Oh, mother, when the cannons roar and all the brave are fighting, Remember that the son you bore the wrongs of earth is righting; Remember through the hours of pain that he with all his brothers Is battling there to win again a happy world for mothers. He Should Meet a Mother There If he should meet a mother there Along some winding Flanders road, No extra touch of grief or care He'll add unto her heavy load. But he will kindly take her arm And tender as her son will be; He'll lead her from the path of harm Because of me. Be she the mother of his foe, He will not speak to her in hate; My boy will never stoop so low As motherhood to desecrate. But she shall know what once I knew-- Eyes that are glorious to see, The light of manhood shining through-- Because of me. He will salute her as they meet, And stand before her bare of head; If she be hungry, she may eat His last remaining bit of bread. She'll find those splendid arms and strong Quick to assist her, tenderly, And they will guard her from all wrong Because of me. I miss his thoughtful, loving care; I miss his smile these dreary days; But should he meet a mother there, Helpless and lost in war's grim maze, She need not fear to take his arm, As though she'd reared him at her knee; My son will shield her from all harm Because of me. A Father's Tribute I don't know what they'll put him at, or what his post may be; I cannot guess the task that waits for him across the sea, But I have known him through the years, and when there's work to do, I know he'll meet his duty well, I'll swear that he'll be true. I sometimes fear that he may die, but never that he'll shirk; If death shall want him death must go and take him at his work; This splendid sacrifice he makes is filled with terrors grim, And I have many thoughts of fear, but not one fear of him. The foe may rob my life of joy, the foe may take my all, And desolate my days shall be if he shall have to fall. But this I know, whate'er may be the grief that I must face, Upon his record there will be no blemish of disgrace. His days have all been splendid days, there lies no broken trust Along the pathway of his youth to molder in the dust; Honor and truth have marked his ways, in him I can be glad; He is as fine and true a son as ever a father had. Runner McGee (Who had "Return if Possible" Orders.)