soldiers miss.

  Oh, who will tend the roses now and who will sow the seeds?
  And who will do the heavy work the little garden needs?
  And who will tell the lad of mine the things he wants to know,
  And take his hand and lead him round the paths we used to go?
      For it's charge, charge, charge,
      And it's face the foe once more;
      Forget the things you love the most
      And keep your mind on gore.

{46}

FATHER

  Used to wonder just why father
    Never had much time for play,
  Used to wonder why he'd rather
    Work each minute of the day.
  Used to wonder why he never
    Loafed along the road an' shirked;
  Can't recall a time whenever
    Father played while others worked.

  Father didn't dress in fashion,
    Sort of hated clothing new;
  Style with him was not a passion;
    He had other things in view.
  Boys are blind to much that's going
    On about 'em day by day,
  And I had no way of knowing
    What became of father's pay.

  All I knew was when I needed
    Shoes I got 'em on the spot;
  Everything for which I pleaded,
    Somehow, father always got.
  Wondered, season after season,
    Why he never took a rest,
  And that I might be the reason
    Then I never even guessed.

  Father set a store on knowledge;
    If he'd lived to have his way
  He'd have sent me off to college
    And the bills been glad to pay.
  That, I know, was his ambition:
    Now and then he used to say
  He'd have done his earthly mission
    On my graduation day.

  Saw his cheeks were getting paler,
    Didn't understand just why;
  Saw his body growing frailer,
    Then at last I saw him die.
  Rest had come! His tasks were ended,
    Calm was written on his brow;
  Father's life was big and splendid,
    And I understand it now.

{48}

LADDIES

  Show me the boy who never threw
    A stone at someone's cat,
  Or never hurled a snowball swift
    At someone's high silk hat—
  Who never ran away from school,
    To seek the swimming hole,
  Or slyly from a neighbor's yard
    Green apples never stole—

  Show me the boy who never broke
    A pane of window glass,
  Who never disobeyed the sign
    That says: "Keep off the grass."
  Who never did a thousand things,
    That grieve us sore to tell,
  And I'll show you a little boy
    Who must be far from well.

{49}

THE LIVING BEAUTIES

  I never knew, until they went,
  How much their laughter really meant
  I never knew how much the place
  Depended on each little face;
  How barren home could be and drear
  Without its living beauties here.

  I never knew that chairs and books
  Could wear such sad and solemn looks!
  That rooms and halls could be at night
  So still and drained of all delight.
  This home is now but brick and board
  Where bits of furniture are stored.

  I used to think I loved each shelf
  And room for what it was itself.
  And once I thought each picture fine
  Because I proudly called it mine.
  But now I know they mean no more
  Than art works hanging in a store.

  Until they went away to roam
  I never knew what made it home.
  But I have learned that all is base,
  However wonderful the place
  And decked with costly treasures, rare,
  Unless the living joys are there.

{50}

AT BREAKFAST TIME

  My Pa he eats his breakfast in a funny sort of way:
  We hardly ever see him at the first meal of the day.
  Ma puts his food before him and he settles in his place
  An' then he props the paper up and we can't see his face;
  We hear him blow his coffee and we hear him chew his toast,
  But it's for the morning paper that he seems to care the most.

  Ma says that little children mighty grateful ought to be
  To the folks that fixed the evening as the proper time for tea.
  She says if meals were only served to people once a day,
  An' that was in the morning just before Pa goes away,
  We'd never know how father looked when he was in his place,
  Coz he'd always have the morning paper stuck before his face.

  He drinks his coffee steamin' hot, an' passes Ma his cup
  To have it filled a second time, an' never once looks up.
  He never has a word to say, but just sits there an' reads,
  An' when she sees his hand stuck out Ma gives him what he needs.
  She guesses what it is he wants, coz it's no use to ask:
  Pa's got to read his paper an' sometimes that's quite a task.

  One morning we had breakfast an' his features we could see,
  But his face was long an' solemn an' he didn't speak to me,
  An' we couldn't get him laughin' an' we couldn't make him smile,
  An' he said the toast was soggy an' the coffee simply vile.
  Then Ma said: "What's the matter? Why are you so cross an' glum?"
  An' Pa 'most took her head off coz the paper didn't come.

{52}

CAN'T

  Can't is the worst word that's written or spoken;
    Doing more harm here than slander and lies;
  On it is many a strong spirit broken,
    And with it many a good purpose dies.
  It springs from the lips of the thoughtless each morning
    And robs us of courage we need through the day:
  It rings in our ears like a timely-sent warning
    And laughs when we falter and fall by the way.

  Can't is the father of feeble endeavor,
    The parent of terror and half-hearted work;
  It weakens the efforts of artisans clever,
    And makes of the toiler an indolent shirk.
  It poisons the soul of the man with a vision,
    It stifles in infancy many a plan;
  It greets honest toiling with open derision
    And mocks at the hopes and the dreams of a man.

  Can't is a word none should speak without blushing;
    To utter it should be a symbol of shame;
  Ambition and courage it daily is crushing;
    It blights a man's purpose and shortens his aim.
  Despise it with all of your hatred of error;
    Refuse it the lodgment it seeks in your brain;
  Arm against it as a creature of terror,
    And all that you dream of you some day shall gain.

  Can't is the word that is foe to ambition,
    An enemy ambushed to shatter your will;
  Its prey is forever the man with a mission
    And bows but to courage and patience and skill.
  Hate it, with hatred that's deep and undying,
    For once it is welcomed 'twill break any man;
  Whatever the goal you are seeking, keep trying
    And