—I ^ J_|: iJlllllllllllllilllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllli ITEL*S BlllllllilllilllilllllililllllllllllllllP l!li»WII»nill{l!llll«lll»lllllllllll{||||||» ROBERT E I T E L 19 13 r 1— II ji Class _„_JP-SSSJ? ^ Book ^J.-}- CopglitN" LH^ COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. Eitel's Poems By Robert Eitel Copyrighted 1913 Published by NEWS-MESSENGER PRESS Marshall, Minnesota Ti i<^(3 /' ^^■^ ,A33268G CONTENTS: PAGE ON THE PHILIPPINE WAR.. 5 MINNESOTA LAND MAN 9 WOMAN 11 TRIBUTE TO A DRAMATIC READER 15 PLEDGE OF FRIENDSHIP 17 A LIFE IDEAL 18 THE CITY BOARDING HOUSE 20 THE IMPERIALIST 25 TO A PROSPECTIVE BRIDE 27 I NEVER WAS IN LOVE 28 FOR WOMAN'S SUFFRAGE . . 31 A DEMON INTRENCHED 34 THE STRONG AND THE WEAK 37 THE GOOD OLD TIMES 41 MELADY'S PET 45 BOOST THE TOWN 47 IN LIFE'S BATTLES 51 ON THE TITANIC DISASTER 55 EITEVS POEMS ON THE PHILIPPINE WAR. ALAS — what mean those cries of war Which come from far-off lands; Where men and even women fall, Slain by the conqueror's hands? Did we not drive the Spaniards from The east and from the west, To free the suffering people and To give them peace and rest? Did we a holy war declare To break the tyrants' rod, And now the tyrants' victims slay, Ignoring Man and God? What glory can we hope to gain By unjust wars abroad, The weak and ignorant we slay. On their own native sod? Do we forget that there's a God Who justice will demand. Who hears the cries of the oppressed In every clime and land? What has been in ages past To those who would expand, Who distant weaker people sought, And slew them with ruthless hand? What fate befell the Chaldean Kings, The Persian and the Mede, The Grecian conquerors of the world, The Romans filled with greed? EJTEL'S POEMS What doom has Providence in store E^r the Nations of our day, Who ruled by vain Ambition ^s rod, Their weaker brethren slay? What are the armies and the fleets Of powers filled with might, When led by champions of the wrong, Who war against the right? Who seek for glory and renown, And trust in hosts and wars, Who Right and Peace and God despise And worship only Mars? Where will the Briton's warships. Where all his mighty host, When inquisition's made for blood? All, all destroyed and lost. Then let the glorious western land Take heed and thus beware. Lest in the future summing up The Briton's fate she'll share. Now he who says we must spread out And conquer and expand, Becomes a foe to God and Man, A foe to his own land. For who is he who can not see The evil we will find Tn conquering distant strangers' Isles, Xo man in love so blind. Our generous plans, our lofty aims, The Americans' noble pride. Dragged to the depth of Britians' plane. Our eyes in shame we'll hide. EITEUS POEMS And shall our glorious western land, Which ever stood for right, Be led to burn, to shoot and kill, Those distant isles to blight? How will the heathen on those shores To Christ their king be led. When loved ones, father, brother, sons. Are slain with fire and lead? And slain for what? For fighting hard To save their own domain From arrogant and haughty hands. From far, beyond the main. The men who fight like Spartans brave, Their lands and homes to shield. Their lives and fortunes dearly sell On bloody battle fields. The father taken from the child. His child with smile and curl. The husband from his weeping wife. The lover from his girl. And all are slain in coldest blood And ruthlessly cut down. Because they fight for homes and friends^ For lands by right their own. The widows sad and sore bereft, The orphan girls and boys Are found in thousands on those shores With blighted homes and joys. The cries and screams of the bereaved Are heard from rich and poor. And all the blame for this distress Lies here at our own door. EITEL'S POEMS Then let our heads be hung in shame And all our pride be lost When we remember we have caused This shameful holocaust. Then let the haughty quake with fear For their own homes and sod, Because the cries of the oppressed Will reach the ears of God. Oh, may our land so richly blessed. Forever cease to kill. And meet the helpless and the weak With nothing but goodwill. Oh, may it strive to haste the day When strifes and wars shall cease, And be no longer ruled by Mars, But by the Prince of Peace. EITEUS POEMS MINNESOTA LAND MAN. YE MEN who always feel your oats And often fail to pay your notes, If you will come to northern climes, You soon will have some better times. Here in this clime where land is cheap, You soon can gather up a heap, If you are frugal, you will see, That soon among the rich you'll be. Here on this level northern plain, Amid the sunshine and the rain, Here roses bloom and pansies grow And here the farmers prosper so. Around the lake and by the stream, Where waters in the sunlight gleam. There flowers of every color bloom. And songs of birds dispel all gloom. Here grasses grow up to your arms Amid all nature's sweetest charms. Here grows the largest, rankest grain. And here the farmer gets his gain. Should any whisper in your ear And say that corn does not grow here. Just ask them what they know about This thing of which they ever shout. And do not deign to hear such stuff. For all this land both smooth and rough. Produces corn in all its strength, Twelve inches, even more, in length. EITEL'S POEMS Then do not stay where land is high, There you can not afford to buy, For with your crops the very best You can not pay your interest. And if you buy while land is low, 'Twill quickly into money grow, And though it may be rough or flat. Your wife and babies will grow fat. If you are young and have no wife To help you get along in life, Perhaps you have a girl so fair With sparkling eyes and frizzled hair; And if you think you can not roam And leave her all alone at home, Persuade her then to come along To fill your life with joy and song. But if you are yet young and green, If little of the world you've seen, Yet you presume alone to start, You are almost sure to lose your heart: For when