in The Sovereign Visitor
SAY, pa! What is a service flag?
I see them everywhere.
There’s little stars sewed on them;
What are they doing there?
Sometimes there’s lots of little stars,
And sometimes just a few.
Poor Widow Jones has only one—
I saw her crying, too.
My darling boy, those little stars
Upon a field of white,
Are emblems of our glorious boys
Enrolling for the right.
The border, as you see, is red,
Which represents their blood;
The stars are blue, the heavenly hue;
The white is always good.
Each star you see means some brave boy
Has left his hearth and home
And gone to fight for Freedom’s cause
Wherever he may roam.
So when you see a lot of stars
Lift up your heart with joy,
And when you see a single one
Pray for some mother’s boy.
They go away, those gallant lads,
Across the wreck-strewn sea;
They go to pledge their country’s faith
For God and liberty.
The Stars and Stripes they bear aloft
To join the British flag,
And, with the colors of brave France,
They mean to end “Der Tag.”
And soon, my boy, that service flag,
Born in the nation’s heart,
Will show the world that, when unfurled,
We proudly take our part.
“HEARTS ARE TOUCHING”
POEMS need not be rhymed, nor wrought in verses. This brave and touching one occurred in a letter written by a French schoolgirl:
“It was only a little river; almost a brook; it was called the Yser. One could talk from one side to the other without raising one’s voice, and the birds could fly over it with one sweep of their wings. And on the two banks there were millions of men, the one toward the other, eye to eye. But the distance which separated them was greater than the stars in the sky; it was the distance which separates right from injustice.
“The ocean is so vast that the sea gulls do not dare to cross it. During seven days and seven nights the great steamships of America, going at full speed, drive through the deep waters before the lighthouses of France come into view; but from one side to the other, hearts are touching.”