Wolf Patriotic and promiscuous poems THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES GIFT OF E. D. Cline Patriotic and Promiscuous Poems BY Blair Wolf Patriotic and Promiscuous Poems By BLAIR WOLF Winterset, Iowa CONTENTS The Soldier - _______________7 Retrospective -----------__--___9 Thirty-fifth Iowa - ________ 11 Woman and the Relief Corps -_____-. - ..____ 13 Hard Tack --_--_-__ _______ 15 Camp Strong - _____________ 17 The Women of Muscatine -- ___________ 19 The Missing ____________ 20 The Patriotic Picture ______________ 23 The Old Army Shoe -----_-_________ 25 The Cavalry ----_-____________ 29 Our Country's Defenders --___-________ 29 Our Fallen Brave -----_-_________ 30 West Liberty _-----__-_________ 32 The Woman's Relief Corps _____________ 33 Decoration Day --___-___ _______ 34 An Incident ---___-________ 34 Our Soldier Dead --_-_-__________ 35 Reply ______ __36 The Reception _-----__._________ 37 The Old Battlefield _-------_-______ 37 Washington ---_-____________ 3g Putting Down the Rebellion ---________ _38 Company F, Forty-Ninth Iowa --__-___ _ _. _ 41 The Ladies of Savannah, Georgia ______ _ _ _ _ 43 The Vacant Room ----____________ 45 Reply to the Silent Room - ___________ 40 Our Flag _____ 47 The Pioneers ________________ _ _ 48 My Sisters' Golden Wedding __---_-_-____ 52 Appeal of the Old Bell _-_--_______ __53 McKinley Campaign - _ _ _ 54 Abe Lincoln -_------__________ 55 Parody on Washington _______________ 55 Toast - - ___ __ _________ 57 Response _____________ ____57 For Book of Quotations - _-_-__-_______ 53 For the Aged - ---_---_________ 58 Leap Year ___________________ 55 Christmas --_--_-___-________ 59 fS On the 9th of August, 1862, I enlisted in the United States Volunteer Army, for three years, or during the Civil War. Later our company (G) was assigned to the Thirty-fifth Iowa Volunteer Infantry, whose first camp was on Muscatine Island, near the city of Muscatine, Iowa. While there a num ber of the soldiers subscribed for the Muscatine Journal. At one time during the following winter several of our regiment were in the General Hospital at Cairo, Illinois, myself among the number. One day one of them asked me if I had seen an article of poetry published in the "Muscatine Journal" and written (by a private of our regiment) on a building at Camp Strong. I had not seen the paper, but asked him him if he could repeat any of the lines. After he repeated some of them I told him I had written it while on guard there. No doubt but I would have forgotten the circumstance had it not been called to my mind. I think it was about twenty-four years af ter the war and while our regimental associations were having their second reunion at Muscatine. I went to the "Journal" office and in the files of November, 1862, I easily found the following items: Camp Strong, Nov. 14th, 1862. The following original lines, author unknown, shows that there is a Poet in the ranks. They are recorded on the door post of the Secretary's Office at the entrance of the Fair Grounds. The place is noted for the number of empty clothing boxes, but very little else. A guard is kept there day and night, but what he has to guard is hard to make out. As it is Beat No. 14, of course the new relief does not pass without hav ing a new guard every two hours. As none but privates are placed on the beats, to one of that class belongs the credit, I give it ver batim. I'll stack my gun and write a line To show you how I pass the time. I'm placed here now to guard the door. And all this vast amount of store. But soon I'll leave for Dixie's Land And never on this beat I'll stand; And when I leave this world of grief I hope to join a new relief. And when the heavenly course I run Will need no bayonet or gun, But mingle with the hosts above Where all is harmony and love. A large space might be filled with interesting items from the guard line that take place by night and by day. When I hear again from the author of the poetry I will let you know. HENRY. I think the principal of the High School in my na tive place (Marlboro, Stark County, Ohio), must have been an enemy to poetry, for he cautioned us severely against any attempt at such composition. Yet his idea might have been to keep us in abeyance until more mature years, and then let the disposition break out of its own accord. At any rate, his ad vice influenced me for some seven or eight years, until the silent watches of Camp Strong. If No. 14 had been a walking beat instead of an irksome standing one, the muse might have been suppressed indefinitely. Thanks to Henry (or whatever his right name is) for rescuing those few lines from oblivion. Such as they were they were the cause (in after years) of numerous requests from comrades and others for something more from my pen. This caused me to produce something occasionally. I have lost some of my productins though the action of some newspaper reporters who would (after the adjournment of a meeting) ire among the first to request copy and after promis ing faithfully to return it, would never do so. I never wrote for money, but am thankful for the manner in which my efforts have been received ; and in this connection I must mention a circumstance of the Spanish- American War. I was then living at Tipton, Cedar County, Iowa. Tipton and vicinity furnished a great portion of Company ~F, Firty-ninth Iowa. After suf- fering the heat of summer and the ravages of disease, the regi ment was removed in the fall from the swamps of Jacksonville, Florida to the suburbs of Savannah, Georgia, where they were treated with respect by the people of the city. They were there but a short time before being orderd to Cuba. The troops in Camp at Savannah numbered from fifteen to twenty thousand on Thanksgiving day. But what was that to an army of Sa vannah ladies who poured out from the city and took the whole camp by surprise, put up tables and loaded them with one of the greatest banquets and profusion of flowers ever known to history. I was requested by the Soldiers' Aid Socety of Tipton to thank the ladies of Savannah for the splendid Thanksgiving banquet. The poem sent for this purpose was published in the "Savannah News" and the publisher sent me a copy. Dr. C. Backman (the oldest practicing dentist in Savannah) although then a total stranger to me, also kindly sent me a copy of the paper containing the poem and it was published by our home paper. The kindness of the Doctor and Mrs. Backman brought about a very happy correspondence between our families and when I sent a poem on "The Vacant Room of Our Soldier Boy" the Doctor had it published and answered by a poet friend of his, whose poetry expressed sympathy and hope for the safe return of our boy. After the regiment returned from Cuba the Doctor sought our son and entertained him at his home and when he was sick in the hospital, both he and his estimable wife carried baskets of nourishment and tried to prevail on him to accept the hospitality of their home until he became well. Long and happy life to our southern friends, and the same to ''Henry" if living, and I will be very thankful to any of my