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us may know
the best of freedom's soil. And if we knew that by our death we'd keep
that flag on high, For your boy and my boy, how gladly we would die.
Soldierly
The glory of a soldier--and a soldier's not a saint--
Is the way he does
his duty without grumbling or complaint; His work's not always
pleasant, but he does it rain or shine, And he grabs a bit of glory when
he's fighting in the line; But the lesson that he teaches every day to me
an' you
Is the way to do a duty that we do not like to do.
Any sort o' chap can whistle when his work is mostly fun; A hundred
want the pleasant jobs to every sturdy one
That'll grab the dreary duty

an' the mean an' lowly task, Or the drab an' cheerless service that life
often has to ask; But somebody has to do it, an' the test of me an' you

Is the way we face the labor that we do not like to do.
Now, it isn't very pleasant standin' guard out in the rain But it's in the
line o' duty, an' no soldier will complain, An' there isn't any soldier but
what sometimes hates his work When the dress parade is over, an'
perhaps he'd like to shirk, But he's there to follow orders, not to pick an'
choose his post, An' he sometimes shines the finest at the job he hates
the most.
Let's be soldiers in the struggle, let's be loyal through and through; Life
is going to give us duties that perhaps we'll hate to do. There'll be little
sacrifices that we will not like to make, There'll be many tasks
unpleasant that will fall to us to take. An' although we all would rather
do the work that brings applause, Let's forget our whims and fancies an'
just labor for the cause.
The Alarm
Get off your downy cots of ease,
There's work that must be done.

Great danger's riding on the seas.
The storm is coming on.
Don't
think that it will quickly pass.
Who smiles at distant fate,
And waits
until it strikes, alas!
Has roused himself too late.
Who thinks the fight will end before
The need of him arrives,
Is
lengthening this brutal war
And costing many lives.
For over us that
storm shall break
Ere many weeks have fled,
And we shall pay for
our mistake
In fields of mangled dead.
Be ready when the foe shall near,
Be there to strike him hard;
Let us,
though he be miles from here,
Be standing now on guard.

To-morrow's victories won't be won
By pluck that we display

To-morrow when the foe comes on,
But by our work to-day.
The Boy Enlists

His mother's eyes are saddened, and her cheeks
are stained with tears,
And I'm facing now the struggle that I've
dreaded through the years;
For the boy that was our baby has been
changed
into a man.
He's enlisted in the army as a true American.
He held her for a moment in his arms before
he spoke,
And I watched him as he kissed her, and it
seemed to me I'd choke,
For I knew just what was coming, and I
knew
just what he'd done!
'Another little mother had a soldier for a son.
When we'd pulled ourselves together, and the
first quick tears had dried,
We could see his eyes were blazing with
the fire
of manly pride;
We could see his head was higher than it ever
was before,
For we had a man to cherish, and our baby was
no more.
Oh, I don't know how to say it! With the sorrow
comes the joy
That there isn't any coward in the make-up of
our boy.
And with pride our hearts are swelling, though
with grief they're also hit,
For the boy that was our baby has stepped
forth to do his bit,

The Mother Faith
Little mother, life's adventure calls your boy away,
Yet he will return
to you on some brighter day;
Dry your tears and cease to sigh, keep
your mother smile, Brave and strong he will come back in a little while.
Little mother, heed them not--they who preach despair-- You shall have
your boy again, brave and oh, so fair!
Life has need of him to-day,
but with victory won,
Safely life shall bring to you once again your
son.
Little mother, keep the faith: not to death he goes;
Share with him the
joy of worth that your soldier knows. He is giving to the Flag all that
man can give,
And if you believe he will, surely he will live.
Little mother, through the night of his absence long,
Never cease to
think of him--brave and well and strong; You shall know his kiss again,
you shall see his smile, For your boy shall come to you in a little while.
Thoughts of a Soldier
Since men with life must purchase life
And some must die that more
may live,
Unto