He held her for a moment in his arms before
he spoke,
And I watched him as he kissed her, and it
seemed to me I'd choke,
For I knew just what was coming, and I knew
just what he'd done!
'Another little mother had a soldier for a son.
When we'd pulled ourselves together, and the
first quick tears had dried,
We could see his eyes were blazing with the fire
of manly pride;
We could see his head was higher than it ever
was before,
For we had a man to cherish, and our baby was
no more.
Oh, I don't know how to say it! With the sorrow
comes the joy
That there isn't any coward in the make-up of
our boy.
And with pride our hearts are swelling, though
with grief they're also hit,
For the boy that was our baby has stepped
forth to do his bit,
The Mother Faith
Little mother, life's adventure calls your boy away,
Yet he will return to you on some brighter day;
Dry your tears and cease to sigh, keep your mother smile,
Brave and strong he will come back in a little while.
Little mother, heed them not--they who preach despair--
You shall have your boy again, brave and oh, so fair!
Life has need of him to-day, but with victory won,
Safely life shall bring to you once again your son.
Little mother, keep the faith: not to death he goes;
Share with him the joy of worth that your soldier knows.
He is giving to the Flag all that man can give,
And if you believe he will, surely he will live.
Little mother, through the night of his absence long,
Never cease to think of him--brave and well and strong;
You shall know his kiss again, you shall see his smile,
For your boy shall come to you in a little while.
Thoughts of a Soldier
Since men with life must purchase life
And some must die that more may live,
Unto the Great Cashier of strife
A fine accounting let me give.
Perhaps to-morrow I shall stand
Before his cage, prepared to buy
New splendor for my native land:
Oh, God, then bravely let me die!
If after I shall fall, shall rise
A fairer land than I have known,
I shall not grudge my sacrifice,
Although I pay the price alone.
If still more beautiful to see
The Stars and Stripes o'er men shall wave
And finer shall my country be,
To-morrow let me find my grave.
To-night life seems so fair and sweet,
Yet tyranny is stalking here,
And hate and lust and foul deceit
Hang heavy on the atmosphere.
Injustice seeks to throttle right,
And laughter's stifled to a sigh.
If death can take so great a blight
From human lives, then let me die.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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