readers if they can put me on his track, for the "Journal" force could not give me his proper name or place of residence. If dead, I want to know it, and say peace to his soul, and if living I want to thank him for what he has done for me and request permission to write his epitaph. And now, gentle reader, what ever appreciation you may have for my productions please re member that the influence of "Henry" was in no small degree back of it all. And now as I send the portion of my patriotic and promiscuous poems contained in this small volume on its mission, I hope you will not criticise, but charitably ascribe to it, whatever consideration and merit it deserves. Those of the Thirty-fifth Iowa who are poetically in clined can see that I have taken no title upon myself, but in justice to them can say that the circumstances here narrated are solely responsible for your humble servant being called the poet of the Thirty-Fifth Iowa. PATRIOTIC POEMS In times of old, when kings were crowned And courtiers danced their giddy round, And monarchs held supreme control And worldly power was their goal, Who were the men placed at the helm To guard and keep the conquered realm To execute what e'er was planned And guard with safety all the land ? The Soldier. When infant settlements were planned, And danger lurked on every hand, Wild beasts, wild men, were waiting there Crouching, springng from their lair, Or waiting on some nearby hill To satiate their greedy will, Who trod their rounds with weary feet And gave the people rest and sleep ? The Soldier. When Uncle Sam wore baby clothes And. Britain in her wrath arose And taxed the tea and all the stamps And maybe candlesticks and lamps, Who were the men among the rest That always did their very best To drive oppression from our shore And stay its progress evermore ? The Soldier. When England ploughed the mighty main Across the seas, her wealth to gain, She claimed the right to search our craft Then turn around and jest and laugh And say "A Britain always so" "Our motto is wher'er we go" : Who brought them down upon all fours And sent them home to do their chores ? The Soldier. When Mexico was careless quite Of all the rules of nations right, And traced an order on her slate Her debts she would repudiate, We brought them to a sudden pause And taught them to respect our cause, And yet with all our zeal and zest Who of our people taught them best? The Soldier. When haughty tyrants played their roles And bought and dealt in human souls, They claimed the right if they should will To call their slaves on Bunker Hill, Another right they all agreed That from our Union to secede ; Who showed them plainly, one and all, That all such plans must surely fall? The Soldier. When it was thought that haughty Spain With foul intent blew up the Maine, And then grew turbulent by spells And forced our men to prison cells, And slaughtered Cubans by the scores Just as they did in former wars, Who taught them lessons quite intense And brought them to their sober sense? The Soldier. Men may talk both loud and long With oratory, good and strong, And bid the common people wait While they shall guide the Ship of State; But when the ship gets into danger From inward foe or pirate stranger, What is the Captain's last resort To bring the ship safe into port? The Soldier. RETROSPECTIVE I often turn back to the year 'Sixty-one When conflict of slavery with Freedom begun The thoughts of a moment, results of an age Are all written out on that wonderful page, And plainer than pictures that hang on the wall I see the dark shadows that spread over all; Disloyal debating, dissention and strife Are quenching the fountains of National life. The flag of our county is trampled in dust The hand of the traitor is wreaking his lust, The hordes of rebellion from near and afar Are dealing swift vengeance in pillage and war. Our country's defenders, the loyal and brave Are marshalling armies the country to save, They are leaving their homes and families dear And hastening onward, their comrades to cheer. 'Mid thunder of battle and carnage and smoke They smite the oppressor and loosen his yoke, And the terrible volume is only begun With defeats and successes as time passes on. The land is in sorrow, depression and fear With gloomy forebodings the outgoing year, Herculean effort the next year was made, The tide of oppression was hopefully stayed. But yet in a balance our destinies hung, And furious engagements that no human tongue Attempts to relate, but attempts it in vain The numbers of thousands of wounded and slain. The third year of carnage, the greatest yet seen When bloodshed of battle oft crimsoned the green, The heaviest engagements the world ever knew And stubborn rebellion was severed in two. Vicksburgh has fallen and Gettysburgh won The dark clouds are yielding a glimpse of the sun, The loyal are hopeful and firm in their cause Unyielding in justice, maintaining the laws. The fourth year of sorrow and some months beside Saw victory sail in at the flow of the tide; Our land forces gathered at beat of the drum The living returned unto kindred and home. But Oh ! the bright lives that when out in the storm That spread o'er the nation in death-dealing form How often remembered in silence and tears, Through all of the seasons of swift passing years. Tall statues of marble can never impart 10 A balm for the anguish and aching of heart That is felt at the loss of our heroes so brave, Who gave up their lives, our loved country to save. Fond memories linger on each passing breeze That is wafted to us from the Southern seas ; May nature'slWghtgarlands forever entwine 'Round the graves of our fallen in beauty sublime. Let the foot of the stranger in reverence tread In each burial place of our own country's dead, And all of our people as years cycle 'round Deck the graves of our heroes wherever they're found. THE THIRTY -FIFTH IOWA When the flag of our country was flung to the breeze And proclaim** new nation o'er land and o'er seas, It gave us a birthright for life to possess The rights of the free in the land of the West. But when foul rebellion arose in the land And spread through the Southland from river to strand The Northland stood firm in upholding the laws And marshalled its armies to fight in its cause. And when our great chieftan called yet for still more The loyal responded from shore unto shore. Amid that great army, the nation's best gift Marched in solid column the grand Thirty-Fifth. Of all none were more hopeful than this band of men Their number a thousand, their companies ten; They feared not the hardship, they feared not the strife To them home and country were dearer than life. 11 They stood up for justice, they fought for the truth That loyal battalion of manhood and youth, To follow their journey through all those dark years Death, sickness and sorrow and sad weeping tears. Bereft of the comforts of mother or wife They die among strangers or fall in the strife. It would fill a large book that no one could write Save the God of our battles that watched o'er the fight. The living pressed onward 'till victory won And then the march homeward at last was begun ; With glad hearts and joyful as onward they come To meet friends and kindred and pleasures of home. Abreast the great river at last they are seen And steer for the harbor of old Muscatine ; Thronged citizens gather, while hats they uplift And thrice hearty welcome the old Thirty-Fifth. Oh ! where are they now, those Ten Hundred Men ? Many sleep in the valley, the mountain and glen, Some are limpng along and shattered in health Some have little to keep them and few are in wealth. But of all the great favors that fall unto man Is the joy of our meeting together again, Leaving business behind us without a regret Have a Reunion together, we'll never forget And when all our cares and our sorrows are o'er Transportation be furnished to Heaven's brght shores And the Guardian Angel the wicket will lift And welcome each boy of the old Thirty-Fifth. 