74
Poems
Well, some time ago his fireman,
Wanting to get more directions
About the sifted cinders that
He wished to send to Spain,
Found him seated in his red room
Reading from a mighty volume,—
Then a conversation followed
That expressed his grief and pain.
Wanting to get more directions
About the sifted cinders that
He wished to send to Spain,
Found him seated in his red room
Reading from a mighty volume,—
Then a conversation followed
That expressed his grief and pain.
"Sire, the cinders wait your orders,
And most surely does Spain need them,
She has found that ships cannot be sailed
By boasts and empty breath.
And if something is not shortly done
Your most obedient children
Will meet those horrid Yankees,
And be quickly put to death."
And most surely does Spain need them,
She has found that ships cannot be sailed
By boasts and empty breath.
And if something is not shortly done
Your most obedient children
Will meet those horrid Yankees,
And be quickly put to death."
"Yes," sighed Satan, "I must help them,
For Americans displease me!
They're a stubborn lot of fellows
And not subject to my will,
And I fear my dear and cherished Spain
Is really in great danger,
For the Yankee guns are aiming,
And they always shoot to kill.
For Americans displease me!
They're a stubborn lot of fellows
And not subject to my will,
And I fear my dear and cherished Spain
Is really in great danger,
For the Yankee guns are aiming,
And they always shoot to kill.
