Read Ebook: Chants for the Boer by Miller Joaquin

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Ebook has 89 lines and 8915 words, and 2 pages

His shield a skin, his sword a prayer: Seventy-five years old to-day! Yet mailed young hosts are marshaling there To hound down in his native lair-- Oom Paul Kruger, South Africa.

Mars! Ever was such shameless shame? Christ's calend calls the roll to-day, Yet Christians write the sweet Christ's name In blood, and seek, with sword and flame-- Oom Paul Kruger, South Africa.

Stand firm, grim shepherd-hero, stand! The world's watchtowers teem to-day With men who pray with lifted hand For you and yours, old, simple, grand-- Oom Paul Kruger, South Africa.

God's pity for the foolish few Who guide great England's hosts to-day! They cannot make the false the true; They can but turn true hearts to you-- Oom Paul Kruger, South Africa.

Or king or cowboy, steep or plain, Or palace hall, where, what--to-day, All, all, despite of place or gain, Are with you, with you heart and brain-- Oom Paul Kruger, South Africa.

USLAND TO THE BOERS.

And where lies Usland, Land of Us? Where Freedom lives, there Usland lies! Fling down that map and measure thus Or argent seas or sapphire skies: To north the North Pole, south as far As ever eagle cleaved his way; To east the blazing morning star, And west? West to the Judgment Day!

No borrowed lion, rampt in gold; No bleeding Erin, plaintive strains; No starving millions, mute and cold; No plundered India, prone in chains; No peaceful farmer, forced to fly Or draw his plowshare from the sod, And, fighting, one to fifty, die For freedom, fireside and God.

Fear not, brave, freeborn, voiceless Boers. Great Usland's heart is yours to-day. Aye, England's heart of hearts is yours, Whatever scheming men may say. Her scheming men have mines to sell, And we? Why, meat and corn and wheat. But, Boers, all brave hearts wish you well; For England's triumph means defeat.

It is a waste of ink and energy to write "United States of America" always. All our property is marked Us. Then why not Usland? And why should we always say American? The Canadian, the Mexican, the Brazilian and so on are as entirely entitled to the name American as we. Why not say Usman, as Frenchman, German, and so on?

THAT USSIAN OF USLAND.

"I am an Ussian true," he said; "Keep off the grass there, Mister Bull! For if you don't I'll bang your head And bang your belly-full.

"Now mark, my burly jingo-man, So prone to muss and fuss and cuss, I am an Ussian, spick and span, From out the land of Us!"

The stout man smole a frosty smile-- "An Ussian! Russian, Rusk, or Russ?" "No, no! an Ussian, every while; My land the land of Us."

"Aw! Usland, Uitland? or, maybe, Some Venezuela I'd forgot. Hand out your map and let me see Where Usland is and what."

The lank man leaned and spread his map And shewed the land and shewed, Then eyed and eyed that paunchy chap, And pulled his chin and chewed.

"What do you want?" A face grew red, And red chop whiskers redder grew. "I want the earth," the Ussian said, "And all Alaska, too.

"My stars swim up yon seas of blue; No Shind am I, Boer, Turk or Russ. I am an Ussian--Ussian true; My land the land of Us.

"My triple North Star lights me on, My Southern Cross leads ever thus; My sun scarce sets till burst of dawn. Hands off the Land of Us!"

FIGHT A BOY OF YOUR SIZE.

Back, far back in that backwood's school Of Lincoln, Grant and the great we prize We boys would fight, but we had one rule-- You must fight a boy of your size.

Or white boy or brown, aye, Boer no doubt, Whatever the quarrel, whatever the prize You must stand up fair and so fight it out With a boy somewhat your size.

But a big boy spoiled so for fights, he did, He lied most diplomatic-like-lies And he fought such fights--ye gods forbid-- But never a boy of his size.

He skinned and he tanned, kept hide, kept hair, Now I am speaking figure-wise-- But he didn't care who and he didn't care where Just so he was under size.

Then the big boy cried, "A big chief am I, I was born to bang and to civilize, And yet sometimes I, in my pride I sigh For something about my size."

Then the good Schoolmaster he reached a hand And across his knee he did flop crosswise That bully, and raise in his good right hand A board of considerable size.

And the good Schoolmaster he smote that chief, He smote both hips and he smote both thighs; And he said as he smote, "It is my belief This board is about your size."

Beware the bully, of his words beware, His triangular lips are a nest of lies, For he never did dare and he never will dare, To bang a boy of his size.

MILLER, C. H.

PRICE. Beautifully Bound in Silk Cloth, side and back stamp in gilt, gilt top 50 Gift Edition, bound in three-quarter Levant 4 50 Limited Autograph Edition, bound in full Morocco 7 50

WHAT TWO GREAT POPULAR POETS SAY:

Edwin Arnold recently said: "Joaquin Miller is one of the two greatest American poets."

James Whitcomb Riley said of Joaquin Miller's singing: "It is the truest American voice that has yet thrilled the echoes of our wild, free land, and awakened the admiration and acclaim of the Old World. No marvel that our Country is proud of this proud child of hers, who in all lands has sung her dawning glory and his own changeless loyalty to her."

This volume contains this well known poet's latest, and as pronounced by all critics, best poetic productions. The longest poem, entitled "Sappho and Phaon," occupies seventy-three pages of the book, and is destined to become a classic. Besides this there are several of his older and most popular poems, such as "Columbus," "Passing of Tennyson," "Sunset and Dawn at San Diego," etc., making a 12 mo. volume of 163 pages, with author's latest portrait.

PRICE. Bound in Fine Silk Cloth, design on cover, Library Edition 00 Author's Autograph Gift Edition, bound in full padded Leather 3 50 Paper Edition, printed in Gilt 25

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES:

Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.

Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

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