12 WOMAN AND THE BELIEF COKPS To all firm believers of that excellent book Which tells of the fruit that our parents partook, You find that the man was the first on the ground And spent most of his time in looking around ; Beheld trees and flowers from stem unto root But had little knowledge of flavors of fruit, But when Mother Eve appeared as his spouse She straightway began to provide for the house. She gathered some apples, enough to suffice To bake for their dinner a couple of pies, She already believed in cooking their food But Adam was lazy and got her no wood. He sat in contentment and quoted the law That all fruits forever should be eaten raw; That man was well punished since then, you will note The chunk of raw apple still sticks in his throat. And by this we prove the origianl plan Of woman's creation superior to man. She helped along when he tended his flocks And lived in a tent on the mountains and rocks. And when he became yet more civilized She helped him to build in the midst of the wilds. She sailed o'er the breadth of the treacherous main And stood by his side in the woods and the plain. She lived in her cabin in danger and dread And oft gave to others her morsel of bread, And heard the loud war-whoop of savage wild men Resound through the forest and echo again ; And between the bright morn and the sunset's red glow 13 Beheld all she loved in her presence laid low, And yet never faltered or murmured complaint No matter how saddened or weary or faint. She helped to build up all the wealth of the East In which present people can revel and feast. She went to the West, as every one knows In the midst of the prairie she planted the rose. She came to the Rockies with never a rest And foot-sore and weary passed over their crest, And down in the vales of that beautiful land She planted the orange longside of the palm. She raised up the children from near and afar Who made themselves famous in peace and in war. Whenever our nation was toiling in strife No heroes were braver than mother and wife. To help our foef athers their freedom to gain They molded the bullets that conquered the slain ; They bound up the wounds and they kneaded the bread On which patriot soldiers were wont to be fed. When later old England our country assailed And well for our people ingloriously failed, The power of woman arose in its might And with her assistance gave strength to the fight. When dread civil war, this beautiful land Deluged with blood from ocean to strand The prayers of our women were ever again A strength to our armies, the struggle to gain. They stood by our soldiers in field and in camp When pallor spread o'er them with pestilence damp, As sisters of mercy they worked in the rows 14 Of wounded and dying in hospital clothes. In these later years, in our contest with Spain The kindness of woman was present again, The same gentle touch and the closing of eyes Of comrades whose spirits had fled to the skies. The old army veteran bowed in his grief Gives thanks to his Maker for Woman's Relief In fighting life's battles though weary and sore He takes up new courage by help of the Corps. Go search the world over, no better you'll find To heal up the wounded in body and mind, No body of workers throughout all the land Have ever done better for suffering man. They come to his aid at the time of his need With never a thought of his doctrine or creed, They nurse the good wife and the children caress And dispel every want in the way that is best. Now to these good sisters my tribute I bring And consider them greater than Duchess or King, For in God's creation to make us more human He sent us an angel and called it a woman. HARD TACK When wrapt in reverie I find Swift thoughts come thronging on the mind, I think of days when I was small And chased with glee my hoop and ball; Of days of maple syrup saps And mother's pies and ginger snaps; 15 Of doughnuts too, there was no lack; But then we never knew Hard Tack- We had some cares, of course we did And so does every little kid ; Feet frosted with the winter snow The stone bruise on the bare-foot toe, The measles and the whooping cough, Or sleeping up on some dark loft; But trials more we had to back When old enough to eat Hard Tack. But when big boys we grew to be As comely as you'd wish to see We brushed our coats and combed our curls And looked askance at pretty girls ; Sometimes we saw them home from church, Sometimes they left us in the lurch, And bade us please to just step back, With hearts much harder than Hard Tack. But darker days have come to all When haughty pride must have a fall ; The rising storm is seen afar As onward comes the march of war, And maiden, mother, wife shall weep And silent dreary vigils keep And scarcely for a moment lack To think of thofee who eat Hard Tack. For lover, brother, husband, now Have registered a solemn vow To live or die, as chance may be For equal rights and liberty, Down at the front they march along And mingle with the mighty throng, 16 Each hoping he may soon come back And throw away his old Hard Tack. Sometimes plenty, often less, Sometimes nothing in the mess, Ofttimes supperless to bed With leaking sky all overhead, Nothing for soldiers to admire When out of food and out of fire But rest upon their haversack And dream 'tis filled with good Hard Tack. The weary march, the battles roar Comes to the memory o'er and o'er. The dead and dying wounded all Commingle in one funeral pall ; You see it all down through the years And oft your eyes are dimmed with tears; Those by-gone days, they all come back When comrades shared their last Hard Tack. Brave heroes sleep in southern soil Away from all life's busy toil, While some are living good and true As in the days they wore the blue ; Their scattering locks are turning gray And all, too soon must pass away. Good people all let nothing lack To those who once could eat Hard Tack. CAMP STRONG Who named Camp Strong I cannot tell But he who did it, did it well, 17 And looking back I often think Of some strong things we had to drink. Strong water first and very bad To drink the the same would make you sad, Strong coffee too, and taste of rust Mixed in with sand and island dust; And to this day we all agree 'Twas there we drank our