Picture a Home with love aglow and laughter Reverberating from each joist and rafter; A sweet-faced Mother kissing you "Good Night"! With "Go to sleep! lest Santa Claus take fright And dashes by--leaving no books or toys For naughty, wide-eyed, little girls and boys." Then see her tip-toe down the stairs, and trim The tree--a toy on ev'ry outstretched limb; The rocking-horse and wagon at the base, And candy-stockings in the big fireplace: For thus we retrospect to show, no other Would scheme and work and "fabricate" like Mother To make our Christmas Day a grand fruition, And keep the secret of its sweet tradition. THE EAGLE SCREAMS We have arrived! America is First! Here Freedom cradled; here its pæan burst Upon the ears of nations, near and far Till Light of Freedom is the Guiding Star Thruout the world; though Thraldom still obscures The Guiding Star where Tyranny endures. 'Twas ever thus till Boston's "Reb" array Upset King George's teapot in the Bay, And Pegasus, whom we Revere, astride His high-bred hobby, warned the countryside. Before that time the Briton played the game Of _pour la tea_ or Golf (its proper name). With confidence and brassie nerve, methinks, Until they struck a Bunker on our links That thwarted all their prowess--'pon my soul! And left them groggy at the nineteenth hole. But still they puttered 'round and drank our rum Till Washington's avenging time had come; When, with his army, steeled at Valley Forge, He, George the First, uncrowned the other George, And all the "red-breasts," from our eyries shooed Where now the Bird of Freedom guards his brood. THE SERVICE STAR The stars are agleam in their azurine field, Diffusing effulgence afar; But magnitude, lustre and fixedness yield To the glorious Service Star. In aureate setting, a pendant aglare, Is the radiant Service Star; That blazes with fire like a rare solitaire, A gift to the Valkyr of War. Protect thou our treasure, O, Valkyr! Restore Our Jewel so priceless! and bar From Valhalla's Dungeons, where Death's torrents pour, Our sanctified Service Star! SOME DAY Some day when the war is ended And we sail from France away, With sorrow and longings blended, Back home to America; And we live once more in Blighty A thousand years in a day, In the Land of God Almighty Where the Old Folks watch and pray: Some day, when we hit the pillow Again on a box-spring bed, As snug as an armadillo With his shell-protected head; When bugles refrain from tooting, And noises of battle stop; When victory ends recruiting, Or charging Over the Top: _Some_ day! when we're thru with fighting And the beaten Hun retreats; When the Cooties cease from biting And we sleep between the sheets!