MUSIC; AND THE SAVAGE BREAST by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS

I'D read the Kaiser's note,
A message representative;
I went to bed unquieted
And fuming and fermentative.
Of submarine and boat,
Of wars in endless number
I dreamed until, while far from ill,
I simply could not slumber.

Of wars, I say, I dreamed,
Of contests gladiatorial.
When through the gray shone out the day—
The Day they call Memorial.
And still I lay and schemed,
Evolving plans piratic
A hundred million men to kill
In diction diplomatic.

"Alas!" I thought, "the end
Is come of all humanity!
The weeping earth abandons mirth
For frenzy and insanity.
Ah, whither does it tend? ..."
—And then, in martial manner,
A German and adjacent band
Played "The Star Spangled Banner."

O little German band,
Though partisan my attitude,
When all seemed vile you made me smile—
Accept my grinning gratitude.
You made me understand,
Where failed a thousand sermons,
That all has not yet gone to pot.
.... I thank you, band of Germans.

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