Abner Cosens

“ No Russ nor Hun are we,
There's nothing grander here below
Than British liberty.
But when, from nations drowned in tears,
For crimes by Kaiser done,
The cry goes forth for volunteers
To come and fight the Hun;
We must be free at home to stay,
While others take their chance
"Of finding little homes of clay"
In Flanders or in France.
TWENTY YEARS AFTER November, 1917
Where men make bloody sacrifice,
And pile the earth with slain,
Kind Mother Nature ever tries
To cover up the stain. ”

“ The Kaiser's hellish work,
Armenia vainly pleading
For mercy from the Turk.
The Poles and Serbs are dying
The victims of the Huns,
With anguished voices crying,
"O send us men and guns!"
21Think of the Lusitania,
Of martyred Nurse Cavell,
Then say, "Can these be human
Who act like fiends of hell."
The Empire's in the conflict,
And bound to see it through;
Each man the old flag shelters,
Must share the burden too.
Then rise, ye sons of Huron,
All hell has broken loose,
The Kaiser's strafe is on us,
With him we make no truce. ”

“ We believe that some peoples now broken,
And crushed by the Turk and the Hun
Will arise from their darkness unspoken,
And stand in the light of the sun.
And it may be that Germans, grown wiser
And taught at so fearful a cost,
Will have hanged their contemptible Kaiser
And regained the fair name they have lost.
We believe that the allies now fighting,
And lavishing billions untold,
Will have found, in the wrong that needs righting,
A service far better than gold ”

“ If we would the Kaiser thrash.
From the man who owns the millions
To the girl who slings the hash,
All the women busy knitting,
All the men out hoeing beans,
For the war may be decided
By the work behind the scenes. ”

“ The Kaiser was so strong, dad, that Britain almost lost,
The war was hard and long, dad, and none could count the cost.
Our men were firm and brave, dad, and freely shed their blood,
And many found a grave, dad, beneath the Flanders mud. ”

“ THE FRIENDLY SPIES A Tale of Camp Borden November, 1916
The main camping ground of the Huron Indians was near where Camp Borden is now situated.
Where soldiers build their camp fires,
At night there gather 'round
The spirits of the Hurons
From Happy Hunting ground,
No sentry hears their footsteps,
They need no countersigns;
As silent as the moonlight,
They pass within the lines.
Fierce shine their dusky faces
As through the tents they glide,
Once more they smell the war paint
And know a warrior's pride ”

“ Battalions from the prairies
Now man the smoking tubes;
From London and St. Marys,
A regiment of rubes.
Thus, to defend the nation,
They rallied to a man,
Our fighting population
So cosmopolitan.
Not one from danger blenches,
They vie in skill and pluck
And when they reach the trenches,
We call them all Canuck.
FIGHT OR PAY October, 1915
The cause of Freedom needs our help,
The Old Land's in the fray,
It's up to every lion's whelp
To either fight or pay.
The bloody Turk and savage Hun
Still ravish, burn and slay,
Each loyal son must man a gun,
Or stay at home and pay. ”

“ The things you love may worthless prove,
If you don't get your gun, Jean;
Your woods, and mines, your homes and shrines,
May all go to the Hun, Jean.
Our kinsmen brave, across the wave,
The Kaiser have defied, Jean,
British and French, in bloody trench,
Are fighting side by side, Jean. ”

“ Lose his job for life;
If he favors Britain
Has to square his wife.
Holds no trumps nor aces,
Cannot take a trick,
Cards are all queen's faces,
Tino's feeling sick.
Tino never whistles,
Neither does he sing,
Bed of thorns and thistles;
Who would be a king?
57
HAS THE WORLD GONE MAD? December, 1916
What a lack of reason
In this earthly throng!
In and out of season
Everything goes wrong;
Over there in Europe
Kaiser, king and czar,
Raise a mighty flare up,
Plunge a world in war.
Neither king nor kaiser
Down in Mexico,
Are the people wiser? ”

“ The story the centuries tell,
That, for sin, death is still the true wages,
And broad the road leading to hell.
GERMAN SECURITIES FALL
The British guns have spoken
And Bill may lose his crown,
The German line is broken,
And saur-kraut is down.
The gallant French are storming
The Huns with iron hail;
They've given Fritz a warning,
And limburger is stale.
The Russ is westward pushing,
Herding the Huns like sheep,
Thus ends the big four flushing,
And liverwurst is cheap.
King Victor's brave Italians
Are driving back pell-mell
The Austrian battalions
And weiners will not sell. ”

