E Pluribus

Some have sung of the days in Vienna, And others the strains “Wacht am Rhein;” Men have mellowed to old Finnish folk tunes, Kept step to Bavarian rhyme. Old Madrid set our Spanish friends boasting: Hungarian songs we’ve heard, too, Yet, spite of the singing and toasting, They live under Red, White and Blue.

They never go back to Vienna Nor foregather again on the Rhine; Have ne’er seen their kin in bleak Finland Nor been o’er Bavarian line. They’re not in Madrid when they’re boasting; In Hungary things might not ring true. All fine are the singing and toasting, But they live under Red, White and Blue.

The Old World says we are commercial, Yet “a dollar’s a dollar,” they say. Have done with your “green eyes,” my brothers, For world o’er achievement holds sway. Come, cease your irrational boasting, And stand by the land sought by you; Then when you are singing and toasting, Sing, sing for the Red, White and Blue,

From the Somme comes democracy’s pleading; The Thames takes up the refrain. The Scotch and the Irish are struggling; Brave Canada’s not called in vain. The Flemish not yielding or boasting; Proud Portugal fights her way through. And Italy’s brave sons we’re toasting, We’re coming, the Red, White and Blue.

We’ll ne’er crook to yoke of a master; To superman never pay toll; We’ll never bow down like a vassal; No, better the hemlock, the bowl! The cause of humanity’s calling. Take heart, we have heard it; we’re true; For that cause brave men are now falling, The men of the Red, White, and Blue.