strongest tea, And worse than tea was sometimes found By thirsty boys who ran up town. The camp was by the river side O'erflown at time of highest tide, And from the city could be seen Just down below old Muscatine. A sickly place 'twas surely true, For when the fog raised o'er the slough And spread abroad its mantle rife You'd almost cut it with a knife. A passing breeze the clouds would shift And there behold the Thirty-Fifth, Their shanties stood ten all abreast A.nd formed the row the farthest west. Then turning left and passing north We viewed with pride the Twenty-Fourth, The boys who donned their suits of blue While our own knees were sticking through. They left us one October And down the river made their way, And in their place the Graybeards came And took their quarters just the same. 18 Some weeks together then we passed, Until our orders came at last, We left the camp and took the car And off we started for the war. The Graybearda finished up the camp Before they started on the tramp, They were the last of all the throng That ever tarried in Camp Strong. The young, the old, the brave, the gay, Came in and out and went their way ; A few yet on life's billows tossed While many more the stream have crossed. Now in our fast declining years Come let us hear your hopes and fears ; Just "grab a root" and come along And let us hear of old Camp Strong. THE WOMEN OF MUSCATINE There is many a gem worth keeping Produced from countries afar But better than these are fond memories Reflected from days of the war. You may travel this wide world all over And tell us all you have seen, But you never will change our opinion Of the ladies of Muscatine. Not alone of those in the city Do I wish to speak of in praise, But the women of all the county Who lived in the perilous days 19 The days of the Southern Kebellion And all of the years between The loyal true-hearted devotion Of the women of Muscatine. Always ready for every occasion, And eager and willing to do Anything for the pleasure and comfort Of the chivalrous "boys in blue", And when we were sick and suffering Or felt the pangs of adversity keen, !N"one more ready to offer assistance Than the ladies of Muscatine. Then all of ye "Thirty-Fifth" soldier* ~No matter wherever yon roam, Come down to the beautiful city The city we call our home; And never forget the ladies But keep their memory green; Three cheers for the army and navy And the women of Muscatine. THE MISSING When the days of foul rebellion Cursed our land from gulf to shore, Then it was that hearts knew sorrow That they never knew before. Grandparents old and feeble Pondered all the live-long day At the thoughts that friends and kindred Must be counted in the fray. 20 But the parents grief was greater As they gave their willing sons, And the while it seemed the harder When they sent their only ones. And the noble wife and mother Could but wring her hands and pray, As she saw her husband father Kiss good-bye and march away. Then the kind and loving sisters Must give up their bothers too, For they know their country's calling For the good, the brave, the true. To the young and lovely maiden All the future seemed so dark When from out their pleasant sunshine Her fond lover must depart. Fond adieus from friends and kindred Were repeated o'er and o'er And our country was in sorrow All the way from shore to shore. Armies passing from the cities And along the country ways, Marching forth in solid column Home and country all to save. Lo! the sounds of deadly conflict Are soon borne upon the breeze, Ere the birds and blossoms mingle With the leaves upon the trees ; \ And the wings of death's dark angel Spread o'er vale and mountain side 21 'Till the weeping wife and mother Almost wished they too had died. Many homes were rent asunder And fond hopes were crushed for aye, 'Till all kindred meet together In a home beyond the sky. But of all the mortal sorrows That the human soul could rack It was this, to get no tidings Of the one that ne'er came back. Whether on the field of glory Or the prisons crowded cell, No one has yet discovered The place whereon he fell. Could he but sank to slumber On a comrade's loving arm, And thus cross the placid liver Where the wicked cease to harm, The kindred at the heart-stone Would give all the world beside For some satisfying knowledge As to how their loved one died. Thus the parent and the widow Oft have grieved their life away, Still repining an-d declining With a grief they could not stay. When the years of strife were ended And the armies home again; Who could count the many thousands That were numbered with the slain. 22 Who could count the many heart aches That were caused by war's alarms Through all the years of contest When our country was in arms. Credit good to God the Father And all wickedness to men, And pray no great rebellion May e'er visit us again. THE PATRIOTIC PICTURE Come paint me a picture To hang on the wall And show to my comrades Whenever they call. As noble a group As ever was seen, Who would willingly drink From the same canteen. And now my good artist You've got to play fair, For one from each order Must surely be there. Four gray heads must surely Appear in the space Each having a very Conspicuous place, The Grand Army Man And the Legion are there, And two elderly ladies With silvery hair ; 23 Each of the pair Are no strangers to grief The Grand Army Ladies And Womans Relief. The fair Daughters too Those mischievous elves Who join with the others Or work by themselves. And now for our sons Who are scattered so wide, We must bring them together All side by side. The S. V. Camp And some in the Guard The Spanish war vet And his Army pard ; And our parents And family of '61 And now our formation Is only begun. Our sweethearts and wives And our children dear In that same picture Must all appear. Another old vet' Must stand in the row Who fought on the Plains of Mexico; The Regular too, Who trod o'er the wild 24 And guarded the Pioneer's infant child. And down in the past We willingly delve To bring up a face From the war of '12. And on down the line By strict evolution Another we bring From the Great [Revolution. I want this grand picture To be a surprise Portray every feature And kind, beaming eyes; But how shall we group them And make them appear With all in the front And none in the rear. I cannot arrange them I give up the job And leave their position To country and God. THE OLD ARMY SHOE Good woman I've painted Your house through and through, And now if you wish I will gild the old shoe ; 25 The one in the \vurdrobe I saw over there, As you turn to the left At the foot of the stair. Nay, painter, it certainly Never would do For strangers to handle That sacred old shoe ; But I'll take it down As I often have done, For it is all I have left, Of my long lost son My husband was (lend And my innocent boy Was the pride of my life, And the height of my joy. At the call of our country He proudly marched forth And down to the front With the hosts of the North. A few tender letters And then all was o'er I never could hear Of my boy any more. But after long months Of sorrow and pain, They sent me a package That came by the train, I opened the parcel, Examined it through ; And only could find The old army shoe. While scanning it closely Though I could not tell why ; I read on the sole, "Dear mother, good-bye." He surely is gone, And 'tis certainly true, As a last dying token He sent me his shoe. My boy was my all Let him sleep where he will, There's a void in my heart That nothing can fill. And now kind stranger I see you're in tears, To think how I've suffered These many long years ; And now kind lady Without more ado I'll add something more To the tale of the shoe. 