We thank Thee for our mothers fair
Who through the sorrows they must bear
Still smile, and give their hearts to woe,
Yet bravely heed the day’s command—­
That mothers, yet to be, may know
A free and glorious motherland.

Oh, God, we thank Thee for the skies
Where our flag now in glory flies! 
We thank Thee that no love of gain
Is leading us, but that we fight
To keep our banner free from stain
And that we die for what is right.

Oh, God, we thank Thee that we may
Lift up our eyes to Thee to-day;
We thank Thee we can face this test
With honor and a spotless name,
And that we serve a world distressed
Unselfishly and free from shame.

A Patriotic Wish

I’d like to be the sort of man the flag could boast about;
I’d like to be the sort of man it cannot live without;
I’d like to be the type of man
That really is American: 
The head-erect and shoulders-square,
Clean-minded fellow, just and fair,
That all men picture when they see
The glorious banner of the free.

    I’d like to be the sort of man the flag now typifies,
    The kind of man we really want the flag to symbolize;
    The loyal brother to a trust,
    The big, unselfish soul and just,
    The friend of every man oppressed,
    The strong support of all that’s best—­
    The sturdy chap the banner’s meant,
    Where’er it flies, to represent.

    I’d like to be the sort of man the flag’s supposed to mean,
    The man that all in fancy see, wherever it is seen;
    The chap that’s ready for a fight
    Whenever there’s a wrong to right,
    The friend in every time of need,
    The doer of the daring deed,
    The clean and generous handed man
    That is a real American.

         A Patriot

It’s funny when a feller wants to do his little bit,
And wants to wear a uniform and lug a soldier’s kit,
And ain’t afraid of submarines nor mines that fill the sea,
They will not let him go along to fight for liberty
They make him stay at home and be his mother’s darling pet,
But you can bet there’ll come a time when they will want me yet.

I want to serve the Stars and Stripes, I want to go and fight,
I want to lick the Kaiser good, and do the job up right. 
I know the way to use a gun and I can dig a trench
And I would like to go and help the English and the French. 
But no, they say, you cannot march away to stirring drums;
Be mother’s angel boy at home; stay there and twirl your thumbs.

I’ve read about the daring boys that fight up in the sky;
It seems to me that that must be a splendid way to die. 
I’d like to drive an aeroplane and prove my courage grim
And get above a German there and drop a bomb on him,
But they won’t let me go along to help the latest drive;
They say my mother needs me here because I’m only five.