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and brag,?As something of a by-gone day;?But now the Flag can start our tears?In moments of our greatest joy,?Old Glory in the sky appears?The symbol of our little boy.
We knew that sometimes people wept?To see the Flag go waving by,?But never guessed the griefs they kept--?We never understood just why.?But now our eyes grow quickly dim,?Our voices choke with sobs to-day;?The Flag is telling us of him,?Our little boy who's gone away.
We never knew the Flag could be?So much a part of human life,?We thought it beautiful to see?Before these bitter days of strife;?But now more beautiful it gleams,?And deeper in our hearts it dwells;?It is the emblem of our dreams,?For of our little boy it tells.
A Battle Prayer
God of battles, be with us now:?Guard our sons from the lead of shame,?Watch our sons when the cannons flame,?Let them not to a tyrant bow.
God of battles, to Thee we pray:?Be with each loyal son who fights?In the cause of justice and human rights,?Grant him strength and lead the way.
God of battles, our youth we give?To the battle line on a foreign soil,?To conquer hatred and lust and spoil;?Grant that they and their cause shall live.
Good Luck
Good luck! That's all I'm saying, as you sail across the sea; The best o' luck, in the parting, is the prayer you get from me. May you never meet a danger that you won't come safely through, May you never meet a German that can get the best of you; Oh! A thousand things may happen when a fellow's at the front, A thousand different mishaps, but here's hoping that they won't.
Good luck! That's all I'm saying, as you turn away to go, Good luck and plenty of it, may it be your lot to know; May you never meet rough weather, but remember if you do That the folks at home are wishing that you'll all come safely through. Oh! A thousand things may happen when a fellow bears the brunt Of His Country's fight for glory, but I'm praying that they won't.
Good luck! That's all I'm saying as you're falling into line; May the splendor of your service bring you everything that's fine; May the fates deal kindly with you, may you never know distress, And may every task you tackle end triumphant with success. Oh! A thousand things may happen that with joy your life will fill; You may not get all the gladness, but I'm hoping that you will.
A Prayer, 1918
Oh, make us worthy,?God, we pray,?To do thy service?Here to-day;?Endow us with?The strength we need?For every?Sacrificial deed!
The Change
'Twas hard to think that he must go,?We knew that we should miss him so,?We thought that he must always stay?Beside us, laughing, day by day;?That he must never know the care?And hurt and grief of life out there.?Then came the call for youth, and he?Talked with his mother and with me,?And suddenly we learned the boy?Was hungering to know the joy?Of doing something real with life,?And that he craved the test of strife.
And so we steeled ourselves to dread;?To see at night his empty bed;?To feel the silence and the gloom?That hovers o'er his vacant room,?And though we wept the day he went,?And many a lonely hour we've spent,?We've come to think as he, somehow,?And we are more contented now;?We're proud that we can stand and say?We have a boy who's gone away.?And we are glad to know that he?Is serving where he ought to be.
It's queer, the change that time has brought:?We're different now in speech and thought;?His letters home mean joy to us,?His difficulties we discuss.?When word of his promotion came,?His mother, with her eyes aflame?With happiness and pride, rushed out?To tell the neighbors round about.?Her boy! Her boy is doing well!?What greater news can mothers tell??I think that pity now we show?For those who have no boys to go.
Mothers and Wives
Mothers and wives, 'tis the call to arms?That the bugler yonder prepares to sound;?We stand on the brink of war's alarms?And your men may lie on a blood-stained
ground.?The drums may play and the flags may fly,?And our boys may don the brown and blue,?And the call that summons brave men to die?Is the call for glorious women, too.
Mothers and wives, if the summons comes,?You, as ever since war has been,?Must hear with courage the rolling drums?And dry your tears when the flags are seen.?For never has hero fought and died?Who has braver been than the mother, who?Buckled his saber at his side,?And sent him forward to dare and do.
Mothers and wives, should the call ring out,?It is you must answer your country's cry;?You must furnish brave hearts and stout?For the firing line where the heroes die.?And never a corpse on the field of strife?Should be honored more in his country's sight?Than the noble mother or noble wife?Who sent him