We must guard ourselves lest we follow Rome.
We must leave our children the finer things.
We must teach them love of the spot called home
And the lasting joy that a purpose brings.
For vain are our Flag and our battles won,
And vain are our lands and our stores of gold,
If our children feel that life's work is done.
We must give them a high ideal to hold.
Rebellion
"My Crown Prince was fine and fair," a sorrowful
father said,
"But he marched away with his regiment and
they tell me that he's dead!
'We all must go,' he whispered low, 'We must
fight for the Fatherland.'
Now the heart of me's torn with the grief I
know, and I cannot understand,
For none of the Kaiser's princes lie out there
where my soldier sleeps;
Here's a land where grief is the common lot, but
never the Kaiser weeps.
"My Crown Prince was a kindly prince, and his
eyes were gentle, too,
And glad were the days of his youth to me when
his wonderful smile I knew.
Then the Kaiser flattered and spoke him well,
and he sent him out to die,
But his Crown Prince hasn't felt one hurt and
the heart of me questions why?
He talks of war in his regal way and he boasts
of his strength to strike,
But his boys all live and he doesn't know what
the sting of a bullet's like.
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