'Twas the spring of the year The beautiful May, We all were drawn up In battle array. Your boy at my left With myself at his right. And in that position We entered the fight. 27 A minnie ball came Our ranks whizzing through, And made the plain mark On the heel of his shoe. And yet farther on 'Midst the heat of the fray, A cannon ball took His left leg away. I carried him down In a valley close by His blood flowing fast; I knew he would die. A keepsake he said For my mother so true; But there's nothing to send Unless it's my shoe. I handed it to him; And with hand growing cold And fast failing strength He wrote on the sole. We made him a grave 'JSTeath a mistletoe bough , And marked well the spot, I could find it there now. He gave me your address And whispered it plain ; And I sent the package That came by the train. 28 TO THE CAVALRY A critter soldier came dashing by And I thought of the days when you and I Were marching along in the broiling heat, All weary of limb and aching feet We travelled across the burning sand Or mud and water on every hand; We wondered that men might have the chance To wear a pair of "half-soled" pants. It seemed to us an excellent plan That horses should march instead of man ; And that is why so many were saved, While the footman went down to his early grave: Yet away with the man with memory skilled Who says no cavalry ever were killed. In years of struggle and civil strife Both "foot and horse" gave up their life. And but a remnant from out the fray Are able to meet with us here today; So let them talk of the various ways They fought and marched in their army days. All hail to the men that rode o'er the land And the weary feet that pounded the sand ; "Sand pounders" are here in an equal chance With the boys who wore the "half-soled" pants. OUR COUNTRY'S DEFENDERS They fought to form a nation true And built it better than they knew, 29 And kept it later when the clan Of British hordes stood man to man. They never let their honor go When crossing swords with Mexico, And in our bloody civil strife, They pledged anew our nation's life. They brought our flag without a stain Home from the war with haughty Spain ; So give to all from first to last The honor due to every class. OUE FALLEN BRAVE When the graves of our soldiers Are covered with snow And the gales of stern winter Rush furiously by; The living should think Of the debt that they owe For the sacrifice made By our comrades who die When spring brings her fragrance Of buds and of flowers To sweeten the pleasure Of swift passing hours. And picture her landscape So rich and so gay We've chosen a time In the beautiful May, 30 To weave the bright garlands From nature's rich store, And deck the green mounds From shore unto shore, Where heroes lie sleeping In calm, peaceful rest, With nature's soft coverlet Spread o'er each breast. Many are lying In places unknown With never a word Marked on slab or on stone; But whether in valley Or mountain side steep, The feathery songsters Their vigils will keep ; And each dying autumn Like a funeral pall, Spreads her rich leaves Alike over all. With proper respect For the deeds of the brave Who gave up their lives Our country to save; Let us never forget The lesson they taught , And prize every right Which so dearly was bought. Let Columbia's children , 31 Have respect for her laws, And remember the heroes Who died in her cause. WEST LIBEKTY (For Reunion of 35th Iowa at West Liberty Iowa.) You may cross over mountains and valley so fair Inhale the sweet breeze of the health-giving air, And count all the places of beauty you see The beautiful flowers and fruit on the tree; But where is the place where comrades may rest All feel at home and partake of the best? West Liberty. The flocks and the crops .grow strong in the sun The husbandman rests when his duty is done; The good wife and children are better than kings Because of contentment that happiness brings. A community busy as bees in a hive A place where all people must certainly thrive; West Liberty. In times when our natiton was sorely distressed And soldiers were wanted to march from the west, The Old Wapsie Valley was true to the call, Her sons swelled the ranks of the musket and ball, And these later years at the bugle refrain She sent gallant heroes to struggle with Spain. West Liberty. It seems as the years in their cycles go round ~No spot on this earth will ever be found With people more willing, faithful and true 32 To welcome the boys of the Government blue ; No matter whatever from whence we may come 'Tis surely the place we can all feel at home West Liberty. We enjoy with the gents and ladies so fair A sunshine of pleasure that banisheth care, And then a grand banquet the best in the land Prepared by the skill of each delicate hand Oh ! where is the town that such bounty can spread 'Till all the old vets in the city are fed? West Liberty. And now when the comrades will travel their ways They will bring to their mind the pleasantest days, They ever hav: spent in any good town Upon which the old sun has ever looked down ; And now in conclusion 'tis nothing but fair That God bless its people be ever our prayer, West Liberty. Of all the good people who meet in the town Or yet farther out in the country around, And distribute their blessings on needy and poor There are none that will equal our womanly corps. In sickness and sorrow they're always on hand With nr.ver a shirker in that noble band, But workers who always the idle ignore, And none but the faithful belong to the Corps. In planning and doing, I'm sure we can boast 33 The're always some distance ahead of the Post, On social occasions we yield them the floor And always submit to the will of the Corps. Auxiliary never! we blush with the shame Of any poor sinner who gave them the name ; For no one is needed to write up their brief j May God's richest blessing be on our Relief.