THE ONLY SON

Grey River Argus, 23 October 1915, Page 8

THE ONLY SON

[Among recent war pomes one entitl ed "The Only Son" published in the "Spectator," over initials only, has distinction of style, and striks a virile note.] Who'll love and comfort you, mother of mine, Should I- never return and be killed in the war? If you've died like a man, as your father before, Then you'll live in my heart, son of mine. Who'll sing the hymn to me, mother of mine? The shipwrights have driven the rivets to seal , A wonderful coffin of armour plate steel, l Your shell will be strong, son of mine. A white-surpliced choir of seabiras overhead Will hover and sing for you hymns for the dead, Your choir will sing well, son of mine. Who'll drag the. hearse for me mother of mine? Near ten thousand horses will drive in your team, \ For the boilers will quiver with well- ! harnessed steam, Your team will be strong son of mine. Who'll toll the bell for me, mother of mine? An invisible hand will be tolling the bell; As your sinking ship rocking in the long oily swell, Your bell will be rung son of mjne. • Who'll dig my grave for me, mother of mine? Youf grave will be dug in the soft, | shingly sand By the waves that are moved by the silver moon's hand, Your grave will be deep, son of mine. Who '11 place the wreaths for me, mother of mine? The shells and sea-plants of the cold ocean bed Will fashion a garland to cover your head, Your wreaths will be there, son of mine? Who'll weep and mourn for me mother of mine? No one will mourn for you, no one will weep, When the waves of the ocean have rocked you to sleep, I'll be proud that you died, son of mine.