you leave your home and Kin You surely will be taken in. For of all girls upon the earth The fairest ones are in the north. If you should see them dressed in white Upon their wheels in the soft twilight, In wonder you would raise your hand And say that this is fairy land. Whate'er your occupation be, A profit here in land you'll see, So if among the rich you'd stand Just buy some Minnesota Land. 10 EITEL'S POEMS WOMAN. (A Different Version) THE woman as God first made her Still stands proud and dignified; Though by every ursine poet She's maligned and much belied. Poet Kipling says the female Is more deadly than the male; True, his logic she will scatter As the leaves in Autumn's gale. He consigns her to the level Of the beasts in Savage Lands; While the God of Abstract Justice, None but Kipling understands. Yes, Her wisdom will prove deadly To ideals such as he Has given in his poems For the World at large to see. In her battles with Injustice, All her darts are true and sure; But to all ennobling efforts She's an Angel, good and pure. In all trials of the species What will Mother — Love outweigh? To defend her own begotten She will strike, and even slay. Should her offspring be endangered By proximity to Vice ; She becomes a deadly foeman To the Demon, in the trice. EITEUS POEMS Then supply her with the weapon, Place the ballot in her hand; And effectively she'll wield it To defend Her Home and Land. While the penal institutions Of the realms within our view With the males are overcrowded, Yet the women are so few; The contentions of the poet Can with Man no more prevail; Since the female of the species Is less vicious than the male. When the Patriots of Calais In their deep despair and gloom Went forth to meet the tyrant, Who in rage decreed their doom; Then the pleadings of Philippa Saved them from Death's cruel sting; For the kindly Queen of Britain Was more noble than the King. When by order of the despot Weinsberg's men were doomed to die, But their women were all pardoned And in mercy told to fly; As each loving wife departed She just shouldered her own male; And took him through the City Gate, And down into the vale. When the conquerors in wonder This heroic sight did see; Even Conrad then relented And revoked his harsh decree 12 EITEVS POEMS But what (ask the Ursine critics), Would she do in case of wars? She would neither be accepted Nor adopted by King Mars. True, yet ever doth she follow In the wake of the affray; There to soothe and nurse the mangled, And their miseries allay: With her kindly ministrations Still relieving pain and woe; And healing wounds inflicted By the missiles of the foe: Or she may be keeping vigils While her friends are fighting hard; Or mayhap writing ballads, Even as some noted Bard. Every act of Loving Kindness And of Justice, she will hail; And in deeds of love and mercy. She will far excel the male. Yes Man knows it; knows moreover, His cheap glory soon will fade; In the councils of the Nations She will leave him in the shade: For to all that's detrimental To the morals of the race; To all drunkenness, and Lewdness, And to all that's Man's disgrace; To all forms of dissipation Which but woes and sorrows bring; Which corrupt, corrode and poison Like the cobra's fatal sting: 13 EITEL'S POEMS To the cup of deadly venoms, To the poison of the bar, To all forms of gross injustice; To the cruelties of War: To the blighting, bestial orgies Which all goodness do retard; To these she is more deadly Than our Friend, the English Bard. 14 EJTEL'S POEMS TRIBUTE TO A DRAMATIC READER. OUT in the fields, the woods and lanes — A few brief years were spent In juvenile diverting joys, With Girlhood's eager bent. But soon among the urban crowd — Her face and form were seen. Where in the school's curriculum. Her interest was keen. The honors of the graduate Were hers by every rule. And then a teacher she became Out in the rural school. But then her intellectual bent To loftier aims did rise; And in her mind she soon devised A higher enterprise. Now Oratory is her forte — In which she does excel — What excellence she may attain — One may not now foretell. But for a time she disappeared Completely from the sight Of many who had loved her well, And in her took delight. Some of her former chums surmised And said, perhaps — alas — It may be she is teaching, with One scholar in the class. 15 EITEL'S POEMS However in her own good time — She who had long been missed Appeared before them on the stage, A full-fledged dramatist. And the dramatic personae — Filled all with high delight — She had so recently been one Among their own elite. Whate'er the fate of prophets be — It has been clearly shown — A prophetess may honors win In her own native town. 16 EITEVS POEMS A PLEDGE OF FRIENDSHIP. WITH the best of kindly wishes Which I entertain for you, Would I give this modest token, And my love goes with it too. Not for its commercial value, Nor for its intrinsic worth; But for love which stands much higher Than the paltry things of Earth. This memorial which I tender — ■ I now beg you to receive, As a pledge of my affection In which surely you believe. And whenever you are dining On your coffee, meat and bread; Me, your friend you may remember When beholding this new spread. And my wish is for your freedom From all hardship, toil and strife; And may fortune give you pleasure In a long and happy life. 17 EITEL^S POEMS A LIFE IDEAL. THE morning light comes bright and clear, How beautiful the day, But scarcely has its brilliance dawned "When night drives it away. How brief the space from dawn till eve How long the dreary night: One glimpse of the most radiant view Then gloom obscures the sight. The fragrance of the flower bed. So pleasant to the taste, How limited in its extent, How wide the desert waste. How fleeting are the days of May So full of sweetest song; The cold and bleak December time So dreary and so long. Our Ship of Romance heaves in sight, Caparisoned and gay; But as we view the lofty mast She sinks out in the bay. How