“ To vent the Kaiser's spleen.
The wreckage of the nations,
Ten million dwellings lost,
Murders and mutilations,
The world's great holocaust.
The workman's scanty wages,
The souls of sunken ships;
The faith and hope of ages,
The prayers from human lips;
The livelihood of millions,
The commerce and the trade;
The untold wasted billions
Man's industry had made.
For these I thank the Kaiser;
His efforts please me well;
The world becomes no wiser;
It's growing time in hell."
10
THE CANADIAN WAY January, 1915 ”

“ And we're licking the Germans, be dad!"
The Cockney Canuck from Toronto,
Whom Maple leaves hardly stick on to,
Made haste to enlist,
To fight the mailed fist,
When Canadian born didn't want to.
From where the wide-winged albatross
Floats white 'neath the Southern Cross,
There came the swift cruisers,
And Germans are losers;
Australians want no Kaiser boss. ”

“ There's no one that's quicker at pulling a gun,
He'll sure be a sticker when facing the Hun;
Can camp in a palace, or live in a tent,
Drink wine from a chalice, or eat meat in Lent;
Sweet tongued to the ladies and kind to the kids,
Condemns things to Hades, when down by the skids;
At home on the river, plantation or farm,
Sometimes a high liver who does himself harm.
Abstemious, very, when prices are high,
He learns to be merry without any pie ”

“ Has no place for a man, sir, who does not know the ropes."
"I'm anxious to enlist, sir, I am a Briton true,
To fight the mailed fist, sir, the Kaiser and his crew."
Thus answered Dr. Brown,—"Sir, in one main point you lack;
I'll have to turn you down, sir, because your teeth don't track."
"I'd like to find some work, sir," to Smith, M.P., I spoke;
"I really am no shirk, sir, although I'm stony broke."
Said he, "You poor old lobster, you have a lot to learn,
To get a steady job, sir, you really must intern." ”

“ But when I think me and my chums
Are fighting Fritz in France,
My ma asks if I've done my sums;
A feller gets no chance.
And when I'm marching proudly back
With fifty captured Huns,
My dad will say "retire Jack". ”

“ Each bear his part with loyal heart,
Lest Britain's flag may fall.
THE SLACKER'S SON
"The teacher says at school, dad, that twenty years ago
The Kaiser tried to rule, dad, and plunged the world in woe.
When Britain needed men, dad, to help to fight the Huns,
Boys dropped the plow and pen, dad, to go and man the guns.
Each man he did his share, dad, the loyal, strong and true;
I wish I had been there, dad, to fight along with you.
I'm glad you met no harm, dad, and wear no wooden peg;
For Bill's dad lost an arm, dad, and Jim's dad lost a leg. ”

“ Come on, take your place, Sam, with Johnnie Canuck.
43
FRANCE TO COLUMBIA November, 1916
Columbia, my sister,
Republic great and free,
When Liberty was threatened
I looked in vain to thee;
That hope was vain, my sister,
You lost your greatest chance;
Men live on lies in Utah,
Men die for truth in France.
Columbia, my sister,
You saw my blood run red,
My sons and daughters murdered,
The tears my orphans shed;
You raised no voice in protest,
To stop the Hun's advance;
Men live at ease in Kansas,
With hell let loose in France. ”

“ You never say a word, dad, about this awful fight;
Where is your trusty sword, dad? let's get it out tonight.
The other fellows brag, dad, of what their dads have done,
And Jim's dad has a flag, dad, he captured from a Hun.
And Mr. Sandy Ross, dad, who works down at the mill,
Has a Victoria Cross, dad, for fighting Kaiser Bill;
23And little Tommy Dagg, dad, the youngest of your clerks,
Says his dad was at Bagdad, and shot a hundred Turks.
When we go for a walk, dad, or take our flying car,
You never want to talk, dad, about the mighty war ”

“ So there's really no money in pigee wigee wee.
One little man went to battle,
One little man stayed at home,
One little man got white bread and butter,
One little man got none,
One little man cried see, see, see,
You'll eat brown bread
Till the war is done. ”

“ Three years ago to-day
The Empire's call to every man
Was either fight or pay.
Some men the country well could spare
Their clear-cut duty shun
But all the Blacks have done their share
To help defeat the Hun.
My brother Jim, who worked by spells
(He had a lazy streak)
Is busy now inspecting shells
At forty bones a week.
And Jack, of course, is rather young,
He's just nineteen or so,
And Tom had trouble with his lung
About twelve years ago.
My brother Ben would like to fight,
The Kaiser makes him wild,
But if he went 'twould not be right,
He has a wife and child. ”

