UC-NRLF SB 1L5 flDl .auvice Hewlett . e Poetry BaDl^b -Si SINGSONGS OF THE WAR BY MAURICE HEWLETT LONDON THE POETRY BOOKSHOP 35 DEVONSHIRE ST., THEOBALDS ROAD, W.C. 1914 THE EMPEROR OF ALMAIN. HPHE Emperor of Almain Went rocking out to fight, The thunder of his legions Was heard across the night. There stood a chartered nation Upon his road to France, But Pooh ! says he, What's treaties ? And order 'd the advance. The Belgian he says, Easy ! And holds him up a spell. Treachery ! cries the Emperor, " This people is from hell. 11 You cannot treat this people As men of common measure, Who smite the friendly German A-taking of his pleasure. " You cannot fight this people How can you fight with clowns ? But you can burn their houses And sack their ancient towns ; " And you can shoot their old men, And do their women shame For facing of an Emperor And spoiling of his game. " And if you meet civilians, Don't let your natural ire Inflame you. Set them forward Upon the line of fire. " Then they're in this dilemma, That if they shoot they kill Their own, and if they don't shoot I work my Imperial Will." Now when he got thro' Belgium And enter'd pleasant France, He found an English army Opposing his advance. The Emperor of Almain He swore like one possest. Says he, " Remember Louvain, And rid me of this pest. " Whatever you do with Frenchmen, The English you shall slay, For they should be my henchmen Instead of in my way. " If they had half the culture That other Saxons have They'd know that God has purpos'd Germania rule the wave." We fought him up to Paris And pusht him back again ; He dug himself in trenches Above the banks of Aisne. And there he got the toothache As common people may, And had to see his Germans Be slain instead of slay. But he saw likely plunder, A great church made of dreams In stone, a thing of wonder, The fair-wrought Church of Rheims; At which he plugg'd and batter'd Till all in fire and smoke It shockt the sky, and shattered The roof sagg'd in and broke. The world cried out upon him, But culture soon miscarries When a man has the toothache And cannot get to Paris. And when a man is worried His wits are not at call. He fired the church because he thought It was a hospital. And so it was, for in it His wounded soldiers lay Till honest Frenchmen bore them Out of the shrapnel's way. The Germans went on shelling, With glasses on the fun, And one another's telling, " See how those beggars run !" 8 And so he eased his toothache, The Emperor of Almain ; And proud should be his doctors, Rheims, Dinant and Louvain. But he must get a many Before his war is done, And even might have heartache If he possesses one. A SINGSONG OF ENGLAND. ENGLAND is an island, The fairest ever seen ; They say men come to England To learn that grass is green. And Englishmen are now at war, All for this, they say, That they are free, and other men Must be as free as they. The Englishmen are shepherds, They plow, they sow, and reap ; Their king may wear his leopards, His men must lead their sheep. But now the crook and sickle, The coulter and the sieve Are thrown aside ; they take the gun That other men may live. Some Englishmen are fishermen, And other some are miners, And others man the shipping yards And build the Ocean liners ; But one and all will down tools And up with gun and sword To make a stand for Freedom Against the War Lord. The pretty girls of England Are husbanding their charms, For not a. girl of them but has Her sweetheart under arms. And not a girl of all the flock Would call across the waves Her sweetheart to her kindness While other men are slaves. 10 There's been an English Kingdom For twice a thousand years ; Her men have plough'd and reap'd it Thro' merriment and tears. But never a twenty year has past Without some stroke's been given For Freedom ; and the land is free As any under heaven. The Roman and the Spaniard, The Corsican, have tried Their worst, and now the German Must perish in his pride. He may burn and thieve and slaughter, He may scold and storm and pray ; But we shall fight till even his Stand up free men some day. When he is free of Germany And Germany of him There'll be a chance for plain men To get old Europe trim. Then on, you sturdy English hands, And keep the colours flying; And we'll not grudge your blessed blood If Tyranny's a-dying. II THE SOLDIERS PASS. HPHE soldiers pass at nightfall, A girl within each arm, And kisses quick and light fall On lips that take no harm. Lip language serves them better Who have no parts of speech : No syntax there to fetter The lore they love to teach. What waist would shun th' indenture Of such a gallant squeeze ? What girl's heart not dare venture The hot-and-cold disease? Nay, let them do their service Before the lads depart ! That hand goes where the curve is That billows o'er the heart. Who deems not how 'tis given, What knows he of its worth ? 