sweet the spring time of our youth. The bright and happy day; But of its joys we scarcely taste When lo, the hairs are gray. Then make the most of all the good, The beautiful and true, While yet they are at your command, A garland made for you. 18 EITEL'S POEMS We think of those who in the past Contrived to make us glad, And then of our ingratitude, How dreary and how sad. Could we but call to those who now Are numbered with the dead, And tell them how we grieve because Of bitter things we said. But they lare far beyond our reach. Our grief they may not save. Though many bitter tears we shed Upon the silent grave. Remember Oh, remember then. Those who are yet with you; It may not be so very long Till they are taken too. No doubt they have their share of griefs Along the thorny road, Though you may do your very best To help them bear the load. A pleasant word, a kindly deed Will you to them endear; Such words and deeds are better far Than flowers upon the bier. And when your days are numbered here On this tererstrial sphere; Oh, may it then be said of you. He never caused a tear. And when you have been laid to rest. May friends who yet remain Say with their hearts brimful of love. You never gave them pain! 19 EITEUS POEMS THE CITY BOARDING HOUSE. WHEN the love of Social Pleasure Leads you to some gay resort, Where the rich in worldly treasure Seek for leisure and for sport; Then remember there are places Where the honest, kind and true, Demonstrate their worthy graces. Though their number may be few. One such place to you we tender, And its name proceed to tell; 'Tis not in the halls of splendor, But at the city's grand hotel. There the lawyer and the teacher In their dignity you'll find; And ' a worthy local preacher ; There you'll cultivate your mind. One whose intellectual powers Are her pardonable pride; In debate she never cowers. And they love her as a bride. Some of her amusing features Are her supercilious airs, She excels her fellow creatures In all knowledge of affairs. After her is one more teacher; Modest, Quiet, ever kind; Few on earth could overreach her In the training of the mind. 20 EITEL'S POEMS Where the billows wild — are sweeping, There the breakers roar and leap; But where waters still — are sleeping; There the stream is clear and deep. When the masher comes to dinner She is always well received; Of all hearts she is a winner; In her you will be deceived. When you see her on her missions In her stylish hobble skirt, You will say on first impressions, She is but a handsome flirt. If perchance she should uncover All the treasures of her mind; Then your error you'll discover. There is scarce a richer find. Another who will all enlighten, Who is still a Miss Forlorn; But all faces turn and brighten, At her appearance in the morn. In her placid — frank demeanor There is nothing of pretense; And to all who yet have seen her, She's a bunch of common sense. Next, the handsome we must mention. She's the finest of the bunch; Everyone is all attention When she comes to get her lunch. In her makeup — of the tragic There is not a single trace; But all recognize the magic Of her handsome — pleasing face. 21 EITEL'S POEMS Then comes the Apothecary, Who is still a lonely stag; None can tell when he will marry, For he does not act the Wag. He is hampered with attractions There is danger — for who knows — They may cause his mind's abstraction When he is mixing up your dose. Then the lawyer always cheery. In debating ever first; His opponent must be wary Or he'll surely get the worst. He knows Law in all its stages, Wins much glory and renown; In the councils of the Sages He will more than hold his own. Then the clothiers, always scatter Favors with the ladies, when With their compliments they flatter: They are champion ladies men. Foreign goods they may be juggling. When not at the show or dance; Should they be confined for smuggling; Some one else may have a chance. Then the modest local preacher Has not been here very long; But he makes a splendid teacher. And a model for the young. Sometimes he will write a letter After he has had his hash; But he always feels much better After he has made a mash. 22 EITEL'S POEMS Last, the writer of these verses In the summer drives a car; For the latter he gets curses "When he runs too fast and far. His identity we're hiding, And his name we may not tell; When out in his auto — riding, He will sometimes take a belle. These are all the clever minded Who are gathered at the board; Further — we are yet reminded — There is still the gay Landlord. These include the best that ever With their presence graced the town; May it navigate however, When to distant fields they've gone. In this place there is true pleasure. Chiefly at the royal feast Which is served in ample measure To greatest and the least. There the viands you may sample, Which are served in plenteous store; If your portion is not ample You may freely call for more. There are turkey, chickens, fishes; And the desserts all galore Follow all the other dishes Which have always come before. There are sauces, spices — nut-meg8| And the dumplings in the stew; Tubers, hashes, noodles, hen-eggs. Though the latter are so few. 23 EITEL'S POEMS Now we humbly ask forgiveness If an error we have made In relating all this business; Do not raise a fusilade. Yet we try to do our duty, In a word to tell it all; When you look for grace and beauty, Oro to this new dining hall. 24 EITEUS POEMS THE IMPERIALIST. THE Imperialist with zeal and zest, Within the City did his best; He spoke of campaigns in the East: How there in blood we all should feast The Filipinoes all said he Are foes to us on land and sea; How they were foes he could not tell, With all his bluster, froth and swell. His hearers he could not convince. Their disapproval made him wince, He hustled quickly to the door And swore he'd talk to them no more. He calls them traitors now and sighs, Because they would not heed his lies Death for them all he thinks too good, Because for righteousness they stood. He calls them traitors one and all Who do not hail our country's fall; Its fall from patriotic creeds, To Spanish lore and Turkish deeds. Had he the power he'd surely see That they would all hang on a tree, Then they would sail had he the helm To Pluto's dark and gloomy realm. You poor Imperialist don't you know You are doing wrong in talking so; We are killing those who did no wrong; They are simply weak while we are strong. 