Over Here Part 14

As he entered a silence fell over the place; Every eye in the room was turned up to his face.

His head was up high and his eyes seemed aflame With a wonderful light, and he laughed as he came.

He was young--not yet thirty--yet never he made One sign of regret for the price he had paid.

One moment before this young soldier came in I had caught bits of speech in the clatter and din From the fine men about me in life's dress parade Who were boasting the cash sacrifices they'd made; And I'd thought of my own paltry service with pride, When I turned and that hero of battle I spied.

I shall never forget the hot flushes of shame That rushed to my cheeks as that young fellow came.

He was cheerful and smiling and clear-eyed and fine And out of his face golden light seemed to s.h.i.+ne.

And I thought as he pa.s.sed me on crutches: "How small Are the gifts that I make if I don't give my all."

Some day in the future in many a place More soldiers just like him we'll all have to face.

We must sit with them, talk with them, laugh with them, too, With the signs of their service forever in view And this was my thought as I looked at him then --Oh, G.o.d! make me worthy to stand with such men.

The Friendly Greeting

Oh, we have friends in England, and we have friends in France, And should we have to travel there through some strange circ.u.mstance, Undaunted we should sail away, and gladly should we go, Because awaiting us would be somebody that we know.

Full many a journey here we make where countless strangers roam, Yet everywhere our faces turn we find a friend from home.

Oh, we have friends in distant towns, and friends 'neath foreign skies, And yet we think of him as lost whene'er a loved one dies.

Yet he has merely traveled on, as many a friend must do; Within a distant city fair he waits for me and you, And when shall come our time to make that journey through the gloam, To welcome us he will be there, the smiling friend from home.

We Need a Few More Optimists

We need a few more optimists, The kind that double up their fists And set their jaws, determined-like, A blow at infamy to strike.

Not smiling men, who drift along And compromise with every wrong; Not grinning optimists who cry That right was never born to die, But optimists who'll fight to give The truth an honest chance to live.

We need a few more optimists For places in our fighting lists, The kind of hopeful men who make Real sacrifice for freedom's sake; The optimist, with purpose strong, Who stands to battle every wrong, Takes off his coat, and buckles in The better joys of earth to win!

The optimist who worries lest The vile should overthrow the best.

We need a few more optimists, The brave of heart that long resists The force of Hate and Greed and l.u.s.t And keeps in G.o.d and man his trust, Believing, as he makes his fight That everything will end all right-- Yet through the dreary days and nights Unfalteringly serves and fights, And helps to gain the joys which he Believes are some day sure to be.

We need a few more optimists Of iron hearts and st.u.r.dy wrists; Not optimists who smugly smile And preach that in a little while The clouds will fade before the sun, But cheerful men who'll bear a gun, And hopeful men, of courage stout, Who'll see disaster round about And yet will keep their faith, and fight, And gain the victory for right.

Taking His Place

He's doing double duty now; Time's silver gleams upon his brow, And there are lines upon his face Which only pa.s.sing years can trace.

And yet he's turned back many a page Long written in the book of age, For since their boy has marched away, This kindly father, growing gray, Is doing for the mother true The many things the boy would do.

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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.ser-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.

Oh, child of a year, do you wonder what here upon earth you shall find?

America shows you a people united in purpose and mind; Whatever you bring us of danger, whatever you hold to affright, I pray that we never shall lower our standards of truth and of right.

You find us a people united, full pledged to the work of the world, To banish the despot and tyrant, our banner in battle's unfurled; And here to a world that is bleeding and weary and heartsick you come, Whatever you've brought us of duty--we'll answer the call of your drum.

We may weep in our grief and our sorrows, we may bend 'neath the might of the blow, But never our courage shall falter, and never we'll run from the foe.

We know not how troubled our pathways shall be nor how sorely beset, But I pray we shall cling to our honor as men and never our purpose forget.

Our Duty to Our Flag

Less hate and greed Is what we need And more of service true; More men to love The flag above And keep it first in view.