'Tis either fire of heaven Or earthiness of earth. 12 And if the lips are fickle That kiss, they'll never know If tears begin to trickle Where they saw roses blow. ' ' The girl I left behind me, " He'll sing, nor hear her moan, " The tears they come to blind me As I sit here alone. " What else had you to offer, Poor spendthrift of the town ? Lay out your unlockt coffer The Lord will know his own. SOLDIER, SOLDIER . . . " COLDIER, soldier, off to the war, Take me a letter to my sweetheart O. He's gone away to France With his carbine and his lance, And a lock of brown hair of his sweetheart O." 13 " Fair maid of London, happy may you be To know so much of your sweetheart O. There's not a handsome lad, To get the chance he's had, But would skip, with a kiss for his sweet- heart O." " Soldier, soldier, whatever shall I do If the cruel Germans take my sweetheart O ? They'll pen him in the jail And starve him thin and pale, With never a kind word from his sweet- heart O." " Fair maid of London, is that all you see Of the lad you've taken for your sweetheart O ? He'll make his prison ring With his God save the King, And his God bless the blue eyes of my sweet- heart O!" " Soldier, soldier, if by shot or shell They wound him, my dear lad, my sweet- heart O, 14 He'll lie bleeding in the rain And call me, all in vain, Crying for the fingers of his sweetheart O." " Pretty one, pretty one, now take a word from me : Don't you grudge the life-blood of your sweet- heart O. For you must understand He gives it to our land, And proud should fly the colours of his sweet- heart O." " Soldier, soldier, my heart is growing cold If a German shot kill my sweetheart O ! I could not lift my head If my dear love lay dead With his wide eyes waiting for his sweet- heart O." " Poor child, poor child, go to church and pray, Pray God to spare you your sweetheart O. But if he live or die The English flag must fly, And England take care of his sweetheart O ! M TYE STREET T KNOW a song of Tye Street ** As simple as it's true. Down there they want the candles out For what they have to do. Young Molly lived in Tye Street, Her mother's name was Moss. She had no father God knows Who her father was. Yet she grew like a lily So lax and warm and white, Yet she grew like a lily flower That cannot get the light. She danced upon the pavement With lifted pinafore Until the boys took notice, And then she danced no more. i6 The war broke over Tye Street In newsbills and in rags, And all the upper windows Showed little faded flags. And soon the pavement corners Held stout young men in buff, And there were clingings after dark, And sobs and answers gruff. And Molly had a sweetheart As everybody does, And never knew for her part Why he should kiss so close. No sooner got than going, 'Twas hers it seems to bless The waiting hours in Tye Street. It was a sweet distress. And so he went to Portsmouth And left her to her tears And waking dreams at night-time, And twice eight years. 17 And then she had a burden To carry in her shawl, And had to hold her head high For fear that she should fall. Out and about she took him, And whiter grew and thinner, Knowing the passion of her need That he should get his dinner. And well for her down Tye Street She goes in fear of falling : She has need of a lifted head In her new calling. THE DROWNED SAILOR. T AST night I saw my true love stand ^^ All shadowy by my bed. He had my locket in his hand ; I knew that he was dead. 18 4 * Sweetheart, why stand you there so fast, Why stand you there so grave? 1 ' " I think (said he) this hour's the last That you and I can have. " You gave me this from your fair breast, It's never left me yet; And now it dares not seek the nest Because it is so wet. " The cold gray sea has covered it, Deep in the sand it lies, While over me the long weeds flit And veil my staring eyes. " And there are German sailors laid Beside me in the deep. We have no need of gun nor blade, United in our sleep." " Dear heart, dear heart, come to my bed, My arms are warm and sweet !" " Alack for you, my love," he said, " My limbs would wet the sheet. 