“ May pure white lilies blow,
And on the graves of warlike men
The peaceful daisies grow.
The grass is all the greener now
Where men most fiercely strove,
And maids may hear on Vimy's brow
The cooing of the dove. ”

“ Please talk to me tonight, dad, before I go to bed,
Of when you went to fight, dad."
But dad hung down his head.
BLASTED HOPES
We hoped to end our troubled days
Far from the maddening strife,
Erstwhile to chortle roundelays
Of peaceful country life;
But now the phone rings night and morn,
The trolleys crash and bang;
We hear the fearsome auto horn
Where once the thrushes sang.
We hoped the children that we raised,
Those stalwart girls and boys;
Would follow in the trail we blazed
That selfish ease destroys ”

“ McLeans from the byre,
The hamlet, the city, the wide open plains,
The lairds and rapscallions fill up the battalions
With blue blood, with true blood, the loyal McLeans.
66They hear the drums rattle, they rush to the battle,
(Each man in the clan a base coward disdains) ,
They die in their glory, the trenches are gory
With red blood, with shed blood of gallant McLeans.
Afar on the heather, where hame folk foregather,
The pibroch is wailing a dirge for the slain,
The women are weeping, their lane vigils keeping,
Sair, sair, are the hearts in the clan o' McLean. ”

“ Let's raise more chickens, calves and shoats,
The politicians shun,
Let's grow more beans and wheat and oats,
And help defeat the Hun.
WHEN THE GAME ISN'T FAIR
As we struggle up life's hillside
Where the road is hard and long,
Weak, discouraged, tired, lonely,
And everything gone wrong.
When we see some men refusing
Their allotted load to bear,
While their brother's back is breaking,
Then we know the game's not fair.
When we see some men grow wealthy,
While their brothers die in France,
We rebel at the injustice,
And demand an even chance ”

“ Rhymes For Children
30
HUNTING THE WERE-WOLF
The jungle law is broken;
From forest, field and plain,
The beasts and birds have spoken,
"The traitor must be slain,"
The surly bear comes growling,
From out his lonesome den;
He hears the were-wolf howling,
Athirst for blood of men. ”

“ A scrap of paper, dad."
When sister's chap comes round at night,
And pa seems in a rage,
Ma only smiles; she knows all right,
It's just dad's camoflage.
And when I entertain this beau
While Sis puts on her dress,
Sometimes I get a dime, you know;
That's strategy, I guess.
My dad is getting rather stout,
And hates to mow the lawn;
But when he gets the mower out,
First thing he knows I'm gone;
But when I've trouble with my pa
No matter what it's for,
I make an ally of my ma,
And then I win the war.
32
THE TRENCH THAT FRITZ BUILT
This is the trench that Fritz built. ”

“ Three little slackers in a canoe,
Simpleton rocked the boat, then there were two.
Two little slackers, one was a Hun,
He got imprisoned, then there was one.
One little slacker, war nearly won,
He got conscripted, then there were none.
One little, two little, three little slackers,
Four little, five little, six little slackers,
Seven little, eight little, nine little slackers,
Ten little slacker men.
JINGLES
Jack Sprat can eat no fat,
His wife can eat no lean,
Because upon their platter now
No meat is ever seen. ”

“ I hate dot teufel, Johnnie Bull,
(Der Kaiser says I must)
Mit rage mine heart is filled so full
Sometime I tink I'll bust.
Vot pisness he mit horse and gun,
Dot channel shtream to cross?
Vot matter for de tings ve done?
Der Kaiser is de boss.
Dose English, yaw, I tells you true! ”

“ Dat some tings don't look goot in dis fight,
Den der Kaiser he feel britty plue,
Und like dis vay to me he vill write.
"Mine dear Fritz,—Since Von Tirp has gone oudt,
Dere's no von around here I can trust,
So I vant you to dell me, old scoudt,
Vill it pe de vorld power, or bust?
Ven ve licked de Russ, English und French,
Den de Dago und Portugee came,
Seems de deeper ve dig in de trench
De more fellers get into de game. ”

“ Ve must bluff britty hard,
Or shoost trow down our hand in disgrace.
If like checkers ve blay, don't forget
Dey got more men dan ve haf, you bet!
If ve makes some beeg schore,
Und not man off no more,
Ve may shtop mit a draw, maype yet."
Den der Kaiser say—"Tanks, Mr. Strauss,
On your back dere don't grow any moss;
I'll shoost blay some more pranks
On dose silly old Yanks"
Den he gif me von nice iron cross.
75
FRITZ IN THE HOSPITAL
Ven der Kaiser his var bugles blow,
Und say: "Fritz, to de front you must go,"
Den it vasn't so strange,
I vas glad for de change ”