- FOR DECORATION DAY Pause awhile where sleep the brave 'Strew the garlands o'er each grave, Place the flag above their head In the city of the dead. They served us well and now they lay Within their tenements of clay; In peaceful rest and sweetest sleep The while their silent vigils keep. God marks the spot and knows it well Where every single comrade fell, And when he comes to claim his own Our loved ones will be gathered home. AN INCIDENT We had been to the Depot, our friends there to meet And were drawn up in line by the side of the street, "Touch elbows" my comrades I heard some one say While giving command (in a jocular way). ru I touched to the left, with a feeling quite plain And swayed to the right, but a sensible pain Stole over my frame while led to believe My elbow touched naught but an empty sleeve. A story it told of the days of the past When the smoke of the battle, the sky overcast, When the heroes of blue were mixed with the gray And many laid low in the midst of the fray. The field fraught with carnage and red rivers run From blush of the morning 'till set of the sun, And foot horse and rider were closing the space Where many brave comrades went down in their place. Those battles are over, peace hovers again O'er hilltop and valley and mountain and plain; May our nation be living when rivers are dry And always be lasting as stars in the sky. TO OUR SOLDIER DEAD We will come to the spot Where dead comrades lay, And garland their tombs In the sunshine of May; And think of their deeds Of times that are passed, And cherish their names While memory lasts. 35 KE PL Y (Reply to Invitation to Regimental Reunion.) Some paint splendid sketches To hang on the wall, But fancy paints pictures At memory's call ; And mine draws a picture To please you I ween, Of welcome sojourners At old Muscatine. i The "})oys" are seen gathering In one by one, Musicians are beating Away at the drum And every true member Of that little band Is greeting his comrade With shake of the hand. And in the commotion I plainly can see There's room for the comrade Of Company G. So while you are joining In that happy throng, Remember your servant Is coming along. 86 THE KECEPTION A time and place where all can meet And each their friends and comrades greet, And live the young days o'er again Forgetting they are gray-haired men. Old sisters too, with faded curls Can quote the time when they were girls, And yet enjoy this life so brief Before they join the last relief. Where horrors of war Have been overspread The calmness of peace Is reigning instead. The harvester gathers His crop in the sun Where once was the booming Of cannon and gun. The lark., builds her nest In the ripening grain Where the valleys were red With the blood of the slain. May the great God of War With his withering hand Henceforth keep aloof From our own native land. Let our sons and our daughters 37 Ne'er know the barm Of the dreadful condition Of wars dread alarm. WASHINGTON Of all the men e'er known to fame Who earned themselves a deathless name And helped to formulate a plan To give good government to man, There was Columbia's favorite son Our own beloved Washington. We need not ask the sect or creed Of those who knew their country's need ; He used the force of truth and might To battle for the cause of right, And never halted 'till he won The name of Father Washington. There never was an act to mar His honor in his day of war, And gratitude should never cease For all he did in time of peace; Let every land beneath the sun Revere the name of Washington, PUTTING DOWN THE REBELLIOX I could not tell whether I'd better enlist Than try to fight rebels alone wid me fist Of course I would rather have me own way And do all the wurruk and have all the pay, 38 jFor what wag the use of an army of men If I could do all of the fighting and then I'd surely put down the Rebellion. But while I was thinkin' as sure as the fate Behold all me plans were a little too late ; They said I would have to join into the ranks And learn all their blatherin bothersome pranks. They made me believe I'd always feel proud And have at my back an illegant crowd, Then I could put down the Rebellion. They made us all stand in a very straight line And dressed us in clothes that made us look fine Then gave us a harness wid buckles and straps Some little square boxes with buttons and flaps And said our supplies had only begun And handed to each a very fine gun With which to put down the Rebellion. Then clothes and blankets were put on our back In spider like fixin' called a knapsack, Another fine sack that looked rather neat They said it would hold all we wanted to eat, Something for drink for every spalpeen Was hung on his side and called a canteen And helped to put down the Rebellion. Now we had to carry this luggage of course (While all the big bosses could ride on a horse) And often must carry wherever we went A nate little cottage they called a pup tent A knife and a fork, a tin plate and spoon As sure as me name is John Patrick Muldoon And I must put down the Rebellion. Wid cooking arrangements not very complete 39 They did us quite well when we'd nothing to eat ; Sometimes when in danger provision would lack We had some queer crackers, they called 'em "hard tack" And some thin and soft almost ready to walk And surely created abundance of talk. And helped to prolong the Rebellion. After we'd sogered some several months I got the rheumatics, (it came all at once) It drew up my ankle so tight and so sore It appeared that it never would walk any more, They gave me some crutches to hobble around And said that I surely would never be sound, Or fit to put down the Rebellion. Off to a hospital they sent me at last Because my leg was stiffening fast; A pompous old doctor with heart very large Sat down to a table and wrote me discharge, "When out of the army the truth I will tell I threw down me crutches and walked very well And that's how I put down the Rebellion. PATRIOTIC POEMS (Written during the Spanish- American War.) COMPANY F, FOKTY-NINTH IOWA When spirit of rancor and haughty disdain Caused arrogant Spaniards to blow up the Maine And deal death and danger both near and afar Our country was saddened with terrible war. Armies pushed forward with quickening life And boldly marched onward to enter the strife- 'Midst moving battalions all forming abreast Behold our young soldiers of Company F. In camp at Des Moines with uncertain fate They drill and recruit and anxiously wait; At last the despatch is sent o'er the lines To establish a camp in the Florida pines. At the end of the journey without any pomp They were ordered to tent in a Jacksonville swamp; With days hot as fury and nights that were cool And mosquitoes as big as a Government Mule. 