Just as the son came home each night With youthful step and eyes alight, So he returns, and with a shout Of greeting puts her grief to rout. He says that she shall never miss The pleasure of that evening kiss, And with strong arms and manner brave He simulates the hug _he_ gave, And loves her, when the day is done, Both as a husband and a son. His laugh has caught a clearer ring; His step has claimed the old-time swing, And though _his_ absence hurts him, too, The bravest thing that he can do Is just to try to take _his_ place And keep the smiles on mother's face. So, merrily he jests at night-- Tells her with all a boy's delight Of what has happened in the town, And thus keeps melancholy down. Her letters breathe of hope and cheer; No note of gloom she sends from here, And as her husband reads at night The many messages she writes, He chuckles o'er the closing line. She's failed his secret to divine-- "When you get home," she tells the lad, "You'll scarcely know your doting dad; Although his hair is turning gray, He seems more like a boy each day." Christmas, 1918 They give their all, this Christmastide, that peace on earth shall reign; Upon the snows of Flanders now, brave blood has left its stain; With ribbons red we deck our gifts; theirs bear the red of pain. They give their lives that joy shall live and little children play; They pass that all that makes for peace shall not be swept away; They die that children yet unborn shall have their Christmas Day. Come! deck the home with holly wreaths and make this Christmas glow, And let Old Glory wave above the bough of mistletoe! Come! keep alive the faith of them who sleep 'neath Flanders snow. Ye brave of heart who dwell at home, make merry now a-while; The world has need of Christmas cheer its sorrows to beguile; And blest is he whose love can light grief's corners with a smile. Ring out once more, sweet Christmas bells, your message to the sky, Proclaim in golden tones again to every passer-by That peace shall rule the lands of earth, and only war shall die. Let love's sweet tenderness relieve war's cruel crimson clutch, Send forth the Christmas spirit, every troubled heart to touch; Blest will be all we do for them who do for us so much. The New Year Come you with dangers to fright us? or hazards to try out our souls? Then may you find us undaunted; determined to get to our goals. Now, white are the pages you bring us to fill with the tales of our deeds, And I pray we shall square at the finish the work of our lives with our creeds.