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Fiction_L Archives
Poetry Query - 2nd Shot
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FROM: "Rolf W. Laun" <[removed]@swbell.net>
REC'D: 12/2/00, 7:55 AM
There's a transport in the harbor
out beyond old Corrigedor
I've heard the bullets whistle
I've seen the bolo kill
I've heard the war tribes chanting
From their outposts on the hill.
I've seen the Moro in the palm grove
Murder shining in his eye.
I've felt the hot breath of the leopard
As he's lying down to die.
I know the plague smells of Manila
And the Chino's wily ways
And what it means to be a soldier for fifty cents a day.
So its home again, home again
America for me
My heart is turning home again
And there I long to be.
To a mother and a sweetheart
Who long and look and wait for me
There's a transport in the harbor
And I'm going home today.
->Rolf Laun<-
San Antonio Public Library
FROM: Kathleen Stipek <[removed]@exchange.acld.lib.fl.us>
REC'D: 12/2/00, 8:28 AM
Kathleen Stipek, Alachua County Library District (FMG), 401 E.
University AV, Gainesville, FL 32601
[removed]@exchange.acld.lib.fl.us
352-334-3938 (voice)
352-334-3948 (fax)
Non, Merci--Cyrano de Bergerac
-----Original Message-----
From: Rolf W. Laun [[removed]@swbell.net]
Sent: Saturday, December 02, 2000 8:51 AM
To: Fiction_L
Subject: Poetry Query - 2nd Shot
I posted this query a while ago put didn't have much information to go on.
Since then the patron who originally asked the question got together with
her brothers and came up with a bit more to go on. While originally we
thought it might be Kipling, it may more likely be an American poet. The
poem was apparently written after the Philippine Insurrection (either
1896-98 or 1899-1902). If any one has any idea or knows the best places to
search this type of information, I would sure appreciate it...it's driving
me crazy to have this much of the poem and still not be able to determine
where it came from. Here's what they remember:
There's a transport in the harbor
out beyond old Corrigedor
I've heard the bullets whistle
I've seen the bolo kill
I've heard the war tribes chanting
From their outposts on the hill.
I've seen the Moro in the palm grove
Murder shining in his eye.
I've felt the hot breath of the leopard
As he's lying down to die.
I know the plague smells of Manila
And the Chino's wily ways
And what it means to be a soldier for fifty cents a day.
So its home again, home again
America for me
My heart is turning home again
And there I long to be.
To a mother and a sweetheart
Who long and look and wait for me
There's a transport in the harbor
And I'm going home today.
->Rolf Laun<-
San Antonio Public Library
FROM: "Kathryn Mannix" <[removed]@hotmail.com>
REC'D: 12/2/00, 11:15 AM
Oh, London is a man's town, there's power in the air;
And Paris is a woman's town, with flowers in her hair;
And it's sweet to dream in Venice, and it's great to study Rome;
But when it comes to living, there is no place like home.
I know that Europe's wonderful, yet something seems to lack;
The Past is too much with her, and the people looking back.
Oh, it's home again, and home again, America for me!
I want a ship that's westward bound to plow the rolling sea,
To the blessed Land of Room Enough beyond the ocean bars,
Where the air is full of sunlight and the flag is full of stars.
Kate Mannix
Readers Advisory
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