25 EITEUS POEMS The Filipino ^s sole offense Is love so strong and so intense, For his own home and native lands, For them he'll die by tyrants hands. Our only foes both near and far, Now prostitute our ships of war; By tearing freedom's holy bands, Disgrace our flag in eastern lands. Those are our country's deadly foes. Who brought about these shameful woes; No Patriot can meekly bow. And sanction this atrocious row. May he yet learn in this his plight, That wrong is wrong and never right. Though perpetrated by the hand Of worthless rulers of our land. May he yet learn to shun such wars, Though he may be a son of Mars; May God who rules from Pole to Pole Have mercy on his foolish Soul. 26 EITEL*S POEMS TO A PROSPECTIVE BRIDE. A TOKEN of friendship to you would I bring, And I hope that in love to you I may cling ; 'Tis not for its paltry and intrinsic worth — The love that doth prompt me is higher than Earth. How sweet the remembrance of days that are past; We sorrow to think they have circled so fast: Such pleasures and joys in each other we found — In friendship and love, may we ever be bound. This memorial of love, I hope and believe — With reciprocal love, you will kindly receive : To pledge my true friendship — this token I give; May our mutual regard, continue to live. May our love and regard remain just the same. Nor be rudely changed with the change of your name: Though your altered condition may prove a great boon, Don't forget me when feasting with this silver spoon. 27 EITEUS POEMS I NEVER WAS IN LOVE. WHEN first I saw her on the street I was attracted by Her perfect form, her graceful gait, And by her lustrous eye: But I did not imagine then 8he could be aught to me; And why she should impress me so Was more than I could see. T was not young, I was not old, But just in middle life; And I had seen much of the world And of its toil and strife. T knew that I had passed the stage When Man should think of love; Such sentiments, such silly cant, T felt myself above. But soon we met, and soon became The best of earthly friends; And many think they know just how Such friendship always ends. Now to be frank, I must confess I felt a happy thrill While with her walking through the fields, And o'er the wooded hill. And when in far-off lands I roamed And far out on the sea, Where Fun and Frolic reigned supreme And all was mirth and glee; 28 EITEUS POEMS I knew that I was free from Care, From Trouble and from Pain; Yet I was conscious of a void Which I could not explain. r soon concluded I had seen Enough of foreign lands; And quickly took a passage back With other tourist bands. T walked and talked, I took my drives And on the lake did row With her who I had strangely found Could thus impress me so: But while I knew a rapturous joy Had come into my life; T never for a moment thought Of making her my wife: For while I spoke of Nature's charms, And of the stars above; Of birds, of bees, of flowers and trees, T never mentioned love. My admiration knew no bounds, All beauty I adore ; But then of course it only was True Friendship, nothing more. And when again in point of space I found her far away; My letters quickly followed her, 1 wrote without delay: And when her welcome missives came They seemed just like a dream; The words, the sentence and the lines Filled me with joy supreme. 29 EITEL'S POEMS And often in the twilight still A message I would write; For nothing else that I could do Would give me such delight. I told her how to all the world Herself I did prefer; And that of all the very best None was too good for her: How I admired and adored. And how she was above The very best that Earth could give; But never mentioned Love. And when at last a missive came Which told me she had wed; It seemed that I had lost the world And wished that I was dead. The pleasures of the urban life Now palled upon my taste; The beauties of the rural scene Were but a desert waste. And while the grass was just as green, The flowers all in bloom; The songs of birds as ever, sweet, For me 'twas naught but gloom. And oh the dull — the vapid Jife Of which there seemed no end; But why I should be feeling so, T could not comprehend. In vain I daily fought and strove My burden to remove; And yet withal I still protest, T never was in love. 30 EITEL'S POEMS FOR WOMAN'S SUFFRAGE. THE Patriot Fathers — so noble and grand — Devised the decrees which prevail in our land: With deep veneration we honor them all — Who heeded so promptly their own country's call. Had they been endowed with a vision more broad, And seen all the blessings — provided of God. For the glorious country which they called their own, They had been brighter Jewels in this Na- tion's crown. If they to the women the franchise had given ! And recognized it as a boon — come from Heaven, What a blessing to this — her own native land The Woman had proved if but with her own hand. She the ballot had voted which wrongs over- throw — Had voted for years — now a hundred or so — She then would have saved us those rivers of blood — For war and for slaughter — she would not have stood. How might all the carnage — the slaughter and blood. Which drenched our fair land like a crimson stained flood — Been saved if but Woman liad come to her own, 31 EITEL'S POEMS And to the male rulers — a lesson had shown. Had seats in the Senate and President's chair, Been filled at that time by the noble and fair — By women — both wiser and nobler than Man — Like Frances E. Willard and Patriot Clan: Had Women but governed the councils of State, Where the Solons were crazed with sectional hate; She would have prevented with patriot hand — That great civil war — woe and curse of our land. To save this fair land from that dolorous fate — The ballot to Women — is given too late At this some will jeer with Profanity's jest, But let them just look at the glorious West — Seattle — the beautiful town on the sound — By Vice and Corruption for years had been bound : When some for a better condition did ask — The men said it is an impossible task; But when to the women the weapon they gave, Corruption was hurried away to the grave: The men were too timid and said, there's no use, We simply must bear it and stand the abuse. 