming over seas.

Still they come--and still they come In their strength and pride. Victory with radiant mien Marches on beside. Victory is here to stay, Every heart agrees, With ten thousand men a day Coming over seas.

'AMERICA WILL NOT TURN BACK' WOODROW WILSON

America will not turn back; She did not idly start, But weighed full carefully and well Her grave, important part. She chose the part of Freedom's friend, And will pursue it, to the end.

Great Liberty, who guards her gates, Will shine upon her course, And light the long, adventurous path With radiance from God's Source. And though blood dye that ocean track, America will not turn back.

She will not turn until that hour When thunders through the world The crash of tyrant monarchies By Freedom's hand down-hurled. While Labour's voice from sea to sea Sings loud, 'My country, 'tis of thee.'

Then will our fair Columbia turn, While all wars' clamours cease, And with our banner lifted high Proclaim, 'Let there be Peace.' But till that glorious day shall dawn She will march on, she will march on.

WAR

I

There is no picturesqueness and no glory, No halo of romance, in war to-day. It is a hideous thing; Time would turn grey With horror, were he not already hoary At sight of this vile monster, foul and gory. Yet while sweet women perish as they pray, And new-born babes are slaughtered, who dare say 'Halt!' till Right pens its 'Finis' to the story! There is no pathway, but the path through blood, Out of the horrors of this holocaust. Hell has let loose its scalding crimson flood, And he who stops to argue now is lost. Not brooms of creeds, not Pacifistic words Can stem the tide, but swords--uplifted swords!

II

Yet, after Peace has turned the clean white page There shall be sorrow on the earth for years; Abysmal grief, that has no eyes for tears, And youth that hobbles through the earth like age. But better to play this part upon life's stage Than to aid structures that a tyrant rears, To live a stalwart hireling torn with fears, And shamed by feeding on a conqueror s wage. Death, yea, a thousand deaths, were sweet in truth Rather than such ignoble life. God gave Being, and breath, and high resolve to youth That it might be Wrong's master, not its slave. Our road to Freedom is the road to guns! Go, arm your sons! I say, Go, arm your sons!

III

Arm! arm! that mandate on each wind is whirled. Let no man hesitate or look askance, For from the devastated homes of France And ruined Belgium the cry is hurled. Why, Christ Himself would keep peace banners furled Were He among us, till, with lifted lance, He saw the hosts of Righteousness advance To purify the Temples of the world. There is no safety on the earth to-day For any sacred thing, or clean, or fair; Nor can there be, until men rise and slay The hydra-headed monster in his lair. War! horrid War! now Virtue's only friend; Clasp hands with War, and battle to the end!

THE HOUR

This is the world's stupendous hour - The supreme moment for the race To see the emptiness of power, The worthlessness of wealth and place, To see the purpose and the plan Conceived by God for growing man.

And they who see and comprehend That ultimate and lofty aim Will wait in patience for the end, Knowing injustice cannot claim One lasting victory, or control Laws that bar progress for the whole.

This is an epoch-making time; God thunders through the universe A message glorious and sublime, At once a blessing and a curse. Blessings for those who seek His light, Curses for those whose law is might.

Ephemeral as the sunset glow Is human grandeur. Mortal life Was given that souls might seek and know Immortal truths; and through the strife That shakes the earth from land to land The wise shall hear and understand.

Out of the awful holocaust, Out of the whirlwind and the flood, Out of old creeds to Bedlam tossed, Shall rise a new earth washed in blood - A new race filled with spirit power, This is the world's stupendous hour.

THE MESSAGE

I have not the gift of vision, I have not the psychic ear, And the realms that are called Elysian I neither see nor hear; Yet oft when the shadows darken And the daylight hides its face, The soul of me seems to hearken For the truths that speak through space.

They speak to me not through reason, They speak to me not by word; Yet my soul would be guilty of treason If it did not say it had heard. For Space has a message compelling To give to the ear of Earth; And the things which the Silence is telling In the bosom of God have birth.

Now this is the truth as I hear it - That ever through good or ill, The will of the Ruling Spirit Is moving and ruling still. In the clutch of the blood-red terror That holds the world in its might, The Race is learning its error And will find its way to the light.

And this is the Truth as I see it - Whoever cries out for peace, Must think it, and live it, and BE IT, And the wars of the world will cease. Men fight that man may awaken,


Hello, Boys! - 3/13

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