Patriotic pieces from the Great War. Edna D. Jones

Fair-fortuned years before them,

      ⁠Alas! but yesterday.

       Divine with sudden splendor

      ⁠—Oh how our eyes were blind!—

       In careless self-surrender

      ⁠They battle for mankind.

       Soldiers of Freedom! Gleaming

      ⁠And golden they depart,

       Transfigured by the dreaming

      ⁠Of boyhood's hidden heart.

       Her lovers they confess them

      ⁠And, rushing on her foes,

       Toss her their youth—God bless them!—

      ⁠As lightly as a rose.

      —Katharine Lee Bates

      MY SAILOR BOY

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      MY SAILOR BOY

      Used by permission of the author

      I did not ask for strength to let him go

      ⁠(Although he seemed so young—still but a child);

       I did not pray for courage—God, you know—

      ⁠When down the silver street, blue clad, they filed.

       More than my life went with them through the snow,

      ⁠And yet, dear God—you saw—I smiled—I smiled.

       But oh! how shall I pass each day his door

      ⁠Where still the shadow of his presence lingers?

       How touch the things he loved to touch,

      ⁠Still warm and vibrant from his dear brown fingers?

       How tread the silent floors his glad feet trod,

      ⁠Day after day—unless you help me—God!

      —Viola Brothers Shore

      THE QUARTERMASTER CORPS

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      THE QUARTERMASTER CORPS

      The Quartermaster Corps

       Is a non-combatin' crowd,

       An' it isn't much excitin'

       Fer th' man who likes it loud;

       But it's got its own hard work t' do,

       An' they'd all be on th' floor

       If it wasn't for the non-combatin'

       Quartermaster Corps.

       The Quartermaster Corps

       Sheds no glory or renown,

       But it's got the grub that keeps you

       Comin' back when you are down;

       An' the Infantree an' Cavalree

       Would all be on the floor

       If it wasn't fer the non-combatin'

       Quartermaster Corps.

       The Quartermaster Corps

       Is ol' Jimmy-on-the-Spot

       When it comes to gettin' chow

       To th' line where things are hot;

       Why, the boys up in the trenches

       Would all be on the floor

       If it wasn't fer the non-combatin'

       Quartermaster Corps.

      ​The Quartermaster Corps

       Don't use bayonets or guns,

       But they do a mighty lot o' work

       To help clean up th' Huns;

       So here's something to remember—

       You might all be on the floor

       If it wasn't fer the non-combatin'

       Quartermaster Corps!

      —William C. Pryor, Sgt., Q.M.C.

      IT IS WELL WITH THE CHILD

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      IT IS WELL WITH THE CHILD

      By permission of the author and the publishers, the Atlantic Monthly Company, Boston

      The word has come—On the field of battle, dead.

       Sorrow is mine but there is no more dread.

       I am his mother. See, I do not say,

       'I was;' he is, not was, my son. Today

       He rests, is safe, is well; he is at ease

       From pain, cold, thirst, and fever of disease,

       And horror of red tasks undone or done.

       Now he has dropped the load he bore, my son,

       And now my heart is lightened of all fears,

       Sorrow is mine and streams of lonely tears,

       But not too heavy for the carrying is

       The burden that is only mine, not his.

       At eventide I may lay down my head,

       Not wondering upon what dreadful bed

       Perchance—nay, all but certainly—he lies;

       And with the morn I may in turn arise,

       Glad of the light, of sleep, of food, now he

       Is where sweet waters and green meadows be

       And golden apples. How it was he died

       I know not, but my heart is satisfied:

       Never again of all my days shall one

       Bring anguish for the anguish of my son.

      ​Sorrow is mine but there is no more dread.

       The word has come—On the field of battle, dead.

      —Mrs. Schuyler Van Rensselaer

      THE PRESIDENT'S MESSAGE TO THE NATIONAL ARMY

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      THE PRESIDENT'S MESSAGE TO THE NATIONAL ARMY

      Washington, D. C., September 3, 1917

      To the Soldiers of the National Army:

      You are undertaking a great duty. The heart of the whole country is with you.

      Everything that you do will be watched with the deepest interest and with the deepest solicitude, not only by those who are near and dear to you, but by the whole nation besides. For this great war draws us all together, makes us all comrades and brothers, as all true Americans felt themselves to be when we first made good our national independence.

      The eyes of all the world will be upon you, because you are in some special sense the soldiers of freedom. Let it be your pride, therefore, to show all men everywhere not only what good soldiers you are, but also what good men you are, keeping yourselves fit and straight in everything and pure and clean through and