'Twas then that the women arose in their might — And the vicious soon found — they knew how to fight: While the men with bitter contentions would rave, The votes of the women — the city did save. 32 EITEUS POEMS Then give her the ballot — don't dally so long— The foolish contentions — why further pro- long? Tf we remain laggards, we'll presently find — The comic Celestial will leave iis behind. While Chinese the banner of freedom nnfurl — Shall we still continue — a trogladyte churl? The ballots of women would soon sound the knell, Of all the whiteslavers — the demons of hell. In fighting for suffrage — we never should pause, Until we have won in the glorious cause: And who is not proud while the war we still wage, And deem it a blessing to live in this age. When battles are fought for Equality's boon And suffrage for women can not come too soon. But if for a better condition we wait, To help in the cause, we will soon be too late. Then enter the field — work with all of your heart. If in the good conflict you would have had a part ; For if Ave stand looking contentedly on — The need of our help will forever be gone. Let all have a part in the glorious fight. Which is noAv going on for Justice and Right Then we may rejoice when our race has been run Because in our day the good battle was won. 33 EITEL'S POEMS A DEMON INTRENCHED. A DEMON we have intrenched in our land, Whose fangs reach from shore unto shore, Who blights and destroys with merciless hand Even now as ever of yore. He heeds not the good, he heeds not the bad, Is deadly to friend and to foe; To old and to young, to mirthful and sad Is naught but the essence of woe. He stabs in the dark, he kills in the light; At midnight as well as by day: With bloodthirsty hate and venomous bite All goodness and virtue doth slay. There is no escape for any who thread The blighted confines of his realm; The poisonous sting of his cobra-like head Doth the victims quickly o'erwhelm. All ages of time, all regions of space Have felt his grim death-dealing sting; The slave and the serf he'll ever disgrace As well as the Priest and the King. He captures the Prince, the Queen and the King, The President — Congress and all; If to them a share of the booty he'll bring — Before him they abjectly fall. 34 EITEL'S POEMS The State is unable this monster to rout, The people compelled to endure The wormwood — the gall of his poisonous snout While the viper is safe and secure. When he is expelled because of the stench Provoked by his gluttonous maw, We are presently told by the Judge on the Bench, He is under the wing of the law. The law-maker may not the demon expel Prom County, from Town or from State, While Men with the boys are consumed by this hell And all are resigned to their fate. The poison of rabies, the rattlesnake bite Are virtues compared with this sin. Yet the State with all its powers and might May not say, you shall not come in. Rouse ye then Christians (if Christians in- deed,) The vipor proceed to destroy. Your hearts for the woes of your country should bleed While curses unchecked thus annoy. Destroy the vile cant — the lecherous lore Which curses like these will condone, 'Tho Solons and Sages may ever implore You to cease, and let it alone. His slave and his pal may often appear Upon the political stump, But do not then deign to give him your ear; Tgnor the contemptible chump, Rouse up and be free, the statutes repeal. Revoke constitution and all; 35 EITEL'S POEMS The Solons dethrone who made the vile deal, Moreover, the Judges recall. But Peace is your cry which can not prevail With agents of Death at the helm; Then banish it all, wholesale and retail. Consign it to Pluto's dark realm. Let Peace and Goodwill be ever your theme, Till Nations forever become The Kingdoms of Christ with Virtue supreme Instead of the Demon of Rum. 36 EITEL'S POEMS THE STRONG AND THE WEAK. A MAN of honor, bold and true, An altercation will eschew; If strive he must, its for the right, And then with one of equal might. A man of honor gives no blow To any but a stronger foe; A weaker man he will not strike, Though he may view him with dislike. A bully bawls about his might, And always says he wants to fight; This coward goes to any length To fight a man of smaller strength; And then in triumph he will bellow Because he struck a smaller fellow; But when he meets a stronger foe. He knows he can not lay him low: Though on his rights he may infringe, Like any coward he will cringe, And then accept most any fate For which he may negotiate. A pugilist in any clime Is but a coward everytime; He's always ready for a fight. But just with one of lesser might. So with the nations that are great, They always tremble for their fate When confronted by a foe — They know they cannot overthrow. 