The Great War

from More Songs By the Fighting Men, an electronic edition

On a Girl killed by German Shrapnel

IT is not much: one child the less to sing

Her passage through the hours;

One girl the less to greet the coming spring.

And pluck the summer's flow'rs.

It is not much: one little coffin made

And one more little shroud.

One hush the more within the room's dark shade.

One less word said aloud.

It is not much: one prayer the less to God,

From Whom all prayers have birth.

One scar the more across the fresh green sod.

One shovel more of earth.

It is not much: yet could it have been more?

God thinks the same of such.

As of the proudest hero killed in war:—

Who says it is not much?

France, July, 1917.