The Lone Eagle's Litany
The Lone Eagle's Litany was written by Texas poet Oliver Allstorm in praise of Charles Lindbergh's anti-interventionist efforts to keep the US out of World War II. Lindbergh responded to Allstorm in a letter and said "it exactly mirrored his sentiments about the present situation."[1]
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George Washington said
“Beware unto Dread
All foreign snares,”
And he was quite right,
We’ll hold to our might
By minding our own affairs.
We’ll stay on this side
Of the rolling tide
Forever and still be true
To the snow-white stars and the red-white bars
Of our flag Red White and Blue!
“Over there” there’s mud and shedding of blood
And tongues confusing and strange.
So why lend a hand to an alien land
Whose streams we can never change.
In France they’ll be French and stick to a trench
As long as their banner flies,
They’ll guard their Moselle with bullet and shell
Til the last brave poilu dies.
The Hun will be Hun while the blazing sun
Looks down from an ailing sky
And fathers and sons will fight with their guns
Til the River Rhine goes dry.
And England shall ring with “Long Live the King!”
While Tommy knows how to shout
She’ll blast off her foes with death-telling blows
Til the sunlight flickers out.
They shout with their lungs in various tongues
And each strange lingo is grand
But to us it’s all Greek for most of them speak
In ways we can not understand.
They scream it with lead and gas that is spread
And cannon ball grim and cold,
With bullets and bombs, and bugles and drums
And flags with tassels of gold.
“Away with this shindy!” cries Colonel Lindy
“We’ll never be Allied tools,
Nor again parade in a foreign brigade
Like saps in a squad of fools.
We’ll not join the kill in the murder mill
Of plunder, rape and despair,
Nor sink in the snag and stain out dear Flag
With the blood of serfs over there.
We’ll not sound the knell of our Liberty Bell
Nor raze Independence Hall
Nor nail Betsy Ross to a foreign cross.
God gave us our land, we held His hand
And promised Him never to fail
To send up a cheer for Paul Revere
Or a tear to Nathan Hale!”
There’s the Soviet bear in his Russian lair,
And China is still in her sleep,
And this land and that are all sitting pat
On top of an arsenal’s heap.
But Lindy’s Pa saw it all from afar,
Said, “Son, don’t take up a gun,
Don’t salvage the tea from an angry sea
Where Old Boston sent it down.
Europe may strut thro its bloody rut
And scheme with her Babel snares
But we’ll stay at home this side of the foam
See also
Notes
- ↑ Lindbergy: A Biography, by Leonard Mosley, page 266