19 " Cold is the bed that I lie on And deep beneath the swell. No voice is left to make my moan And bid my love farewell/' Now I am widow that was wife Would God that they could prove What law should rule, without the strife That's robbed me of my love ! BRAVE WORDS FROM KIEL. TT was a Teuton publicist Whose words flowed calm and true : " I wish to make it clear," he said, " What we propose to do About your fleet." The sailor said, " Meinherr, it's up to you." 20 " We have ein fleet in all your days You saw not such a sight. That was the most almachtiger That ever went to fight." " But it don't go," the sailor said. " It barks, but it don't bite." " Der bark it is from thunder-guns; So has that mighty fleet Ein gun aber so wunderschon ! To lay it is to hit." " It may be so," the sailor said, 11 But let me look at it." 14 The Dreadnoughts what we have in there Would freeze you with their thunder Of gunnery ; also your ships Would be their sport und plunder If you so out of senses were " The sailor said, " I wonder." " And we have cruisers wunderschnell, Whose valour there's no curbin'. They was like greyhounds from ein leash When they work up their turbine." The sailor mused. " Perhaps," said he, " You're talking of the Goeben?" " There's plenty more like her inside; She was not all we've got. Das Wilhelmshaven she is full Of what could sink your lot." The sailor said, " Well, that's all right. Why don't you have a shot ?" " If you could see that splendid fleet Which is der Kaiser's pride, You would not be so hot in haste Der issue to decide." " Come on, old son," the sailor said, " We're waiting just outside." " Der Admiral is such a man As is the great Von Kluck. These was his two great qualities, His prudence und his pluck. Und when he shtart !" The sailor said, " You never know your luck." " You think the German fleet hangs fire Until the sea was flat ! Or do you say we fear to meet Our foe?" The sailor spat. "Well, some say one thing, some another- What are you playing at ?" 22 IN THE TRENCHES. AST lay in the trenches Under the Hunter's Moon, My mind ran to the lenches Cut in a Wiltshire down. I saw their long black shadows, The beeches in the lane, The gray church in the meadows And my white cottage plain. Thinks I, the down lies dreaming Under that hot moon's eye, Which sees the shells fly screaming And men and horses die. And what makes she, I wonder, Of the horror and the blood, And what's her luck, to sunder The evil from the good ? 'Twas more than I could compass, For how was I to think With such infernal rumpus In such a blasted stink ? 23 But here's a thought to tally With t'other. That moon sees A shrouded German valley With woods and ghostly trees. And maybe there's a river As we have got at home With poplar-trees aquiver And clots of whirling foam. And over there some fellow, A German and a foe, Whose gills are turning yellow As sure as mine are so, Watches that riding glory Apparel'd in her gold, And craves to hear the story Her frozen lips enfold. And if he sees as clearly As I do where her shine Must fall, he longs as dearly, With heart as full as mine. ACKNOWLEDGEMENT. I tender my thanks to the Daily Chronicle and Westminster Gazette for hospitality afforded to most of these rhymes amid the hurtle and press of recent circumstance. Poetry Bookshop Publications . . GEORGIAN POETRY, 1911-12. Edited by E.M. Tenth Edition. 3/6 net (postage 3d.). ANTHOLOGY DES IMAGISTES, 2/6 net (postage 2d.) POEMS. By JOHN ALFORD. 2/- net (postage 2d.). THE POETRY REVIEW, 1912. Bound in brown paper boards, buckram back, with Index and Title-page. Originally 10/6 net. Reduced to 5/- to clear, POETRY & DRAMA, 1913 & 1914. Bound in brown paper boards, buckram back, with Index and Title-page. Two Volumes, four numbers in each. 12/6 each, net. Separate num- bers, 2/6 net (postage 3d.). Index and Title-page, to "Poetry and Drama," separately, 4d., post free. Ballad of "The Gloster" and "The Goeben." A Broadside. By MAURICE HEWLETT. 2d. net (postage id.). CHILDREN OF LOVE. Poems. By HAROLD MONRO. 32pp. 6d. net (postage id.). THE RHYME SHEET. Nos. i, 4, & 5, coloured, ad. each net. Nos. 2 and 3, plain, Id. each net (postage id, the set). Further sheets in preparation. FLYING FAME PUBLICATIONS, BY RALPH HODGSON and Others. Chapbooks : Small, 6d. j Large Paper, Hand Coloured, 2/6. Broadsides: 2d. plain, 4d, coloured. Also Garlands, etc. Postage id. up to any three Items. All Decorations and Drawings by Lovat Fraser, Full sets, including Large Paper Coloured Edition, 21/- (post free), 35, Devonshire Street, Theobalds Road, London, W.C. OMB UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY