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Show TO A SOLDIER BOY Dear soldier boy, whoever you are, Whose soles these socks may touch, May you find in the socks Two comfortable spots To gladden your feet when they're cold Dear soldier boy, a mother at home Has knit these socks for you May they comfort two feet That will never retreat From the path of duty and right. Dear soldier boy, when you wear these socks. And take a thought of home, May they help you to stand With our dear Uncle Sam For liberty, justice, and truth. Dear soldier boy, if you're only true To country, God, and man, Then no sock ever knit By woman is too fit To shelter your feet from the cold. Dear soldier boy, while serving your call. Should sin ever give you a chase, May these socks irritate, 'Till your feet really ache To speed you away from her snare. Dear soldier boy, our great U. S. A. Is in the balance now, She is there to be weighed And show what she's made In the scale of human progress. Dear soldier boy, it is not a price In money, in socks or in men, That can win the great war It has gone much too far If that is the most we can give. Dear soldier boy, It is something more The scales of justice ask, 'Tis the will and the might To stand firm for right, And fight for it to the last ditch: Dear soldier boy, if sorrow and tears. And blood, and men, and guns. Could alone cheek the war And bring Bethlehem's star, Should it not be shining today? Dear soldier boy, in union there's strength, And safety for the Just; But no union can stand If her sons give the hand Of fellowship to vice and sin. Dear soldier boy, the mothers at home Have anxious thoughts for you, "Where is my boy tonight? "Is his conduct aright?" Is the burden of many sighs. Does he feel that to honor the flag, Is more than the shouldering of arms? Does he know, in the strife. That each day of his life, Is the very life that he gives? To his country for her glory's sake. Or gives it to her shame, By the life that he leads, In his thoughts and his deeds. On the field where Old Glory waves. If a life of sin is what ho gives, He gives a traitor's share; And had better he dead Than that it should be said That his life to his flag was a stain. Dear soldier boy, may the mother's hands I Not knit the socks in vain, 'Tis for human relief That we knit in belief. That our boys are Yankees indeed, O soldier boy, whoever you are, God grant that you'll be pure, And your morals be high As the flag In the sky. That tremblingly whispers your name! MRS. L1LLIE RNGLE Huntington, Utah, February 22, 1918. |