There are days of grief before her, there are hours that she will weep, There are nights of anxious waiting when her fear will banish sleep; She has heard her country calling and has risen to the test, And has placed upon the altar of the nation's need, her best. And no man shall ever surfer in the turmoil of the fray The anguish of the mother of the boy who goes away. You may boast men's deeds of glory, you may tell their courage great, But to die is easier service than alone to sit and wait, And I hail the little mother, with the tear-stained face and grave Who has given the Flag a soldier--she's the bravest of the brave. And that banner we are proud of, with its red and blue and white Is a lasting tribute holy to all mothers' love of right. The Big Deeds We are done with little thinking and we're done with little deeds, We are done with petty conduct and we're done with narrow creeds; We have grown to men and women, and we've noble work to do, And to-day we are a people with a larger point of view. In a big way we must labor, if our Flag shall always fly. In a big way some must suffer, in a big way some must die. There must be no little dreaming in the visions that we see, There must be no selfish planning in the joys that are to be; 'We have set our faces eastwards to the rising of the sun That shall light a better nation, and there's big work to be done. And the petty souls and narrow, seeking only selfish gain, Shall be vanquished by the toilers big enough to suffer pain. It's a big task we have taken; 'tis for others we must fight. We must see our duty clearly in a white and shining light; We must quit our little circles where we've moved in little ways, And work, as men and women, for the bigger, better days. We must quit our selfish thinking and our narrow views and creeds. And as people, big and splendid, we must do the bigger deeds. The Wrist Watch Man He is marching dusty highways and he's riding bitter trails, His eyes are clear and shining and his muscles hard as nails. He is wearing Yankee khaki and a healthy coat of tan, And the chap that we are backing is the Wrist Watch Man. He's no parlor dude, a-prancing, he's no puny pacifist, And it's not for affectation there's a watch upon his wrist. He's a fine two-fisted scrapper, he is pure American, And the backbone of the nation is the Wrist Watch Man. He is marching with a rifle, he is digging in a trench, He is swapping English phrases with a poilu for his French; You will find him in the navy doing anything he can, For at every post of duty is the Wrist Watch Man.