37 EITEL'S POEMS For Peace the greater Nations bawl; Amusing 'tis to one and all; To go to war is only wrong In case they know their foes are strong. To strike the strong is heinous Sin, But 'tis not wrong to strike the Finn; Or if the neighbor be no more Than Filipino or a Boer; Then, 'tis all right to strike the lout, And take his land and drive him out; Negotiations would be Sin With Filipino, Boer or Finn. The mighty Bear may eat the Rat, He's nothing but a Persian brat — The only remnant in this age Of all King Cyrus' heritage: 'Tis all that's left and at his hand Of Xerxes and Darius' land. If like the Bear the Rat were great. He then would meet a happier fate. The Muscovite Avould then forbear. His own digestion he would spare; He is concerned about his health As well as looking after wealth. The mighty Lion and the Bear Will simply at each other glare; But neither of them wants a war, For each one fears a deadly scar. Would Briton fight with Uncle Sam? Xo, never; him he could not slam With Uncle he would shun a round, His love for peace is so profound; 38 EITEL'S POEMS But then it is a pleasant bout The Persian or Hindu to rout; Or rule the Boer with royal Hand, And Fellaheen in Pharoah's land. With them the victory he may win, To murder such is not a sin; That bloody carnage is all wrong. Is true when dealing with the strong; A fool will say in every clime To kill the weak is but a crime; The Wise will say, of course 'tis right To slay him since I have the might. Why ask us then to sign a pact? They are not honest in the act: Of Uncle they would make a fool — To help promote their selfish rule. The Lion does not want a jar With Keiser or with great White Czar; And Gaul no longer has a fear Of Teutan out in Agadir. Peace is the cry of all the great: They say 'tis bloody strife they hate: Their love for Peace is but a sham. Their foe they simply dare not slam; For one and all would hail a fight If 'twere not for the others might. A man of strength they must not squeeze; But just a tiny neighbor seize. Who dares to stay proud Albions hand, Or rend Columbia's tiny land? The former would be bloody crime. The latter — statesmanship — sublime. 39 EITEL'S POEMS Tis crime to lay a neighbor low, But 'twas not so, as all may know, In dealing with Filipino. The cry for treaties come from those Who want our help to crush their foes, When nations prove by noble act Their love for peace to be a fact — There'll be no need of any pact, 'Tis only those who want our help Who always for a treaty yelp. But with the weak they seek a strife And say, your country or your life. True peace will come in that good day. When to the weak the strong will say. Your rights we will protect and shield, Instead of death unless you yield. 40 EITEL'S POEMS THE GOOD OLD TIMES. OH, FOR the good old times of yore, Which now are gone f orevermore ; Which the forgotten past records; When wives were slaves and men were Lords; When men lived daily at their ease. While wives hoed corn and picked the peas; When women cut and lugged the logs, And husked the corn and fed the hogs. When Grandma spun from morn till night; Such times would now be my delight; She picked the fruit, the berries ripe, While Grandpa smoked his corn-cob pipe. She delved and toiled in rain and Sun, From dawn till eve was on the run; Her eggs brought in a handsome sum, Which Grandpa always spent for rum. About her clothes she had no say. For men were rulers in that day; And when she asked for shoes he cursed, And said he first must quench his thirst; She had no bonnet and no coat, And more than that, she could not vote. Oh, those were blessed days of yore. But they are gone for evermore. My dad was honest, brave and true. And all there was to know he knew; Of new inventions he was told. Said he, there is nothing like the old. 41 EITEL'S POEMS He never shaved or trimmed his hair, The suffragists he could not bear, Said he, whate'er my lot in life, I'll never have a voting wife. He sent me off to mill one day. Without a wagon or a sleigh; The wheat he put into a sack, And threw it o'er the horse's back; The grain my dad did not divide, But hung a stone upon one side; And then he helped me scramble on. And in a moment I was gone. Tn traveling o'er the rugged road, I found the stone a useless load; I stopped, removed it from the sack, Again sprang on the horse's back; The wheat of course I did divide. And hung one half on either side; And trudging on beyond the hill, I safely brought the grain to mill. And soon the grist I brought was ground, Then off I started, homeward bound; How glad thought I my dad will be. When my improvement he will see; Arriving home my Pa came out, And took the sack and looked about. Where is the stone? exclaimed my dad. That stone, said I, was but a fad: I took it out upon the road. Because it was a useless load: My son, exclaimed my irate Sire, His eyes emitting gleams of fire, 42 EITEL'S POEMS These many years to mill I've gone, But never once without that stone; No matter what you think or say, There is no way like the good old way. And when again you go to mill, You take that stone, and mind you Bill, If you should fail to bring it back. Your innovating head I'll whack: And don't be meddling with the grist, You are like a woman suffragist. I'm married now, and I have found. My father's words were good and sound; There is no way like the good old way, No matter what reformers say: My father knew it all you see, And I am just as smart as he. My wife refuses to be spurned. She keeps the money she has earned; And never can I go to town, But she must have a hat or gown; And when I want to smoke or chew. She just becomes a perfect shrew; And when I drink a little grog, I am treated w^orse than any dog. I dare not gamble on the turf, And leave my wife at home a serf; She will not hoe or dig, or plow. Nor feed the horse or milk the cow; My errands she will never run, Nor hoe tobacco in the Sun, She neither fears my word nor fist, She is a horrid suffragist. 