Over Here | Page 4

Edgar A. Guest
forth in the cause of right.
Mothers and wives, 'tis the call for men?To give their strength and to give their lives;?But well we know, such a summons then?Is the call for mothers and loyal wives,?For you must give us the strength we need,?You must give us the boys in blue,?For never a boy or a man shall bleed?But a mother or wife shall suffer, too.
The Call to Service
These are the days when little thoughts?Must cease men's minds to occupy;?The nation needs men's larger creeds,?Big men must answer to her cry;?No longer selfish ways we tread,?The greater task lies just ahead.
These are the days when petty things?By all men must be thrust aside;?The country needs men's finest deeds,?Awakened is the nation's pride;?Men must forsake their selfish strife?Once more to guard their country's life.
Kelly Ingram
His name was Kelly Ingram; he was Alabama's son,?And he whistled "Yankee Doodle," as he stood beside his gun; There was laughter in his make-up, there was manhood in his face, And he knew the best traditions and the courage of his race; Now there's not a heart among us but should swell with loyal pride When he thinks of Kelly Ingram and the splendid way he died.
On the swift Destroyer Cassin he was merely gunner's mate, But up there to-day, I fancy, he is standing with the great. On that grim day last October his position on the craft Was that portion of the vessel which the sailors christen aft; There were deep sea bombs beside him to be dropped upon the Hun Who makes women folks his victims and then gloats o'er what he's done.
From the lookout came a warning; came the cry all sailors fear, A torpedo was approaching, and the vessel's doom was near; Ingram saw the streak of danger, but he saw a little more, A greater menace faced them than that missile had in store; If those deep sea bombs beside him were not thrown beneath the wave, Every man aboard the Cassin soon would find a watery grave.
It was death for him to linger, but he figured if he ran And quit his post of duty, 'twould be death for every man; So he stood at his position, threw those depth bombs overboard, And when that torpedo struck them, he went forth to meet his Lord. Oh, I don't know how to say it, but these whole United States Should remember Kelly Ingram--he who died to save his mates.
The Joy to Be
Oh, mother, be you brave of heart and keep
your bright eyes shining;?Some day the smiles of joy shall start and you
shall cease repining.?Beyond the dim and distant line the days of
peace are waiting,?When you shall have your soldier fine, and men
shall turn from hating.
Oh, mother, bear the pain a-while, as long ago
you bore it;?You suffered then to win his smile, and you
were happier for it;?And now you suffer once again, and bear your
weight of sorrow;?Yet you shall thrill with gladness when he wins
the glad to-morrow.
Oh, mother, when the cannons roar and all the
brave are fighting,?Remember that the son you bore the wrongs
of earth is righting;?Remember through the hours of pain that he
with all his brothers?Is battling there to win again a happy world
for mothers.
He Should Meet a Mother There
If he should meet a mother there?Along some winding Flanders road,?No extra touch of grief or care?He'll add unto her heavy load.?But he will kindly take her arm?And tender as her son will be;?He'll lead her from the path of harm?Because of me.
Be she the mother of his foe,?He will not speak to her in hate;?My boy will never stoop so low?As motherhood to desecrate.?But she shall know what once I knew--?Eyes that are glorious to see,?The light of manhood shining through--?Because of me.
He will salute her as they meet,?And stand before her bare of head;?If she be hungry, she may eat?His last remaining bit of bread.?She'll find those splendid arms and strong?Quick to assist her, tenderly,?And they will guard her from all wrong?Because of me.
I miss his thoughtful, loving care;?I miss his smile these dreary days;?But should he meet a mother there,?Helpless and lost in war's grim maze,?She need not fear to take his arm,?As though she'd reared him at her knee;?My son will shield her from all harm?Because of me.
A Father's Tribute
I don't know what they'll put him at, or what
his post may be;?I cannot guess the task that waits for him across
the sea,?But I have known him through the years, and
when there's work to do,?I know he'll meet his duty well, I'll swear that
he'll be true.
I sometimes fear that he may die, but never that
he'll shirk;?If death shall want him death must go and take
him at his work;?This splendid sacrifice he makes is filled with
terrors grim,?And I have many thoughts of fear, but not one
fear of him.
The foe may
Continue reading on your phone by scaning this QR Code

 / 32
Tip: The current page has been bookmarked automatically. If you wish to continue reading later, just open the Dertz Homepage, and click on the 'continue reading' link at the bottom of the page.