Then let all the fine colors flaunt and flare All pleasant and gay to see, True Blue’s the color alone to wear, True Blue’s the color for me. My Dear Old Mother. 57 My dear old mother and I did part When I was very young; Her memory still clings round my heart, As charming visions roam. They tell me of my mother’s form-- She watch’d me while I slept, And with her soft and gentle hand She wiped the tears I wept. And that same hand that held my own When I began to walk, And the joy that sparkled in my eyes When I began to talk; I remember, too, when I was ill, She kiss’d my burning brow; And the tears that fell upon my cheek I think I feel them now. And then she always knelt by me-- How gloomy was that day! She put her hand up to her breast, And taught me how to pray. Oh! mother, mother, in this breast Thy image still shall be, And I will love thee to the last, And always think of thee. Jeannette and Jeannot. 58 You are going far away, far away from poor Jeannette, There is no one left to love me now, and you, too, may forget; But my heart will be with you, wherever you may go, Can you look me in the face and say the same, Jeannot? When you wear the jacket red and the beautiful cockade, Oh! I fear that you’ll forget all the promises you made; With a gun upon your shoulder and your bayonet by your side, You’ll be taking some fair lady and be making her your bride. You’ll be taking, &c. Or, when glory leads the way, you’ll be madly rushing on, Never thinking if they kill you that my happiness is gone; If you win the day, perhaps a general you’ll be, Though I’m proud to think of that, what will become of me? Oh! if I were queen of France, or still better pope of Rome, I’d have no fighting men abroad, no weeping maids at home; All the world be at peace, or if kings must show their might, Why let them who make the quarrels be the only men to fight. Yes, let them, &c. The Answer.