And cornstalks bend with heavy golden loads,
  For rains have blessed the land the summer long. 
  Now children trip on winding trails from school;
  They swing in rhythmic time along the roads;
  A hungry, hearty crowd, suntanned and strong. 
  This glorious fall day in evening cool.

ALL HAIL RED CROSS

  All hail Red Cross!  White robes of light, all hail! 
  On brave and noble brows the symbol shines. 
  A cry for help is never called in vain,
  For these courageous ones go everywhere,
  On sea or land, in sun and stormy sky. 
  They face all dangers—­carry succor forth
  To save their fellowmen—­with speed and skill
  The aid goes out to rescue friend and foe. 
  They know no enemy but heed each call. 
  A line is thrown to stranded waif or man. 
  In flood they rush like water down the slope
  To bring relief to those who toss in waves. 
  They care for mothers left to starve, alone. 
  In pestilence, they labor long to soothe
  The fevered brow and ease the gnawing pain
  With medicine and shelter, food and clothes. 
  In war the wound is dressed and duly nursed
  With gentle supple hands—­with nourishment
  For mind and body.  Cross of red, all hail! 
  They serve for us most willingly and well. 
  Then chide themselves when they have come too late! 
  Like mothers when their sons have fallen short;
  In early dawn and through the night they toil. 
  O God do bless this noble work of love;
  Let’s give and further this most worthy cause. 
  All hail Red Cross!  White robes of hope, all hail!

OUR MORNING PRAYER

  God our Father give us strength
  In these days of selfish strife,
  Let us smile amid the pain,
  Now to meet the care of life
  In the sunshine and in rain.

SOLDIER TO HIS MOTHER

  Remembering those happy days of youth—­
  The earth was filled with gladness then,
  And you, dear Mother, taught me love and truth,
  Taught me to seek the best in men.

  With heart full of faith and noble thought
  To bear my load and do good deeds. 
  And cherish worthy things, the hope not bought,
  With visions for the living needs.

  You said be honest with my God and soul,
  Devoted to my land and home,
  And all that men hold dear.  In loyalty
  Respect and prize the fertile loam.

  Today my country calls, she needs her son
  To fight the Japs and Hitler too. 
  No coming back until the job is done. 
  This is as honest men would do.

IN THE STORM

  Hear the gale roaring through the woods! 
    Trees bend and snap and sway;
    They race and break on this dark day. 
  If I could fashion some sturdy hoods
    To hold the storm at bay,
    Then trim and straight would all trees stay. 
  But great trees knotted by winds’ moods,
    Like men who face their care,
  Stand scarred yet stanch and bravely there.