43 EITEL'S POEMS I simply can not boss my wife. And must lament this fact in life; My liquor and tobacco gone, Her watch and chain I dare not pawn: She will have dresses, shoes and coat, And worse than all, is bound to vote. Oh, for the blissful days of yore. For women will be slaves no more: I may not drink or spree or brawl, The suffragists have spoiled it all. 44 EITEVS POEMS MELADY'S PET. WHAT man with true manly feelings Is not moved by Woman's grace, Whether beautiful and handsome Or of unattractive face? Yet while her wit may entrance him, And her beauty may befog; She repels a man of honor When she hugs a poodle dog. Though Man be lost in gallantry, And to beauty be a slave; To save her he may give his life. And accept a watery grave; In courtesy to her he'll yield, And to her he will defer; But will only be disgusted When he sees her hug a cur. Even though she be accomplished. In all music, song and art. And in all the valued graces In which women have a part; Though she sing the song of seraphs, Though she play the harp and flute; Yet a man of sense will shun her When he sees her hug a brute. She may think she is some pumpkin, And a belle among her sex; She may dress up like a fairy. And pay for it with her checks; 45 EITEL'S POEMS She may think she is a lady, And may deem herself way up; But with chumps she's on the a level When she hugs a filthy pup. Every man in his right senses Will despise a silly flirt, Though she may be gay and witty. And in all be cute and pert; A dowdy he does not fancy. And a slouch he would not wed; But all would be preferred to her Who will hug a quadruped. Man's taste may not be delicate; He may not be hard to please, And all that smacks of decency. He may tolerate Avith ease, He may tolerate a spider, And a rattlesnake or frog, But he can not stand a woman Who will hug a wet-nosed dog. 46 EITEL'S POEMS BOOST THE TOWN. To the Commercial Club. A TOWN needs men of enterprise, It can not prosper otherwise; And it has been the hardest rub To get a good commerical club. In a decade this is the fourth Which in this town has had its birth Three of them rose and later fell, But what the cause no one can tell. For one however we attest — It was a lack of interest; Success we say to one and all Who now anew will roll the ball. Get busy then and go to work. Nor let indiiference in you lurk; If all will help to bear the loads, We soon may have some better roads. Take hold and help to boost the town For others good as for your own; Unless we stir and to it fall. Our neighbors will oustrip us all. To get new depots, there is need To overcome the railroad's greed; Unless we get a new hotel. All strangers we will soon repel. Yes, business men yourselves bestir. And with your fellowmen confer; Unless you all hand out your cash The town will surely go to smash. 47 EITEL'S POEMS But here we have our ups and downs The same as in all other towns; With ups we're always sure to meet Upon that bridge on Second Street. How all our enterprises loom — The City must be on a boom; Just look at that new City Hall — The jail, the offices and all: The spread of the new City Plant — The heat from which just makes us pant; The streets so wide, the sidewalks too, And bridges, all as good as new. Look at the park where lovers hide — It is the City's greatest pride — And then the scales are coming yet; We hope the town is out of debt. Boost every worthy enterprise. No matter what may be its size; Should you get hurt then do not yelp, Your harm may be the City's help. Encourage all commercial men Tn grocery and druggists den. In shoe store and dry-goods Bazaar — Nor slight the scion of the bar. The doctors too who make the call — In due time they will kill you all; The implement and hardAvare man — Be sure and help them all you can. And many more are in the throng, To name them all would take too long; But don't forget the greatest boon Which is the lager beer saloon, 48 EITEL'S POEMS The greatest problem, we must own Is uow to keep them in the town: Their customers and hangers on In course of time will all be gone. They thrive and live on men who drink, But then we must sit up and think — How will the dealers get their bread? The drinking men will soon be dead. And when there is no drinking lout, The liquor men will all move out; The thought must fill us all with dread — ■ The City too will then be dead. The thought of course, will all perplex, Because the problem is complex — Without a drinking man in town. The dealers soon would all shut down. Without the blessings which they give, The City can not grow and live — Without a man to drink a glass, The streets would soon grow up to grass. Perhaps the problem we may solve Which on us all may soon devolve — The younger men and all the boys Who now indulge in other joys. May soon be taught the toper's ways, Like those before in other days; Who too were boys both pure and brave Yet, they may fill a drunkard's grave. Don't let the boys become true men, But take them to the brewers den — And soon the liquor they will crave, And thus the City you may save, 49 EITEL'S POEMS Now business men should organize And help the town to grow in size; And get that road across the state — It may soon prove to be too late. Our neighbors all are with a vim Just fighting to be in the swim; Then all should heed Tradition's term — The early bird will get the worm. 50 EITEL'S POEMS IN LIFE'S BATTLES. IN LIFE'S battles for distinction— To Ambition some will yield, Who will strive for the extinction Of all rivals in the field. But the end is disappointment, For their schemes are all unfair. But to those comes true contentment Who all good with others share. Let the path of life be royal — Every day resolve anew To be faithful — firmly loyal To the good — the pure and true. Though the path be rough and dreary, And the best of friends should fail. And reverses make us weary — Evil never shall prevail. On the field of bloody carnage — Strewed with dying and the dead: Patriots with Spartan courage Oft have bravely fought and bled. Yes upon the field so gory — Firm — unfiinchingly have stood Warrior heroes — winning glory. Who for Country gave their blood. Many such in all the ages Have become replete with fame; And all history on its pages Has immortalized their name. 51 EITEL'S POEMS Yet none but an ignoramus Calls a hero truly great, Whose ambition made him famous 'I'hrough another's cruel fate. Like the great Nebuchadnezzar, Who all nations did efface; And his offspring, weak Belshazzar, Who the Kingdom did disgrace. Or the youthful Alexander, Who to Greece the honor gave — As the greatest in War's grandeur, And then filled a drunkard's grave. In the Persians broad dominions — With the sword — he slaughtered all; E'en like Ceasar with his minions Over in Transalpine Gaul. Timourlane — the greatest scandal Who on Earth has ever trod; And Attila — Hun and Vandal, Who was called the scourge of God. Charlemagne — the superstitious Came upon the field of fame, In the ages — dark and vicious, But a Christian he became. To the sacred he diverted, And with zeal confessed the Lord, But his foes he all converted With the spear and with the sword. Many others of the noted May be placed upon the list, Who by mankind have been voted- Great among militarists. 