Lord, Thou didst suffer more for me Than all the hosts of land and sea. So let me render back again This millionth of Thy gift. Amen. WHEN THE SIXTY-NINTH COMES BACK The Sixty-ninth is on its way--France heard it long ago, And the Germans know we’re coming, to give them blow for blow. We’ve taken on the contract, and when the job is through We’ll let them hear a Yankee cheer and an Irish ballad too. The Harp that once through Tara’s Halls shall fill the air with song, And the Shamrock be cheered as the port is neared by our triumphant throng. With the Potsdam Palace on a truck and the Kaiser in a sack, New York will be seen one Irish green when the Sixty-ninth comes back. We brought back from the Border our Flag--’twas never lost; We left behind the land we love, the stormy sea we crossed. We heard the cry of Belgium, and France the free and fair, For where there’s work for fighting-men, the Sixty-ninth is there. The Harp that once through Tara’s Halls shall fill the air with song, And the Shamrock be cheered as the port is neared by our triumphant throng. With the Potsdam Palace on a truck and the Kaiser in a sack, New York will be seen one Irish green when the Sixty-ninth comes back. The men who fought at Marye’s Heights will aid us from the sky, They showed the world at Fredericksburg how Irish soldiers die. At Blackburn Ford they think of us, Atlanta and Bull Run; There are many silver rings on the old flagstaff but there’s room for another one. The Harp that once through Tara’s Halls shall fill the air with song, And the Shamrock be cheered as the port is neared by our triumphant throng. With the Potsdam Palace on a truck and the Kaiser in a sack, New York will be seen one Irish green when the Sixty-ninth comes back. God rest our valiant leaders dead, whom we cannot forget; They’ll see the Fighting Irish are the Fighting Irish yet. While Ryan, Roe, and Corcoran on History’s pages shine, A wreath of laurel and shamrock waits the head of Colonel Hine. The Harp that once through Tara’s Halls shall fill the air with song, And the Shamrock be cheered as the port is neared by our triumphant throng. With the Potsdam Palace on a truck and the Kaiser in a sack, New York will be seen one Irish green when the Sixty-ninth comes back. MIRAGE DU CANTONMENT Many laughing ladies, leisurely and wise, Low rich voice, delicate gay cries, Tea in fragile china cups, ices, macaroons, Sheraton and Heppelwhite and old thin spoons, Rather dim paintings on very high walls, Windows showing lawns whereon the sunlight falls, Pink and silver gardens and broad kind trees, And fountains scattering rainbows at the whim of a breeze, Fragrance, mirth and gentleness, a Summer day In a world that has forgotten everything but play. POEMS AT HOME WARTIME CHRISTMAS