'Mid ponds that were fjfhy and pools that were vile Decay and destruction to every square mile; The fumes of malaria in each passing breath Forced soldiers to struggle and wrestle with death. Death seized on the brow of the youth that was fair And ended in triumph his suffering there; And many young martyrs were taken away Their life going out in the camp where they lay . With close of the summer of heat and of rain 41 They struck all their tents and travelled again; This time at Savannah, their banner unfurled And all quite agreed they had struck a new world. The people were loyal, kind hearted, and true To every good soldier who sported the blue, Their day of Thanksgiving they'll never forget The greatest of banquets that ever was set. But pleasures are short at best as they fly And soon all our boys bid Savannah good-bye. They crossed over ocean and threw out the chain, And rode safe at anchor by wreck of The Maine. Through filthy Havanna 'twas never a pity They marched them eight mile? quite out of the city ; And now fairly settled on old Cuban soil They rested awhile from their travel and toil. With Spaniards and Cubans and strange habitations They studied the fixtures and mixtures of nations; And yet after all of this foreign training Still there was much of the Yankee remaining:. *& With four months of duty in Cuban domain The Government orders them homeward again. Imagine how lively they dance in their shoes And throw up their hats as they welcome the news. The band, with the cheering not being outdone Paraded camp streets to the tune of Sweet Home. A few days they waited then marched to the shore Embarked to return to God's Country once more- Though crowded aboard of a very small ship In danger of sinking while making the trip, 42 They breasted the billows for many a mile Yet landed all safe at the quarantine isle. All things from the land of our Cuban relation Must here undergo an intense fumigation, The process delayed them some five days or more Before they arrived on Columbia's bright shore. Some weeks at Savannah and then homeward bound No happier boys could ever be found; And conscious of soldierly duties well done They are welcomed to greetings and pleasures of home. TO THE LADIES OF SAVANNAH, GEORGIA In dreams of their kindred And homes far away, In camp at Savannah The Seventh Corps lay; The call of the bugle Arose on the air, Interrupting repose And their visions so fair; And now of the weather They anxiously pray, For all of them knew It was Thanksgiving day. Although cloudless skies The morning deposes They little can gaess What the evening discloses. Whatever camp duties 43 Devolved on the boys, The did them quite willing Without any noise. And not a man winced Or thought it a pity To see a great storm Pouring out of the city. Tornadoes of turkeys Were hurled into space, And cakes, frujts and flowers Kept up with the pace. The ladies came out And showed they were able To settle the storm Just over each table. A far better feast Was provided for all Then ever was spread In Delmonico's hall. And those who write history This truth may convey Fifteen thousand soldiers Were conquered that day. The Forty-ninth Iowa Shared in the fray; Our brave Company F Were "captured" they say: Yet we here at home Ever thankful will be 44 To the kind hearted people 'Way down by the sea. Those patriot ladies So loyal and true Will ne'er be forgotten ' By soldiers in blue. You boast of the power Of sword and of pen, But kindness of women Will conquer the men. THE VACANT ROOM OF OTJR SOLDIER BOY There is a room in the house that is silent and tenantless Just up to the right at the end of the hall, The occupant left us one April spring morning With the first to respond to his country's call. His clothes neatly brushed still hang in the closet Hats, caps and cuffs as he left them there, Papers, letters, small boxes with trinkets, And even the gloves he used to wear. The books and the furniture too are the same The bed and the chair so vacant withal ; There's never a sound or a tread of his footstep ISTor any response to the morning call. The rays of the morning peep in at the casement And fall on the downy pillow so white, And leaves it the same when the evening sunset Sinks to repose in the silence of night- 45 We long to see shoes and collar and necktio Or books and papers lying about The usual swing of the door on its hinges Or an echoing sound passing in and out. Will he return in the beautiful spring time? Or will he come when the May flowers blooin, And help to deposit the sweetest garlands Over death stricken comrades silent tomb. Let it be in the evening twilight Let it be in the morning or noon, We shall all be anxiously waiting To welcome our gallant soldier home. PATHETIC REPLY TO THE "SILENT ROOM" (By Ned Henderson, Savannah, Ga.) Ken you the room that is silent at present? Well open it ! air it ! and furbish up things ! For the tenant will home be, some pleasant May morning On seagirt Dunfuskie, he now Home Again sings. He's even now at the doors of Savannah; Get the neatly brushed clothes laid out to his hand, The hat, and the cuffs, and other adornments, That are dear to the heart of the youth of our land ; Sadly he'll need them on arrival at Tipton After skirmishing with the quarantine men ; They'll fumigate, suffocate, everything on him He'll need clothes after passing through the "fumigate den." Grieve not, at the non response to your calling, He's busy now answering calls by the sea, Though much he'd prefer to answer your hailing He's constrained now to answer at dawn reveille. Will he come in the spring time your doubtfully query- Yes, dear ones ; he'll embrace you in a few weeks at most, Have the fatted calf killed, and dress chickens and turkeys ; But say ! keep can beef out of his sight, even should it be roast. OUR FLAG The flag of our fathers Is worthy our care As the grandest of banners Unfurled to the air, Since the same starry embler Decended to us Let no jealous eye See it trail in the dust. No matter what happens We always shall hope Columbia's children Will keep it afloat. 47 PROMISCUOUS POEMS THE PIONEERS When God in his wisdom Made forest and plain The river, the lake, And the treacherous main, To fully complete His original plan, Took dust of the earth And created a man, And placed him alone In garden and bowers, Then sent a companion To care for the flowers; But this happy couple Without a good cause, Disobeyed one command In regard to the laws. Then by their transgression Were soon dispossessed And packing their things Started out for the West And so it has been With the children of men ; Each in their turn Moving westward again ; 48 Then crossing old ocean With daring and zeal, They sought a new empire, And there a new field. They paused as they touched On the pebbly strand And offered up thanks For the beautiful land. But soon their good children, Adventurous, free Extended their settlements Far from the sea. The next generation Ne'er counted it loss, Great mountains and riveis To travel across, And build up their homes From Ohio's broad tide To the great Northern lakes Extending so wide. Then with fast fleeting years A generation at best, There came the old story "We must strike for the west" For the pride of the west In the distance was seen, Like a wide spreading meadow All covered with green ; And the "Father of Waters" Could never run dry 49 'Till the last pioneer Reached the "Sweet Bye and Bye. The homes of first settlers Somehow it would seem Were built near the forest Or swift running stream ; But to those who came later The vision appeared 'Twas easier farming Where land was all cleared. And now my kind friends While the thread I pursue I have come to the time I am speaking of you. Having crossed the great river You came to a stand And staked off your claim In the "Beautiful Land." With much to encounter And much to fulfill, A resolute purpose And sturdy good will. You battled with tempest And fever and flood, And oft in your travels Were stuck in the mud. But keeping your courage You always allowed Behind the dark curtain . There shone a "bright cloud." 