ighty land.
Not somewhere in America, but everywhere to-day,
For justice and for liberty all free men work
and pray.

The Things That Make a Soldier Great

The things that make a soldier great and send him out to die,
To face the flaming cannon's mouth, nor ever question why,
Are lilacs by a little porch, the row of tulips red,
The peonies and pansies, too, the old petunia bed,
The grass plot where his children play, the roses on the wall:
'Tis these that make a soldier great. He's fighting for them all.

'Tis not the pomp and pride of kings that make a soldier brave;
'Tis not allegiance to the flag that over him may wave;
For soldiers never fight so well on land or on the foam
As when behind the cause they see the little place called home.
Endanger but that humble street whereon his children run--
You make a soldier of the man who never bore a gun.

What is it through the battle smoke the valiant soldier sees?
The little garden far away, the budding apple trees,
The little patch of ground back there, the children at their play,
Perhaps a tiny mound behind the simple church of gray.
The golden thread of courage isn't linked to castle dome
But to the spot, where'er it be--the humble spot called home.

And now the lilacs bud again and all is lovely there,
And homesick soldiers far away know spring is in the air;
The tulips come to bloom again, the grass once more is green,
And every man can see the spot where all his joys have been.
He sees his children smile at him, he hears the bugle call,
And only death can stop him now--he's fighting for them all.

The Flag

We never knew how much the Flag
Could mean, until he went away,
We used to boast of it and brag,
As something of a by-gone day;
But now the Flag can start our tears
In moments of our greatest joy,
Old Glory in the sky appears
The symbol of our little boy.

We knew that sometimes people wept
To see the Flag go waving by,
But never guessed the griefs they kept--
We never understood just why.
But now our eyes grow quickly dim,
Our voices choke with sobs to-day;
The Flag is telling us of him,
Our little boy who's gone away.

We never knew the Flag could be
So much a part of human life,
We thought it beautiful to see