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A poem by Owen Seaman

Swords And Ploughshares

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Title:     Swords And Ploughshares
Author: Owen Seaman [More Titles by Seaman]


PART I. PRESTO FURIOSO.


Spontaneous Us!
O my Camarados! I have no delicatesse as a diplomat, but I go blind
on Libertad!
Give me the flap-flap of the soaring Eagle's pinions!
Give me the tail of the British lion tied in a knot inextricable,
not to be solved anyhow!
Give me a standing army (I say 'give me,' because just at present we
want one badly, armies being often useful in time of war).

I see our superb fleet (I take it that we are to have a superb fleet
built almost immediately);
I observe the crews prospectively; they are constituted of various
nationalities, not necessarily American;
I see them sling the slug and chew the plug;
I hear the drum begin to hum;

Both the above rhymes are purely accidental and contrary to my principles.
We shall wipe the floor of the mill-pond with the scalps of
able-bodied British tars!
I see Professor Edison about to arrange for us a torpedo-hose on
wheels, likewise an infernal electro-semaphore;
I see Henry Irving dead-sick and declining to play Corporal Brewster;
Cornell, I yell! I yell Cornell!

I note the Manhattan boss leaving his dry-goods store and investing
in a small Gatling-gun and a ten-cent banner;
I further note the Identity evolved out of forty-four spacious and
thoughtful States;
I note Canada as shortly to be merged in that Identity; similarly
Van Diemen's Land, Gibraltar and Stratford-on-Avon;
Briefly, I see Creation whipped!

O ye Colonels! I am with you (I too am a Colonel and on the
pension-list);
I drink to the lot of you; to Colonels Cleveland, Hitt, Vanderbilt,
Chauncey M. Depew, O'Donovan Rossa and the late Colonel
Monroe;
I drink an egg-flip, a morning-caress, an eye-opener, a maiden-bosom,
a vermuth-cocktail, three sherry-cobblers and a gin-sling!
Good old Eagle!


PART II. INTERMEZZO DOLOROSO.

[Allowing time for the fall of American securities to the extent of
some odd hundred millions sterling; also for the Day of Rest.]


PART III. ANDANTE AMABILE.

Who breathed a word of war?
Why, surely we are men and Plymouth brothers!
Pray, what in thunder should we cut each other's
Carotids for?

Merciful powers forefend!
For we by gold-edged bonds are bound alway,
Besides a lot of things that never pay
A dividend!

Christmas! we cry thee Ave!
At such a time, when hearts with love are filled,
It seems inopportune for us to build
The needful navy.

In fact in many a church
Uprise the prayer and supplicating psalm
That Heaven would keep our spreading Eagle calm
Upon his perch.

Goodwill and peace and plenty!
Our leading congregations here agree
To vote for this arrangement, nemine
Contradicente
.

Greatly be they extolléd
Who occupied the tabernacle-chair
And put it to the meeting then and there
And passed it solid!

That print has also played
A useful part that sent an invitation
To Redmond to relieve the situation
(Answer prepaid).

Say, Sirs, and shall we sever?
And mar the fair exchange of fatted steers,
Chicago pig, and eligible peers?
No! never, never!

Shall gore be made to flow?
Like kindred Sohrabs shall we knock our Rustums,
And blast our beautiful McKinley customs?
Lord love us! no!

Then, burst the sundering bar!
Our punctured pockets yearn across the ocean;
Till now we never had the faintest notion
How dear you are!

O love of other years!
Wall Street, aweary for her broken bliss,
Waits like a loving crocodile to kiss
Again with tears!




[The end]
Owen Seaman's poem: Swords And Ploughshares

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