<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">To My Son</h1><p class="inline-note" xmlns:html="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40">A poem, anonymous, sent to the Chicago Evening Post by one whose son's regiment was leaving for France.</p><div class="stanza"><p class="line">MY son, at last the fateful day has come</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">For us to part. The hours have nearly run.</p><p class="line">May God return you safe to land and home;</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Yet, what God wills, so may His will be done.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Draw tight the belt about your slender frame;</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Flash blue your eyes! Hold high your proud young head!</p><p class="line">Today you march in Liberty's fair name,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">To save the line enriched by France's dead!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">I would not it were otherwise. And yet</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">'Tis hard to speed your marching forth, my son!</p><p class="line">'Tis doubly hard to live without regret</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">For love unsaid, and kindnesses undone.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">But would the chance were mine with you to stand</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Upon those shores and see our flag unfurled! </p><p class="line">To fight on France's brave, unconquered land</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">With Liberty's great sword for all the world!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Beyond the waves, my son, the siren calls,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">The sky is black and Fastnet lies abreast;</p><p class="line">A signal rocket flings its stars and falls</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Across the night to welcome England's guest.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">When mid the scud you see the Cornish lights,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">And through the mist you hear faint Devon chimes, </p><p class="line">I hank God for memories of those other nights</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">And days on other ships in happier times.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Perhaps you'll stand within the pillared nave</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">And aisles where colored sundust falls, and see </p><p class="line">Old Canterbury Church where Becket gave</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">His life's best blood for England's liberty!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Some night you'll walk, perhaps, on Salisbury plain </p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Above Stonehenge the Druid's stars still sleep, </p><p class="line">And on the turf within the circled fane</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Beneath the autumn moon still lie the sheep.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">And if you march beside some Kentish hedge,</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">And blackberries hang thick clustered o'er the ways,</p><p class="line">Hick down a branch! Rest by the road's brown edge;</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Eat! Nor forget our last vacation days!</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">And then the trench in battle-scarred Lorraine;</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">The town half burned but held in spite of hell;</p><p class="line">The bridge twice taken, lost, and won again;</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">The cratered glacis ripped with mine and shell.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">The leafless trees, bare-branched in spite of June;</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">The sodden road, the desolated plain;</p><p class="line">The mateless birds, the season out of tune;</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Fair France, at bay, is calling through her pain.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">Oh, son! My son! God keep you safe and free</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">Our flag and you! But if the hour must come</p><p class="line">To choose at last 'twixt self and liberty</p><p class="line" style="text-indent:5%">We'll close our eyes! So let God's will be done! </p></div></body></html> · Great War