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Show LET HIM LIVE " The following striking verses were penned by an unknown author who, for some reason, chooses to conceal his or her identity. Inasmucl as the manuscript was first found in a Christmas packet sent to a Lan caster, Ohio, soldier, being one of a number prepared by the girls of tha place, it is generally supposed that the lines were composed by sonii gifted girl whose home is somewhere in the Buckeye State. All at tempts to identify the author have thus far failed. Because of the strangi manner in which the verses found publicity they deserve, as well as fo their own intrinsic literary value, they have excited unusual comment am favorable criticism in the East. The lines follow: As long as flowers their perfume give. So long I'd let the kaiser live Live and live for a million years. With nothing to drink but Belgian tears, With nothing to quench his awful thirst But the salted brine of a Scotchman's curse. I would let him live on a dinner each day, Served from silver on a golden tray Served with things both dainty and sweet Served with everything but things to eat. And I'd make him a bed of silken sheen, With costly linens to lie between, With covers of down and fillets of lace, And downy pillows piled in place; Yet when to this comfort he would yield. It should stink with rot of the battlefield, And blood and bones and brains of men Should cover him, smother him and then His pillow should cling with the rotten cloy, Cloy from the grave of a soldier boy. And while God's stars their vigils keep, And while the waves the white sands sweep, He should never, never, never sleep. And through all the days, through all the years There should be an anthem in his ears, Ringing and singing and never done From the edge of light to the set of sun, Moaning and moaning, and moaning wild A ravaged French girl's bastard child! And I should build him a castle by the sea, As lovely a castle as ever could be; Then I'd show him a ship from over the sea, As fine a ship as ever could be, Laden with water cold and sweet, Laden with everything good to eat; Yet scarce does she touch the silvered sands, Scarce may he reach his eager hands, Than a hot and a hellish molten shell Should change his heaven into hell, And though he'd watch on the wave swept shore, Our Lusitania would rise no more! In "No Man's Land," where the Irish fell, I'd start the kaiser a private hell; I'd jab him, stab him, give him gas; In every wound I'd pour ground glass; I'd march him out where the brave boys died, Out past the lads they crucified. In the fearful gloom of his living tomb, There is one thing I'd do before I was through: I'd make him sing, in a stirring manner, The wonderful words of "The Star-Spangled Banner." |