A father's pride, a mother's teardrop starts;
Their soldier boy must brave a foreign foe!
A pang sweeps through those loving parents' hearts,
That none save such as they can ever know.
Their soldier boy must brave a foreign foe!
A pang sweeps through those loving parents' hearts,
That none save such as they can ever know.
"My darling boy, be it on a foreign shore,
Or be it on the dark and angry sea;
Fail not, when evening shadows hover o'er,
To lift thy soul, and sink on bended knee!"
Or be it on the dark and angry sea;
Fail not, when evening shadows hover o'er,
To lift thy soul, and sink on bended knee!"
The stars and stripes that float with pride and grace,
Inspire their hearts that long remembered day;
The parting kiss, the lingering, last embrace—
We turn again to see them march away!
Inspire their hearts that long remembered day;
The parting kiss, the lingering, last embrace—
We turn again to see them march away!
1918
Papa Is Sleeping Somewhere Over There
A lowly home beside the grove we see,
Where evening shadows darkly gather o'er,
And children gaze at mamma's placid face,
While crepe hangs sadly by the cottage door.
Where evening shadows darkly gather o'er,
And children gaze at mamma's placid face,
While crepe hangs sadly by the cottage door.
"Why fall those crystal tears, my mamma dear?
We have the home, where sway the leafy vines,
Where budding flowers bedeck the velvet lawn,
And crimson climbing rose the trellis twines.
We have the home, where sway the leafy vines,
Where budding flowers bedeck the velvet lawn,
And crimson climbing rose the trellis twines.
"Pray, then, what need we now, my mamma dear?
We have the birds that sing in verdant bowers;
Among the blossoms buzz the busy bees,
Whilst health and friends in bounteous store are ours.
We have the birds that sing in verdant bowers;
Among the blossoms buzz the busy bees,
Whilst health and friends in bounteous store are ours.
"We list to baby's cooing song of joy,
And watch her wave her little dimpled hand;
Each night in downy bed she sweetly sleeps,
While Papa's somewhere in a foreign land."
And watch her wave her little dimpled hand;
Each night in downy bed she sweetly sleeps,
While Papa's somewhere in a foreign land."
"Yes, yes, my child, we have these blessings all;
Home, friends and flowers, sunshine, birds and air;
But, oh, the pang of grief you ne'er may know—
For Papa's sleeping somewhere over there!"
Home, friends and flowers, sunshine, birds and air;
But, oh, the pang of grief you ne'er may know—
For Papa's sleeping somewhere over there!"
1918
Scatter Sweet Roses
No voices arise from the dark, silent tomb;
We are left with our thoughts of the vanishing past.
Let us list as we may through the darkening gloom,
And scatter sweet roses whilst roses may last.
We are left with our thoughts of the vanishing past.
Let us list as we may through the darkening gloom,
And scatter sweet roses whilst roses may last.
Yes, scatter sweet roses while sorrow we brave,
Fond mothers who list for a step as of yore.
For poppies, fair poppies, keep watch o'er a grave;
Then scatter sweet roses 'neath crape on the door.
Fond mothers who list for a step as of yore.
For poppies, fair poppies, keep watch o'er a grave;
Then scatter sweet roses 'neath crape on the door.
And now beside the Marne forlorn,
Where lately waved the tasseled corn,
Where now the yellow poppies bloom,
We bow before a voiceless tomb.
Where lately waved the tasseled corn,
Where now the yellow poppies bloom,
We bow before a voiceless tomb.
1922
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