„Hail Thou. Oh You Valliant Warriors“. These words crossed my mind reading this rhime. Pathetic?….. Yes! This Rhime?…. Yes, and it’s even more beautiful than pathetic. One can only love and admire these kind of illustrations, where motor racing events in the heydays of motoring are compared with Legends of ancient and epic battles that are still shrouded in the mists of history long gone by. What utter imagination and fantasy, beautiful!
Text and jpegs by courtesy of hathitrust.org www.hathitrust.org, compiled by motorracinghistory.com
MOTOR AGE Vol. XXIII, No. 22 Chicago, May 29, 1913
To America’s Defenders
by J.C. Burton
O! my sons, give heed to the gods of speed
When they call on you to-day;
There’s a race to run from the starting gun
Till the bolts and nuts give way;
And the call to flight is a challenge old
From the men who dare to the men who’re bold.
Thus does the Motherland implore her sons with nerves of steel
To conquer Space in grueling race and grind Time ’neath the wheel;
Full well she knows to what rare heights her daring sons aspire,-
Projectile laws are shot with flaws before Supreme Desire.
The speedway bricks glare in the sun as if flushed with your pride,
But deeds of yore are naught before to-day’s Homeric ride.
Your plumed prestige is challenged now and foemen of renown
Are at the tape with eyes agape and coveting your crown.
Invaders from far foreign shores will fight you league for league;
The’ll break your nerve and make you serve the master, cursed Fatigue,
Unless you meet them hood to hood and tilt them wheel to wheel,-
A man of pluck will jeer at Luck and force the Fates to kneel.
The exhausts pop impatiently and alien engines roar
A bold defi that you and I have seldom heard before;
A challenge from a land that once on paths of Progress led:
The boasting Gaul has heard the call and yearns for vict’ry red.
The sturdy Belgian seeks the wreath which you are proud to wear –
The stake is great, he leers at Fate and mocks Death’s hidden snare.
The stoic Briton, triumph-bred, by heritage is fit
To match his strength against your strength; his grit against your grit.
O! my sons, give heed to the gods of speed,
For they call on you again;
If you give your best in this crucial test,
Then our hopes will not be vain:
And the call to flight is a challenge rare
From the men who’re brave to the men who dare.