He was cheerful and smiling and clear-eyed and fine
And out of his face golden light seemed to shine.
And I thought as he passed 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, God! 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 circumstance,
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.
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