Have you kept him, gentle mother? Has he lost his old-time cheer?
Is he silent, sad and sullen? Are his eyes no longer clear?
Is he growing weak and flabby who but yesterday was strong?
Then a secret grief he's nursing and I'll tell you what is wrong.
All his comrades have departed on their country's noblest work,
And he hungers to be with them--it is not his wish to shirk.
Fly a Clean Flag
This I heard the Old Flag say
As I passed it yesterday:
"Months ago your friendly hands
Fastened me on slender strands
And with patriotic love
Placed me here to wave above
You and yours. I heard you say
On that long departed day:
'Flag of all that's true and fine,
Wave above this house of mine;
Be the first at break of day
And the last at night to say
To the world this word of cheer:
Loyalty abideth here.'
"Here on every wind that's blown,
O'er your" portal I have flown;
Rain and snow have battered me,
Storms at night have tattered me;
Dust of street and chimney stack
Day by day have stained me black,
And I've watched you passing there,
Wondering how much you care.
Have you noticed that your flag,
Is to-day a wind-blown rag?
Has your love so careless grown
By the long neglect you've shown
That you never raise your eye
To the symbol that you fly?"
"Flag, on which no stain has been,
'Tis my sin that you're unclean,"
Then I answered in my shame.
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