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They Shall Not Pass
The caves described in the Arabian Nights are not more wond...

Killing The Soul
As the centuries pass, the greatest glory of any nation, it...

Cardinal Mercier
He is an old man, nearly seventy, with thin, grayish-white ...

Why We Fight Germany
Because of Belgium, invaded, outraged, enslaved, impoverish...

Birdmen
Although I am an American, I am still in the French aviatio...

When Germany Lost The War
No man knows exactly when and where the three and twenty al...

War Dogs
The story of "The Animals Going to War" tells how, one by o...

Let Us Save The Kiddies
At 12:20 noon, on Saturday, May 1, 1915, there steamed out ...

The Charge Of The Black Watch And The Scots Greys
Sometimes a retreat is in reality a great victory. It has b...

The World War
The story of the World War is the story of the control of t...

The Melting Pot
America has been called the "crucible" or the "melting pot"...

Daring The Undarable
We are thirty in the hands of Fate And thirty-one wi...

What One American Did
If a person had been standing one night beside the railroad...

The Hun Target The Red Cross
All the civilized nations of the world have agreed to respe...

The Battles Of The Marne
At Marathon (490 B.C.) and at Salamis (480 B.C.) the Greeks...

Nations And The Moral Law
I believe there is no permanent greatness to a nation excep...

The Case Of Serbia
But Belgium is not the only little nation that has been att...

Can War Ever Be Right?
After England had entered the war against the Central Power...

Bacilli And Bullets
Sir William Osler, one of the greatest medical men in the w...

The Mexican Plot
It is true that Germany does not know the meaning of honest...



Son






He hurried away, young heart of joy, under our Devon sky!
And I watched him go, my beautiful boy, and a weary woman was I.
For my hair is gray, and his was gold; he'd the best of his life
to live;
And I'd loved him so, and I'm old, I'm old; and he's all I had to
give.

Ah, yes, he was proud and swift and gay, but oh, how my eyes were
dim!
With the sun in his heart he went away, but he took the sun with
him.
For look! How the leaves are falling now, and the winter won't be
long....
Oh, boy, my boy with the sunny brow, and the lips of love and of
song!

How we used to sit at the day's sweet end, we two by the
fire-light's gleam,
And we'd drift to the Valley of Let's Pretend, on the beautiful
River of Dream.
Oh, dear little heart! All wealth untold would I gladly, gladly pay
Could I just for a moment closely hold that golden head to my gray.

For I gaze in the fire, and I'm seeing there a child, and he waves
to me;
And I run and I hold him up in the air, and he laughs and shouts
with glee;
A little bundle of love and mirth, crying: "Come, Mumsie dear!"
Ah, me! If he called from the ends of the earth I know that my
heart would hear.

* * * * *

Yet the thought comes thrilling through all my pain: how worthier
could he die?
Yea, a loss like that is a glorious gain, and pitiful proud am I.
For Peace must be bought with blood and tears, and the boys of our
hearts must pay;
And so in our joy of the after-years, let us bless them every day.

And though I know there's a hasty grave with a poor little cross
at its head,
And the gold of his youth he so gladly gave, yet to me he'll never
be dead.
And the sun in my Devon lane will be gay, and my boy will be with
me still,
So I'm finding the heart to smile and say: "Oh God, if it be
Thy Will!"

ROBERT W. SERVICE.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] COPYRIGHT BY BARSE AND HOPKINS.





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