The Mother of a Soldier 

By Folger McKinsey 

The mother of a soldier --hats off to her, I say!
The mother of a soldier who has gone to face the fray;
She gave him to her country with a blessing on his head---
She found his name this morning in the long list of the dead:
"Killed -- Sergeant Thomas Watkins, while leading on the rest,
A Bible in his pocket and a portrait on his breast!"
The mother of a soldier -- she gave him to her land;
She saw him on the transport as he waved his sun-browned hand;
She kissed him through the teardrops and she told him to be brave;
Her prayers went night and morning with her boy upon the wave.

The mother of a soldier -- her comfort and her joy,
She gave her dearest treasure when she gave her only boy;
She saw the banners waving, she heard the people cheer;
She clasped her hands and bravely looked away to hide a tear. 
The mother of a soldier --ah! cheer the hero deed,
And cheer the brave who battle 'neath the banner of their creed;
But don't forget the mothers, through all the lonely years
That fight the bravest battles on the sunless field of tears.
Nay, don't forget the mothers -- the mothers of our men,
Who see them go and never know that they'll come back again;
That give them to their country, to battle and to die, 
Because the bugles call them and the starry banners fly.

The mother of a soldier -- hats off to her, I say!
Whose head is bowed in sorrow with its tender locks of gray.
She gave without regretting, though her old heart sorely bled
When she found his name this morning in the long list of the dead:
"Killed -- Sergeant Thomas Watkins, while leading on the rest,
His dear old mother's portrait clasped upon his hero breast!" 

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