Famous Huns Poems by Famous Poets

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A Song Of Winter Weather

 It isn't the foe that we fear;
 It isn't the bullets that whine;
It isn't the business career
 Of a shell, or the bust of a mine;
It isn't the snipers who seek
 To nip our young hopes in the bud:
No, it isn't the guns,
And it isn't the Huns --
 It's the MUD,
 MUD,
 MUD.

It isn't the melee we mind.
That often...Read more of this...

Stand Fast!

 Stand fast, Great Britain! 
Together England, Scotland, Ireland stand 
One in the faith that makes a mighty land,
True to the bond you gave and will not break
And fearless in the fight for conscience' sake! 
Against the Giant Robber clad in steel, 
With blood of trampled Belgium on his heel, 
Striding through France to strike you down at last,
Britain, stand...Read more of this...

Kelly Of The Legion

 Now Kelly was no fighter;
He loved his pipe and glass;
An easygoing blighter,
Who lived in Montparnasse.
But 'mid the tavern tattle
He heard some guinney say:
"When France goes forth to battle,
The Legion leads the way.

 "The scourings of creation,
 Of every sin and station,
 The men who've known damnation,
 Are picked to lead the way."

Well, Kelly joined the Legion;
They marched him day...Read more of this...

The Fathers

 Snug at the club two fathers sat, 
Gross, goggle-eyed, and full of chat. 
One of them said: ‘My eldest lad 
Writes cheery letters from Bagdad. 
But Arthur’s getting all the fun
At Arras with his nine-inch gun.’ 

‘Yes,’ wheezed the other, ‘that’s the luck! 
My boy’s quite broken-hearted, stuck 
In England training all this year. 
Still, if there’s truth in...Read more of this...

May 24 1980

I have braved for want of wild beasts steel cages 
carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters 
lived by the sea flashed aces in an oasis 
dined with the-devil-knows-whom in tails on truffles.
From the height of a glacier I beheld half a world the earthly
width. Twice have drowned thrice let knives rake my nitty-gritty.
Quit the country the bore...Read more of this...

Priscilla

 Jerry MacMullen, the millionaire,
Driving a red-meat bus out there --
How did he win his Croix de Guerre?
Bless you, that's all old stuff:
Beast of a night on the Verdun road,
Jerry stuck with a woeful load,
Stalled in the mud where the red lights glowed,
Prospect devilish tough.

"Little Priscilla" he called his car,
Best of our battered bunch by far,
Branded with many a bullet...Read more of this...

May 24 1980

 I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages,
carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters,
lived by the sea, flashed aces in an oasis,
dined with the-devil-knows-whom, in tails, on truffles.
From the height of a glacier I beheld half a world, the earthly width. Twice have drowned, thrice let knives rake my nitty-gritty.
Quit the country the bore and...Read more of this...

Protus

 Among these latter busts we count by scores,
Half-emperors and quarter-emperors,
Each with his bay-leaf fillet, loose-thonged vest,
Loricand low-browed Gorgon on the breast,---
One loves a baby face, with violets there,
Violets instead of laurel in the hair,
As those were all the little locks could bear.

Now read here. ``Protus ends a period
``Of empery beginning with a god;
``Born in the porphyry chamber at Byzant,
``Queens...Read more of this...

Julie Claire

 Oh Julie Claire was very fair,
Yet generous as well,
And many a lad of metal had
A saucy tale to tell
Of sultry squeeze beneath the trees
Or hugging in the hay . . .
Of love her share had Julie Claire
When life was lush and gay.

And then the village wealth to pillage
Came the Teuton horde;
The haughty Huns with mighty guns
And clattering of sword.
And...Read more of this...

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