Over Here Part 8

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Oh, who will tend the roses now and who will sow the seeds?

And who will do the heavy work the little garden needs?

And who will tell the lad of mine the things he wants to know, And take his hand and lead him round the paths we used to go?

For it's charge, charge, charge, And it's face the foe once more; Forget the things you love the most And keep your mind on war.

Bigger Than His Dad

He has heard his country calling, and has fallen into line, And he's doing something bigger than his daddy ever did; He has caught a greater vision than the finest one of mine, And I know to-day I'm prouder of than sorry for the kid.

His speech is soft and vibrant with the messages of truth, And he says some things of duty that I cannot understand; It may be that I'm selfish, but this ending of his youth Is not the dream I cherished and it's not the thing I planned.

I only know he's bigger in his uniform to-day Than I, who stand and watch him as he drills, have ever been; That he sees a greater vision of life's purpose far away, And a finer goal to die for than my eyes have ever seen.

I wish I felt as he does, wish I had his sense of right; With the vision he possesses I should be supremely glad; But I sometimes start to choking when I think of him at night-- The boy that has grown bigger, yes, and better than his dad.

The Boy's Adventure

"Dear Father," he wrote me from Somewhere in France, Where he's waiting with Pers.h.i.+ng to lead the advance, "There's little the censor permits me to tell Save the fact that I'm here and am happy and well.

The French people cheered as we marched from our s.h.i.+p At the close of a really remarkable trip; They danced and they screamed and they shouted and ran, And I blush as I write. I was kissed by a man!

"I've seen a great deal since I bade you good-bye, I have witnessed a battle far up in the sky; I have heard the dull roar of a long line of guns, And seen the destruction that's worked by the Huns; Some scenes I'll remember, and some I'll forget, But the welcome he gave me! I'm feeling it yet.

Oh, try to imagine your boy if you can, As he looked and he felt, being kissed by a man!

"'Ah, Meestaire!' he cried in a voice that was shrill, And his queer little eyes with delight seemed to fill, And before I was wise to the custom, or knew Just what he was up to, about me he threw His arms, and he hugged me, and then with a squeak, He planted a chaste little kiss on each cheek.

He was stocky and strong and his whiskers were tan.

Now please keep it dark. I've been kissed by a man."

Out of It All

Out of it all shall come splendor and gladness; Out of the madness and out of the sadness, Clearer and finer the world shall arise.

Why then keep sorrow and doubt in your eyes?

Joy shall be ours when the warfare is over; Children shall gleefully romp in the clover; Here with our heroes at home and at rest, We shall rejoice with the world at its best.

Not in vain, not in vain, is our bright banner flying; Not for naught are the sons of our fond mothers dying; The gloom and despair are not ever to last; The world shall be better when they shall have pa.s.sed.

So mourn not his absence, but smile and be brave; You shall have him again from the brink of the grave In a wonderful world 'neath a wonderful sun; He shall come to your arms with his victory won.

The Christmas Box

Oh, we have s.h.i.+pped his Christmas box with ribbons red 'tis tied, And he shall find the things he likes from them he loves inside, But he must miss the kisses true and all the laughter gay And he must miss the smiles of home upon his Christmas Day.

He'll spend his Christmas 'neath the Flag; he'll miss each merry face, Old Glory smiling down on him must take his mother's place, Yet in the Christmas box we've sent, in fancy he will find The laughter and the tears of joy that he has left behind.

His mother's tenderness is there, his father's kindly way, And all that went last year to make his merry Christmas Day; He'll see once more his sister's smile, he'll hear the baby shout, And as he opens every gift we'll gather round about.

He cannot come to share with us the joys of Christmas Day; The Flag has called to him, and he is serving far away.

Undaunted, unafraid and fine he stands to duty grim, And so this Christmas we have tried to s.h.i.+p ourselves to him.

A Plea

G.o.d grant me these: the strength to do Some needed service here; The wisdom to be brave and true; The gift of vision clear, That in each task that comes to me Some purpose I may plainly see.

G.o.d teach me to believe that I Am stationed at a post, Although the humblest 'neath the sky, Where I am needed most, And that, at last, if I do well, My humble services will tell.

G.o.d grant me faith to stand on guard, Uncheered, unspoke, alone, And see behind such duty hard My service to the throne.

Whate'er my task, be this my creed: I am on earth to fill a need.

Your Country Needs You

The country needs a man like you, It has a task for you to do.

It has a job for you to face.

Somewhere for you it has a place.

Not all the slackers dodge the work Of service where the cannon lurk, Not all the slackers on life's stage Are boys of military age.

The old, the youthful and unfit Must also do their little bit.

The country needs a man like you, 'Twill suffer if you prove untrue.

What though you cannot bear a gun?

That isn't all that's to be done.

There are a thousand other ways To serve your country through the days Of trial and the nights of storm.

You need not wear a uniform Or with the men in council sit To serve the Flag and do your bit.

Somewhere for you there is a place, Somewhere you have a task to face.

There's none so helpless or so frail That cannot, when our foes a.s.sail, In some way help our common cause And be deserving of applause.

Behind the Flag we all must be, Each at his post, awake to see That in so far as he has striven, His best was to his country given.

You can be patient, brave and strong, And not complain when plans go wrong; You can be cheerful at your toil, Or till, perhaps, some patch of soil; You can encourage others who Have heavier, greater tasks to do; You can be loyal, not in creed Alone, but in each thought and deed; You can make sacrifices, too.

The country needs a man like you,

Over Here Part 8

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Over Here Part 8 summary

You're reading Over Here Part 8. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Edgar A. Guest already has 606 views.

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