Who smiles at distant fate,
And waits until it strikes, alas!
Has roused himself too late.
Who thinks the fight will end before
The need of him arrives,
Is lengthening this brutal war
And costing many lives.
For over us that storm shall break
Ere many weeks have fled,
And we shall pay for our mistake
In fields of mangled dead.
Be ready when the foe shall near,
Be there to strike him hard;
Let us, though he be miles from here,
Be standing now on guard.
To-morrow's victories won't be won
By pluck that we display
To-morrow when the foe comes on,
But by our work to-day.
The Boy Enlists
His mother's eyes are saddened, and her cheeks
are stained with tears,
And I'm facing now the struggle that I've
dreaded through the years;
For the boy that was our baby has been changed
into a man.
He's enlisted in the army as a true American.
He held her for a moment in his arms before
he spoke,
And I watched him as he kissed her, and it
seemed to me I'd choke,
For I knew just what was coming, and I knew
just what he'd done!
'Another little mother had a soldier for a son.
When we'd pulled ourselves together, and the
first quick tears had dried,
We could see his eyes were blazing with the fire
of manly pride;
We could see his head was higher than it ever
was before,
For we had a man to cherish, and our baby was
no more.
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