Over Here Part 12

Of other men the Flag has told; It flies for others' deeds; Its pride is born of heroes bold Who served its by-gone needs.

But now our blood shall mingle there With blood of patriots dead, And through the years each stripe shall wear A deeper, truer red.

The splendor of the flag shall gleam In every radiant star, And finer shall the banner seem Because of what we are.

To-day new glory for the Flag We give our best to build; Of us shall future ages brag, By us their blood be thrilled; And as to us the flag has meant The greatness of the past, The Stars and Stripes shall represent Our courage to the last.

The children in the years to be Our trials shall discuss, And cheer the emblem of the free, In part, because of us.

To the Men at Home

No war is won by cannon fire alone; The soldier bears the grim and dreary role; He dies to serve the Flag that he has known; His duty is to gain the distant goal.

But if the toiler in his homeland fair Falter in faith and shrink from every test, If he be not on duty ever there, Lost to the cause is every soldier's best.

The men at home, the toiler in the shop, The keen-eyed watcher of the spinning drill Hear no command to vault the trench's top; They know not what it is to die or kill, And yet they must be brave and constant, too.

Upon them lies their precious country's fate; They also serve the Flag as soldiers do, 'Tis theirs to make a nation's army great.

You hold your country's honor in your care.

Her glory you shall help to make or mar; For they, who now her uniforms must wear Can be no braver soldiers than you are.

From day to day, in big and little deeds, At bench or lathe or desk or stretch of soil, You are the man your country sorely needs!

Will you not give to her your finest toil?

No war is won by cannon fire alone.

The men at home must also share the fight.

By what they are, a nation's strength is shown, The army but reflects their love of right.

Will you not help to hold our battle line, Will you not give the fullest of your powers In sacrifice and service that is fine That victory shall speedily be ours?

From Laughter to Labor

We have wandered afar in our hunting for pleasure, We have scorned the soul's duty to gather up treasure; We have lived for our laughter and toiled for our winning And paid little heed to the soul's simple sinning.

But light were the burdens that freighted us then, G.o.d and country, to-day let us prove we are men!

We have idled and dreamed in life's merriest places, The years have writ little of care in our faces; We have brought up our children, expectant of gladness, And little we've taught them of life and its sadness.

For distant and dim seemed the forces of wrong, G.o.d and country, to-day let us prove we are strong!

We have had our glad years, now the sad years are coming, We have danced to gay tunes, now we march to war's drumming.

We have laughed and have loved as we pleasantly toiled, And now we must show that our souls are unspoiled.

We must work that our Flag shall in honor still wave, G.o.d and country, to-day let us prove we are brave!

United

Forgotten petty difference now, The larger purpose glows, The storm is here, a common fear Its deadly lightning shows.

The s.h.i.+p of State must bear us all And danger makes us kin, As one, we all shall rise or fall, So shall we strive to win.

Our banner's flying at the mast, Our course lies straight ahead; The ocean's trough is deep and rough, The waves are stained with red.

The bond of danger tighter grows, We serve a common plan; Send o'er the sea the word that we Are all American.

One hundred million st.u.r.dy souls Once more united stand, As one, you will find them all behind The banner of our land.

And side by side they work to-day In silken garb or rag, And once again our troops of men Are brothers of the flag.

And from the storm that hovers low, And from the angry sea Where dangers lurk and hate's at work.

Shall come new victory.

The flag shall know not race nor creed, Nor different bands of men; A people strong round it shall throng To ne'er divide again.

April Thoughts

Listen to the laughter of the brook that's racin' by!

Listen to the chatter of the black-birds on the fence!

Stand an' see the beauties of the blue that's in the sky-- Then ask of G.o.d why mortals haven't any better sense Than to quarrel an' to battle Where the guns an' cannon rattle An' to slaughter one another an' to fill the world with hate.

G.o.d brings the buds to blossom Where the gentle breezes toss 'em An' the soul is blind to beauty that takes anger for its mate.

Listen to the singin' of the robins in the trees!

See the sunbeams flas.h.i.+n' where they're mirrored by the stream!

Hear the drowsy buzzin' of the honey-seekin' bees, Then draw a little closer to your G.o.d the while you dream.

When the world is dressed to cheer you Don't you feel Him standin' near you?

When your soul drinks in the beauty of the wonders in His plan, An' you've put away your pa.s.sions, Don't you think the works He fas.h.i.+ons In their beauty an' their bigness mock the littleness of man?

Oh, I never walk an orchard nor a field with daisies strewn, An' I never stand bare-headed gazin' everywhere about At the living joys around me, be it morning, night or noon, But I ask G.o.d to forgive me that I ever held a doubt.

Surely men must walk in blindness, With the whole world tuned to kindness, An' all dumb an' feathered creatures fairly bubblin' o'er with glee To devote themselves to madness That can only end in sadness An' to think that they are being what G.o.d put them here to be.

The Chaplain

He was just a small church parson when the war broke out, and he Looked and dressed and acted like all parsons that we see.

He wore the cleric's broadcloth and he hooked his vest behind, But he had a man's religion and he had a strong man's mind, And he heard the call to duty, and he quit his church and went, And he bravely tramped right with 'em everywhere the boys were sent.

He put aside his broadcloth and he put the khaki on; Said he'd come to be a soldier and was going to live like one.

Then he refereed the prize fights that the boys pulled off at night, And if no one else was handy he'd put on the gloves and fight.

He wasn't there a fortnight ere he saw the soldiers' needs, And he said: "I'm done with preaching; this is now the time for deeds."

He learned the sound of shrapnel, he could tell the size of sh.e.l.l From the shriek it make above him, and he knew just where it fell.

In the front line trench he labored, and he knew the feel of mud, And he didn't run from danger and he wasn't scared of blood.

He wrote letters for the wounded, and he cheered them with his jokes, And he never made a visit without pa.s.sing round the smokes.

Then one day a bullet got him, as he knelt beside a lad Who was "going west" right speedy, and they both seemed mighty glad, 'Cause he held the boy's hand tighter, and he smiled and whispered low, "Now you needn't fear the journey; over there with you I'll go."

And they both pa.s.sed out together, arm in arm I think they went.

He had kept his vow to follow everywhere the boys were sent.