THE CRUISE OF THE SEA SERPENT And now behold the Merchant Submarine! Only its peeking periscope is seen, But what a cyclorama it reveals To those below! Thru surging seas it steals And vies with dolphins, porpoises and sharks To keep apace with brigantines and barks; And, tho itself unseen, it's proud to show To what low depths a submarine can go. The Cyclops sees as well by night as day; Its father, Neptune, gives it right of way: Amphibious, it rides the Ocean's crest, Or in its sunken Gardens takes its rest. This new-type boat we designate as It Because no other pronoun seems to fit. No water-laden craft could be a He, Nor one unspoken could be rated She. The Germans call it _unter_: O. U. Cargo! They aim to close the bar on the embargo. Beneath the waves no lurching doth it feel But speeds its course upon an even keel. With duplex engines and a double crew, (It's "manned" by mermaids when it's hid from view). It scoffs at dangers, tho they lurk around, And shuts its _eye_ to perils that abound. There's scant spare space, but still its ribs enfold A priceless cargo in its shallow hold. Past hostile ships into a neutral haven, It comes up smiling with all flags a wavin'. But now these "Cargo Craft" throw off disguise And cut our neutral throats: it's no surprise That dastards, who as "scraps of paper" rate Their solemn Treaties, would thus lie in wait And murder innocents without emotion, Making a shambles of the outraged Ocean. Now lashed to fury, see the waves rebel And sweep these Prussian Pirates down to Hell! No longer neutral the Avenging Sword Is in our hands to smite the Hun-hound horde. The God of Joshua, in righteous wrath Will, in its flight thru empyrean path, Command the Sun to stop: it is His will! Till _Kultur_ be effaced--and not until. AMERICA America, Crusader in the Cause Of Liberty, before thy shrine we pause And offer grateful prayer that thou art Right In making demonstration of thy Might. Without a thought of Conquest doth thou draw Thine honored sword for Liberty and Law, That Nations of a common tongue, tho weak, May gain the Peace with Freedom that they seek; And occupy again, when battles cease, Their places in the Firmament of Peace. Fight on! Defender of the Cause! till Truth Shall banish Tyranny and Wars forsooth, And throttle _Kultur_ and its godless School, Till Teutons, purged, obey the Golden Rule! LIFE AND LOVE Life is the Echo of the Buried Past; A Soul reclaimed, an Atom born anew: Its fire burns on, tho flickering at the last, And finds its grand fulfillment, Love, in you. LIFE IN DEATH