POET11Y.
MOTHER, COMMAND!
Disce in our hearts we hear our Country's call To rich and poor, whereer our lot be cast To every man and woman of no all The great chance comes at last.
And eagerly we wait the rallying cry, We would be up and striving for the Right, Our foe, that we have sworn shall surely die, Bleed-stained, malignant Might.
Speak then, great Mother! Only tell vs how Each of thy children may best toil for thee.
How soul and brain may serve, or thew may bows To aid thine empery.
To-day we deem each peaceful path we tread, Each unpolluted stream, each lantern tree Is hallowed by the blood of sacred dead is Who fell to hold them free.
And even for us, who cannot take the field.
The dear land we would strive for in her need Should seem, at last, with deeper meaning sealed Our very own indeed.
Mother, command us, then! We each would bring His utmost aid, as strength be more or less; We erase to work as one in stablishing The realm of Righteousness.
And, dying, what happier knowledge could we ask Than this: whatever lowly way we trod.
Life gave no one supreme, ennobling task For Home, for Right—for God?
likessomon 1,1311411..
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