FROM THE GREAT WAR
69
It matters not where some may live;
If my dear son his life must give,
Hosannas I will sing for him,
E'en though my eyes with tears be dim.
And when the war is over, when
His gallant comrades come again,
I'll cheer them as they're marching by,
Rejoicing that they did not die.
And when his vacant place I see
My heart will bound with joy that he
Was mine so long—my fair young son—
And cheer for him whose work is done.
—Dr. James D. Hughes
