University Anthology

of weary days. Soul of France! thy Roland yet Is riding through thy land; Trumpet-lips his lips have met, On sword-hilt set his hand! ?Francis Paxton.BING! With smashing swing Sir Julian Byng Has bifft the Bodies' line, And Fritz has fled like anything? Gone where the woodbines twine! 'Twas British pluck, and no good luck, That crumpld Fritzy's cellars; Pitch in, Sir Byng, you good old buck, And biff him till he hellers! Oh! Tommy's there, and on a tear? He "carries on" like thunder; He's here and there, and everywhere? Where will he stop? I wonder. ?Francis Paxton. Nov. 25, 1917. TO BELGIUM. "The bravest of all arc the. Belgians."?Caesar. Brave little nation of toi'ers, Bravest of all the Tjrave, Trodden by reptile spoilers, Triumphing over the grave! Drag now the days so bitter (Grinds the gods' great mill!) Spoilers shall vanish as litter? Abides thy godlike will! None shall station deny thee, When strikes the hour of fate; None but madmen decry thee, Warder of freedom's gate ! ?Francis Paxton. THE ALLIED AIRFLEETS. Aloft thru heaven's high halls The airplanes dip and plunge; Where morn or even's breath calls They leap and loop and lunge. Thru opalescent mist, In clouds that melt and roll, Thru smoke by sunlight kiss, Dealing to Death his dole. Pi'ots of courage rare, Daredevils grim and grave, Gunners who do and 9are, Keep you God, and save! Yo...