The Great War

from Poems of the Great War, an electronic edition

The Mother

Out of the bitter, the sweet;

Out of the pain, the joy;

Out of the mists, the morning star;

Out of my travail, my boy.

Out of old flesh, new flesh;

Out of old bone, new bone;

Out of my side, my treasure and pride;

My breast his earliest throne.

Stiff in the trenches, and stark;

Dead 'ere the battle was won;

For that which is Right, for Love and Light,

Freely I gave my son.

After the bitter, the sweet;

After the pain, the joy --

I will not falter, nor flinch, nor faint;

Proudly I give my boy.