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Read Ebook: The Bee's Bayonet (a Little Honey and a Little Sting) Camouflage in Word Painting by Watrous Edwin Alfred
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Ebook has 220 lines and 24827 words, and 5 pages
's growling: or is it a snore? Perhaps he objects to his bed on the floor? So pick up your treasures and when prayers are said-- Run along, Little Girl, and climb in to bed!
Run along, Little Girl! The Sandman is here; You've crowded too much into one day, I fear! Poor, little, tired Girlie, you've worked at your play Till the bloom of your cheeks has faded away. To-morrow, again, you can sit by the fire And dress all your Dollies in gala attire. Say, Good Night! to your thimble, needle and seams; Run along, Little Girl, and sweet be your dreams!
To-morrow Bow-wow can be hitched to your sled And draw you to Grandma's to see Piggie fed; No harm can befall you when Mother is near; Run along, Little Girl, and God bless you, Dear!
A RETROSPECT
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
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
THE CRUISE OF THE SEA SERPENT
AMERICA
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
Why should we dread the Messenger of Death? Who comes as friend when sufferings beset, And gives surcease of pain with final breath So that Life leaves, rejoiced, without regret.
GERMANY
O, Hun, from what low beast didst thou descend? That thou shouldst have the lust to kill and rend; The bestial passion to enjoy the groans Of suffering victims, while you crunch their bones Or gouge their eyes, that mutely plead in vain For quick oblivion and ease from pain? Of ponderous cast and savage mien, what teat, With Hatred filled and Passion's fiery heat, Reared thee more wolf than man? ill-bred,--a curse To thine own kind, and to the Universe!
ITALY
Italians, hold! Rienzi pleads again Against the Tyrants: hold if ye be men! Let not the foe despoil your fertile lands Or wrest historic treasures from your hands! Guard well your daughters! Shield your budding sons! Lest they be maimed or murdered by the Huns. Soldiers of Italy, would ye be slaves To Teuton hordes? Behold the sacred graves Of Garibaldi and your martyred dead Who made ye Freemen! Wouldst be slaves instead? The Alpine Passes that were yours are lost; Your Northern Rivers have been reached and crossed; Hold, Romans, hold! Halt further Teuton gains, And drive their looting legions from your plains! Hold! Men of Italy! Your wall of steel Can save fair Venice from the Despot's heel: Hold! Every man! for Honor, Country, Home-- And for the Glory of Eternal Rome!
MARY IS MERRY NO MORE
The Lamb that accompanied Mary Without aid of cudgel or rope, Was raised by her sire Elder Berry, And washed with dioxygen soap.
Its fleece, like the linen-spread table, Was snow-white: the lambkin was prized And kept from the sheep in the stable Who never were deodorized.
The lamb had a yearning for knowledge, And schoolward would follow the lass Till she was admitted to college, A graduate out of his class.
Then sheep-eyes were made by the teacher, And Mary was quick to decide 'Twixt him and the poor, woolly creature Who made lambentations and died.
She married her Teacher,--a lesson! Dyspeptic and old, he's a fright! Her thoughts fail of fitting expression, So she lams her own kids just for spite. She looks at her spouse with deep loathing, And sighs for her dead quadruped, And wishes the "wolf in sheep's clothing"--
I SHOT AN ARROW
I shot an arrow: how it sang! It was a poisoned arrow! And when it turned, a boomerang, It chilled me to the marrow.
I know not where the arrow struck, And care but little whether It came straight back or ran amuck Upon the near-by heather.
An orderly approached the Royal Pair Just at this stage and left despatches there. He stood at close attention, hand to head, While this absorbing cablegram was read-- "Outflanked and captured; resignation tendered; Mooses dehorned and all the herd surrendered! Am looking for another job already,-- Would take the German Presidency--Teddy."
The Kaiser turned, looked at the Prince and wept, While noxious gases o'er the bulwarks crept.
LOVE'S RECOMPENSE
ADAM'S ALE
RUSSIA
Canst Thou, in all this babel, build aright Freedom's Palladium? The long, black night That, ages thru, hath dimmed your yearning eyes And dulled your minds, still hovers o'er your skies. A rift there was, disclosing to your view The Dawn of Day, but then the darkness grew Yet more intense, as if the Sun rebelled At such a cheerless greeting and withheld Its Light. And now again Night reigns supreme, But just beyond the Day is all agleam.
BELGIUM
Sad-eyed and weary, Thou must suffer more, Until thy supermen have paid the score For outraged daughters, murdered sons and wives; For ravaged homesteads, and brave soldiers' lives. Be not dismayed! Altho your Cup of Woe Is full to overflowing from the blow; Tho Justice seems indifferent to your prayer, And ruin stalks about you everywhere. The day of reckoning is near at hand, When Justice will restore your pillaged Land, And Vengeance will unsheath its righteous blade And flay the Teutons till your score is paid.
OUR FRIENDS ACROSS THE STREET
When we're tired of reading essays, Tho they be a mental treat; When we're bored by social callers, Be they ever so elite; When we crave some relaxation Or the Foursome's incomplete, We S. O. S. or telephone To our Friends across the Street.
When our larder needs renewing Or our ice succumbs to heat; When the signs of Drought are brewing 'Cause our "stock" is incomplete; And our chairs are insufficient When we have some guests to seat, Why, we just go out and borrow From our Friends across the Street.
When we're worried or in trouble, And our projects meet defeat; When our prospects seem quite hopeless,-- Life seems bitter that was sweet; When we lose our nerve and falter 'Cause the rough way wounds our feet, We can always find sweet comfort In our Friends across the Street.
When we end, at last, our journey And the saintly Peter greet, Or descend to Realms Infernal Where the Goats, rejected, bleat, We would never feel contented, Whether mixed with Chaff or Wheat, If we couldn't be together With our Friends across the Street.
EPITAPHS
Wed Bled Fled Dead Nufsed
Go not the way I went, O Mortal Man! But follow out a more successful plan, Lest you, as I am now, remorseful be For imitating U. S. Currency.
For forty cents an hour I slaved At Delpont's Powder Mills; And all the money that I saved Scarce paid my funeral bills.
Above the clouds I sojourn now, The twinkling stars between, Because I tried to figure how To cook with gasolene.
I'm not averse to being dead, But this I do despise,-- To have a tombstone at my head Inscribed with blooming lies: "A faithful spouse, a parent kind; Alas, too soon he went!"
But this is all they had in mind-- To get my last red cent.
Assembled here my Wife is, Helen Nation: 'Twas gasoline that caused the separation, Which shows how very short the mortal lease is,-- I think 'twas lucky to have saved the pieces!
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