52 EITEUS POEMS One who here commands attention — Charles the fifth — of Spanish birth; And Napoleon merits mention, Who would conquer all the earth. These the agents of Destruction For their own cheap glory fought; But their genius lacked construction, And their empires came to naught. Curses all — instead of blessings To their lands and to their race; Ever with the sw^ord oppressing. And of justice — not a trace. There are better ways to greatness, Though the glory may be small, 'Tis along the paths of kindness, And in doing good to all. Yes, each boy and girl may merit Greater praise and honor than Any warrior, hero — bandit — Followed by his Vandal clan. Only stand for those ideals Which to higher planes will guide, And resisting all ordeals Which from evil may betide. Yes, be Stars of peace and kindness; And through ages you will shine — Still dispelling selfish blindness By your light — serene — benign. Well may all such be the envy Of the scourge — who in the past Blighted all wdth bloody convoy. Like the simoon's withering blast. 53 EITEL'S POEMS Who won all his honors chiefly Through his fellowman's despair; And whose ghastly light shone briefly, Like the lurid meteor's glare. Then be truly patriotic And all wrong antagonize; Let the evil be chaotic — Only Virtue patronize. And your goodness and your virtue, Surely will be seen by some Who will emulate and bless you, Tn the ages yet to come. 54 EITEL^S POEMS ON THE TITANIC DISASTER. THE gay, happy tourists with spirits so light, Were entranced with the thought of many a glad sight Which would greet them when back to their own they would come, And meet the dear friends who were waiting at home To hear from the lands to which they had been, And of all the wonderful things they had seen In their travels abroad, in the stranger ^s do- main — In the lands of the east — across the great main. On the deck of the palace there gathered the gay. With music and song, both by night and by day; With hearts light and happy — for pleasure they sought. But of danger and death there was never a thought. In the stillness of mid-night — asleep in the berth — They felt safe and secure after hours of mirth : Not a heart among all, that harbored a fear, For none of them dreamed that disaster was near. But suddenly then in the darkness and gloom, Came the crashing of timbers which sounded their doom. 55 EITEL'S POEMS With momentum — terrific, and all in a trice — The vessel encountered the mountain of ice: The force opened up Leviathan's great jaw, And the waves of the deep filled the sea- monster's maw. The wealth}^ of earth proved their courage was strong, As well as the crew and the emigrant throng. They all struggled with might — the women to save — The world has no record of heroes more brave. When the sea-monster sailed from Albion's shore, No one would have dreamed they would see her no more: Tn defiance she plowed through trough and through crest, So gallantly bound for the land of the West, The monster Titanic rolled fearlessly forth Until she encountered the floe from the north; When the palace afloat — of magnifiicent worth, Was crushed in a moment and lost to the earth ; Our nerves are all thrilled and emotions will rise As our hearts and our eyes, we lift to the skies. And our faltering voices all choking we raise, While in great admiration and wonder we praise The coolness and courage of the doomed ves- sel's crew. When all were aware that the boats were too few. 56 EITEL'S POEMS That the wealthy are selfish and inhuman too, Has clearly been shown to be not always true. The brilliant, proud Astors all hoarded the gold, And gathered up wealth like Creosus of old: In the hoarding of wealth consisted their fame, But John Jacob, the drowned, has established a name Which well may be envied by the wealthy and great — To save some poor woman he accepted his fate With a millionaire banker, the cook and the tar; With a genius in letters, and a colonel in war. Oh boast not ye heroes on Marathon's field, Who fought for 3'our land and to foes would not yield : Like heroes ye Helenes by thousands were slain, And wither pillars were honored on Attica's plain. Nor yet ye brave Spartans at Thermopolae 's pass, For Columbia's heroes are still in your class. And with them the brave of proud Albion stand — No race could produce a more heroic band. Ye heroes of Attica, Sparta and Thrace — Your counterparts live in the proud Saxon race : 57 EITEUS POEMS Among the world's bravest — none greater could be — To rescue the helpless — they sank in the sea. With the noblest they chose a deep watery grave, Near two thousand fathoms beneath the cold wave. Neither glorious wealth nor Poverty's ban, But all noble attributes will make a true man: The hero with millions stood up in his pride, While stewards and stokers bravely stood by his side ; They sacrificed all — even life in the wreck, While the women and children, they helped from the deck. While the hearts of bereaved ones with grief may be rung — The praise of their lost ones will ever be sung. Some sought on the mountain of ice to ma- roon, But were ruthlessly slain by the mighty Nep- tune. Unmoved by the billows, they peacefully sleep. In the realm of the mermaids, far down in fHe deep. The wave of the sea above noblemen rolls. All praise to their memory and peace to their souls. 58 MAR 6 1913 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS ■HI 015 937 069