Exempt

They have said you needn’t go to the front to face the foe;
They have left you with jour women and your children safe at home;
They have spared you from the crash of the murderous guns that flash
And the horrors and the madness and the death across the foam. 
But it’s your fight, just the same, and your country still must claim
The splendor of your manhood and the best that you can do;
In a thousand different ways through the dark and troubled days,
You must stand behind the nation that has been so good to you.

    You’re exempt from shot and shell, from the havoc and the hell
      That have robbed the world of gladness; you have missed the sterner fate
    Of the brave young men and fine, that are falling into line,
      You may stay among your children who are swinging on the gate. 
    But you’re not exempt from love of the Flag that flies above,
      You’ve a greater obligation to your country to be true;
    You must work from day to day in a bigger, better way
      For the glory of the nation that has been so good to you.

    You are not exempt from trial, from long days of self-denial,
      From devotion to your homeland and from courage in the test. 
    You are not exempt from giving to your country’s needs and living
      As a citizen and soldier—­an example of the best. 
    You’ve a harder task before you than the boys who’re fighting for you,
      You must match their splendid courage and devotion through and through;
    You must prove by fine endeavor, and by standing constant ever
      That you’re worthy of the country that has been so good to you.

         Duty

We know not where the path may lead nor what the end may be,
The clouds are dark above us now, the future none can see,
And yet when all the storms have passed, and cannons cease to roar,
We shall be prouder of our flag than we have been before.

We could not longer idle stay, spectators of a wrong,
The weak were crying out for help against oppression strong;
And though we pray we may be spared the bitterness of strife,
’Twere better that we die than live the coward’s feeble life.

    We could not longer silent sit, our glory at an end,
    And blind ourselves unto the wrongs committed by a friend;
    We must be tolerant with all, yet in these days of hate,
    Some things have happened that it would be shame to tolerate.

    And now we stand before the world, erect and calm and grave,
    And speak the words that decency must rule the land and wave;
    Into the chaos of despair we fling ourselves to-day
    As guardians of a precious trust hate must not sweep away.

We must rejoice, if we are men, not weak and soft of heart
That we have heeded duty’s call, and taken up our part. 
And when at last sweet peace shall come, and all the strife is o’er,
We shall be prouder of our flag than we have been before,