Читать книгу Great Poems of the World War - William Dunseath Eaton - Страница 15

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in The Indianapolis News

Permission to reproduce in this book

THE Kid has gone to the Colors

And we don’t know what to say;

The Kid we have loved and cuddled

Stepped out for the Flag today.

We thought him a child, a baby,

With never a care at all,

But his country called him man-size

And the Kid has heard the call.

He paused to watch the recruiting

Where, fired by the fife and drum,

He bowed his head to Old Glory

And thought that it whispered: “Come!”

The Kid, not being a slacker,

Stood forth with patriot-joy

To add his name to the roster—

And God, we’re proud of the boy!

The Kid has gone to the Colors;

It seems but a little while

Since he drilled a schoolboy army

In a truly martial style.

But now he’s a man, a soldier,

And we lend him listening ear,

For his heart is a heart all loyal,

Unscourged by the curse of fear.

His dad, when he told him, shuddered,

His mother—God bless her!—cried;

Yet, blest with a mother-nature, She wept with a mother-pride. But he whose old shoulders straightened Was Granddad—for memory ran To years when he, too, a youngster, Was changed by the Flag to a man!