Aye, we will follow the Flag
      Into benighted lands,
    Brave in the faith for which,
      Proudly, our banner stands. 
    Life for her life we’ll pay,
      Blood for her blood we’ll give,
    Fighting, but not to kill,
      Save that the best shall live. 
    But, when the cannon’s roar
      Dies in a hymn of peace,
    Justice and truth must reign,
      Power of the brute must cease.

    Aye, we will follow the Flag,
      Gladly her work we’ll do,
    Banishing wrongs of old,
      Founding the truth anew. 
    What though our guns must speak,
      What though brave men must die,
    Ages of truth to come
      All this shall justify. 
    Men in the charms of peace,
      Basking in Freedom’s sun,
    Some day shall bless our Flag
      After our work is done.

    Aye, we will follow the Flag
      Wherever she goes,
    Into the tropic sun,
      Into the northern snows. 
    Fearlessly, on we’ll go
      Into the cruel strife,
    Gladly the few shall die,
      Winning for many, life. 
    Tyranny’s wrongs must cease,
      Brutes must no longer brag,
    This is our work on earth,
      So we will follow the Flag.

         We’ve Had a Letter From the Boy

We’ve had a letter from the boy,
And oh, the gladness and the joy
It brought to us!  We read it o’er
I’d say a dozen times or more. 
We laughed until the teardrops fell
At all the fun he had to tell. 
He’s in the navy, wearing blue,
And everything is all so new
That he can see in youthful style
The funny things to make us smile.

    He’s working hard!  Between the lines
    We gather that.  The brass he shines
    Without complaining, and the food
    He gets to eat is very crude. 
    And yet he laughs at all his chores. 
    He says the maid who scrubs our floors
    Will have to quit when he returns
    Unless a better way she learns. 
    “I’ve got it on the fairer sex,”
    Says he, “since I am swabbing decks.”

    “A sailor’s life, dear Mom,” writes he,
    “Is not the life you picked for me. 
    And yet I’m getting fat and strong
    And learning as I go along
    That any life a man can find
    Is apt to grow to be a grind
    Unless a fellow has the wit
    To see the brighter side of it. 
    Don’t worry for your sailor son;
    He sleeps well when his work is done.”

    We’ve had a letter from the boy,
    And oh, the gladness and the joy
    It brought to us!  ’Twas good to know
    That he is facing duty so. 
    Between the lines that he had penned
    His mother’s bitter fears to end,
    I saw his manhood glowing bright,
    And now I know his heart is right. 
    Behind the laughter I could see
    My boy’s the man I’d hoped he’d be.