50 'T would take many volumes To fill up the years, Your joys and your sorrows Your smiles and your tears. Your struggles and hardships And their recompense, Were all wisely managed By good common sense. The while you were toiling Both early and late You laid the foundation And built up a state. A state none the better Was ever possessed By any good people Who live in the west. You leave to your children A legacy grand We hope will be cherished With reverent hand. You'll soon reach the river Which many have crossed, And ne'er may your bark By the tempest be tossed ; But land you all safe On the furthermost shore, To answer the roll Of the Pioneer Corps. 51 FOB MY SIS TEE'S GOLDEN WEDDI Away down in the shadowy distance Of the bright days that are past and gone There is many a fond remembrance It is pleasant to linger upon. When hopes beat high in your bosoma And you thought you had nothing to fear, That the fragrant breath of the roses Would continue throughout the year. One pleasant day in the autumn Before chill of the wintry weather In heart and hand united You started life's journey together. No journey ever so pleasant But has trials along the way And many a night of darkness Is followed by beautiful day. You have often thought of your children While they were so long away, But now their pattering footsteps Are with you again today. Your hearts beat high with the pleasure Of having them home again They are still those self -same children Only grown to be women and men. They think of your years together, And none of them spent in vain, Your constant faith in each other, A solace for every pain. 52 Though Fifty years together And travelling down the slope, That your years may yet be many, We trust with a fervent hope : And when you have crossed the river And safe on the other shore, May that life be always sunshine, And happy for evermore. * * APPEAL OF THE OLD BELL TO FORMER MEMBERS OF TIPTON UNION SCHOOL Come gather round ye schoolmates gray And let us spend a holiday Come out into the open air And banish every earthly care Let joyful greeting here abound And music reign with sweetest sound And every time the chorus swell By ringing out the old school bell. Your feet were lithe and glib my tongue In days when you and I were young; I reigned as with a royal crown, But time decreed I "must come down;" Since then I've lived in sad disgrace Shut up in some secluded place; But now am out to hear you tell How you revere your old school bell. Your steps have wandered far I ween Since days yon played upon the green ; 53 A few have lingered here and wait And open out the wicket gate In welcome to each heart and soul That come and answer to the roll But many more 'tis sad to tell Will never answe to the bell. Their graves are scattered far and wide From prairie land to ocean tide A number of that noble band Lost life and limb in Southern land, But few out of the Forty told Who answered to the muster roll, Are left their hardships here to tell And answer to their old school bell. Now teachers, scholars, all that will Have parts allotted to fulfill, Each of you have some pleasant home While I am left to live alone. Now don't you think it would be fair In my old age to give me care, And let no stranger ever tell You have no home for Your Old Bell. FOR McKINLEY CAMPAIGN The hosts that gather 'round about Have rent the air with joyful shout Let every form be palsied, dead Who on fair freedom's banner tread. Let fiendish Anarchism rife No more renew its lease of life, 54 Let labor bring its just reward And howling demagogues ignored. Who teach the worthless money craze Throughout the coming autumn days., Let every tongue the truth impart And swell with pride the nation's heart. Protection's aim and noble cause Shall be sustained by wholesome laws. Let Union sailors motto be America on every sea. Ring out the shout with loud acclaim From Western Sea to Coast of Maine ; While from the Gulf an echo- flies Clear out across the iSTorthern skies. Let every voice unite as one And shout for freedom's loyal son, McKinley shall our leader be And crown our glorious victory. ABE L I ST O L N Who argued well for fredom's cause And advocated better laws To stay the tyrant's swelling powers That grappled with this land of ours And crushed the poor man and the slave With an increasing tidal wave ? Abe Lincoln. Who issued forth the grand decree 55 All colored folks should hence be free From ocean unto ocean's wave No banner float above a slave And all our nation must agree For equal rights and liberty ? Abe Lincoln. HUMOROUS PAKODY ON WASHINGTON (Old School book pictures his hatchet like an ax.) While Washington was very young And while his nerves were yet unstrung, He grasped his ax, its blade to try And tried it on a tree near by. He chopped away with might and main Until the tree was lowly lain; To ply the ax was royal fun Until he thought what he had done. And as the tear sprang to his eye He sobbed good bye to cheery p:e; And left the spot a wiser boy While sadness took the place of joy. The father passed along the way To where the boy had been at play, And when he saw what had been done He went and called his favorite son; "My boy" he said, you plainly see Some one has cut that splendid tree," 56 The lad replied "I cannot lie" "You bought that ax for me to try." * * TOAST "Here's to the years that are stretching ahead To the days that are blithsome and gay, May the joys of the old be the joys of the new And the sorrows fade gently away." RESPONSE Like a soft gentle breeze Springing up from the past And dispelling the gloom From a sky overcast, So the thoughts of the days That forever have fled, Give strength to our courage And lead us ahead. May naught but the sunshine Appear to our view While life's pleasant valley WeVe travelling through May neither the prophet The seer nor the sage Discourage the thoughts Of a happy old age. 57 WRITTEN FOR BOOK OF QUOTATIONS While shifting along Through this valley of sorrow, Corn meal or brown coffee Are easy to borrow ; And nuggets of wisdom You freely dispense By using quotations At others expense. Corn meal or brovm coffee Are easily earned But borrowed quotations Are seldom returned. FOR THE AGED An act, a word to cheer us on O'er life's tempestuous seas, Are cherished from the days agone As pleasant memories. To grasp the hand and hear the voice Still filled with joyful praise Brings back our youth and aids our strength In our declining days. FOR LEAP YEAR The Recording Angel Has his busy days, 58 And don't always take note Of the different ways, That humanity's history Often discloses Of the courage or doubt Of the one who proposes; Yet it makes little odds In the usual plan, Whether man asks the woman Or woman the man. CHRISTMAS Hail Christmas day of all the year We gladly know you're drawing near And while it brings good lessons all To young and old and great and small, This day of all to us was given To bring us all more near to Heaven: "Peace on earth, good will toymen" And truth and justice ever reign. 59 State Printing Co.. Lincoln, Nebraska. MBRAHY GAYLAMOUNT PAMPHLET BINDER This book is DUE on the last date stamped below -