# Eagle Quills

On September 22, 1919, Whitcomb wrote his first book of poems

## Eagle Quills
### FRATERNITY

As I lounged in my study yesternight, While the old fashioned grate poured forth its heat, With restfully quiet embers alight, My weary eyelids closed as if to meet The future brotherhood of man.
Then clear in frames of blood stained lifeless flesh, Appeared torn faces of war crazed throngs
Cursing fighting struggling, through barbed-wire mesh
To gain their right to sing the song of songs, The righteous brotherhood of man.
And in the background of the fiendish strife, Huddled together with babes at their breast, Lay starved naked women slashed by the knife
Of the hellish foe whose tortures attest
They scorn the brotherhood of man.
Then a burst of light outlining a star
Shone into my aching soul like a sword,
Bearing this message of strength from afar-
"Strive unto death to make the barbrous horde
Respect the brotherhood of man."
The bitter cold of the morn awoke me,- Yet the joy of seeing God's beckning light
Fired my veins, and the lingring memory
Of the Bethlehem Star urged me to fight To save the brotherhood of man.

### THE WAYSIDE INN-1918

One last visit to Sudbury town, To that inn where once were told
Tales by men of great renown,
And history was handed down.
The cranes were swinging as of yore, O'er hearts begrimed with soot; Still burn the huge logs, and the floor
Still creaks as guests come through the door.
Of stalwart men in buff and blue
We still leave memory,
And in their stead have come to view
Sons of their sons in khaki hue.
The old old spirit still holds sway- The long hard fight to make men free;
The old time yearning for the fray
Still quickens hearts of men to-day.
Farewell then old inn for a spell,
I am off to join the ranks! Some day I may come back and tell
Great tales myself-if not farewell.

### THE AVIATOR

Strong youth he was still in his teens, When war clouds rumbled from on high, And pondering deeply what best means
To serve his land he chose to fly. Forthwith he gave his mind and strength
To train acutely ear and eye- That he might prove his worth at length
And win distinction in the sky.
Each day he strove with all his might;
Each night when tests were done he'd lie
Awake with planning every flight
Which he on future days would try- For those were times when each man's fight Must be swoop down low then ply
The foe with tools of death and night- To win distinction in the sky.
But ere his training was complete
A changing current rushing by- An instant flare of scorching heat- Engulfed his plane with whirring sigh,
Swift to the earth in pain he fell,
But he uttered neither pain nor cry- The stars mayhap have heard his knell-
Who won distinction in the sky.

### THE CROSS OF WAR

1913
Unto his cheerful homestead comes
The young member of Parliament;
A happy chap who always hums
His home song, where his love is spent
Ah light of the civilized world.
1914
Unto the lonely homestead comes
A weeping wife with children three- Her husband has followed the drums
Of his regiment over the sea.
Ah slight of the civilized world.
1915
Unto the anxious household came
A message of the absent one.
With sobs twas read her husband's name
Was there "fell fighting at his gun." Ah plight of the civilized world.
1916
Unto the cheerless household came
A tiny box with medal red.
Proclaiming loud its owner's fame- What recompense for loved one dead!
Ah blight of the civilized world.
1917
Unto the saddened household came
A message from a younger land; "Have faith we come to save your name,
We come to lend a helping hand."
Ah fight of the civilized world.
1918
Unto the waiting household comes
The joyous peal of victory; Peace and rest are brought by the drums
Of the men from over the sea.
Ah might of the civilized world.

### BELGIUM

If you had a sister and while she slept A hideous monster silently crept
Up beside her to quench his vicious thirst
And being repulsed his passion was nursed
To fury he slashed her white neck across
A dastardly gash with a crimson gloss;
Then dipped his foul hands in the sanguine flow
And wiped them upon her soft tresses so;
If you had a sister you have indeed
Belgium the victim of Autocracy What would you do what will you do we want to see!

### JOAN OF ARC

(From the French of Alfred de Musset)
RECITATION
In vain I seek the rest I lack, My heart is filled with the sorrow of France. Even from this drear spot of death like trance
My loved land s grief would draw me back.
CHANT
Sullen forest retreat so aloof, Silent witness of such secret spleen,
From my sight at least hide the dark proof
Of my country's shame its wretched scene. O saddened boughs, should we fail in the fight, Conceal with thy branches my father s roof-
Perhaps I shall not see him again.
RECITATION
Quiet pervades the valley. The nightingale begins to rally
His songs of sorrow and love.
Already on the flowers descends
The daylight from above.
What is the noise so loud and shrill?
It is the bugle here beside our walls,
I see the strange flag which rises and falls, Defiant on yonder hill.
CHANT
Have you forsaken us this day, Guardian angels of our country?
Have pity if God does not see- If he remembers save us pray. I thought I felt the whole earth jar,
I thought the sky began to sway, And in a ray of light from afar
A voice from the wood bidding me stay,
It was not human, it was not mine
Mother of Christ was it Thine?
Didst Thou pity the tears that fell from my eyes?
It was the Holy Ghost did fill me.
I felt the forceful smart
Of an avenging Deity
Descend into my heart- In war.

### ALONE IN THE FOG

Do you ever like to walk through a night
When the fog is dense and the rain
Pours down in clouds from skies insane
While all the world sleeps devoid of sight?
Alone you wander, while the dampness bites Clear into your lungs till they ache;
Cutting membrane each breath you take;
Yet deep in your soul burn sensitive lights.
Bright fires are kindled that heat up thought's sword With which you dissect each being
Who blindly on earth tries keying
His soul to the pitch of Infinite chord.
Religion so cold, all routine and fear; Then commerce which varies each week;
Oft changing the bold to the meek;
And mothers' fond hopes, then suffring each year.
Plainly you see the struggles and tangles
Of women and men, mortal knaves
Yearning to reach, merely as slaves, The Land of Exemption from wrangles.
Thus the whole world revolves every cog
Before your eyes-a wretched view. If you believe these facts untrue- Walk abroad some night alone in the fog!

### HUMAN SEEDS

We are all judged by our deeds,
Be they small or great;
For by them we plant the seeds
Which are fondly nursed by Fate.
So like the plant we mortals
Arise from the deep abyss,
Then open wide the portals
Unsealed by a mother s kiss.
Into the world we wander
Marveling at awesome sights; Then when it darkens yonder
Return from the dizzy heights.
Soon come the storms upon us; And to stand the hardest blows
We pray our God to shield us- To protect us from Life s snows.
Storms in the form of sorrow,
And storms in the form of woe, But sunshine on the morrow Warms each weary heart below.
So straighten up my brothers,
Remember to whine is wrong;
Come dry your eyes dear mothers,
And cheer the world with your song.

### LIFE

A cupful of thankful tears at your birth; A cupful of loving smiles through your youth; A cupful of hope when you're proving your worth, And a mother's blessing beside.
A cupful of courage when things look bleak; A cupful of prayer when you wander afar; A cupful of fear when your grip's growing weak; And a mother's blessing beside.
A cupful of friendship while fortune reigns; A cupful of pain when you love; Then cupfuls of earth to hide your remains; And a mother's blessing beside.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1928, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 95 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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