SONG OF THE ZEPPELIN

I cleave the air through the murky night,

High o'er the forests and sleeping towns;

Below me drifts the shimmering light--

A glorious fresco on vale and downs;

My sea hath no billows nor rocky shores,

And only the winds disturb my soul;

I care not for those who slumber in death,

For my bomb is bloody and death my goal--

And all for the Vaterland!

Where the currents cross and the cruisers speed

I sail towards the North in a piteous sky;

I hear the night wind's surging note

As it mingles its requiem with the widow's cry.

Above me there streams a light from heaven,

But I bow my head and veil my eyes

As I plough the fields with my fateful keel

And sow the highways with tears and sighs--

And all for the Vaterland!

And hate is the banner I unfurl so wide

That its blood-dripp'd folds may catch the breeze;

That e'en from the balcony of heaven on high

May be seen this banner on all the seas.

No triumph of arms is my flight by night,

It is only a part of a murderous raid:

Dropping a bomb on an innocent child

Or a crowing babe in its cradle laid--

And all for the Vaterland!

_For Thomas Walsh._

"SOCK IT TO 'EM"

"A Canadian lieutenant writes his mother from the front that what he

most needs for the winter is good warm socks."--_Press Despatch_.

Yes, Wilhelm, sure you'll get it,

The storm is o'er your head;

It is bursting in the trenches

And you're just as good as dead.

You put your foot on Belgium

And defied your fate and doom,

And now the whole world hates you

And the cry is "Sock it to 'em!"

True, your Taubchens still are sailing,

But your battleships are not;

They are coop'd up in a corner

Save the submerg'd ones that fought.

You are saving time and fuel,

But you're sad and filled with gloom,

For the very winds are whispering

"Blow hard and sock it to 'em."

You have sought more spacious realm

In the free and genial sun:

Has your sceptre widened any

With the salvo of each gun?

Your "World-Power" seems to narrow,

And your hope lies in a tomb,

While dark Fate weaves your chaplet

And whispers "Sock it to 'em!"

_For Theodore Botrel._

Songs of Heroic Days · 第 23 / 31 题