RECRUITING SONG.

Taranaki Herald, Volume LXIII, Issue 144842, 20 November 1915, Page 7

RECRUITING SONG.

England, ray forefathers’ mother, My mother, and grandmother, too, The wild waves between us can’t smother The call which is coming from you 1 The wind hurls it over tho ocean, it touches my heart, it stirs My pulse with a fevered motion, Draws tears, and my eyesight blurs. And these are the words you ore saying In your well-loved voice, and strong, And wonderful stress you are laying On the lines of the sweet old song: “Arise, for the day is passing, And you lie dreaming on; Others have buckled their armour And forth to the fight havo gone. A place in the ranks awaits you, Each man has his part to play— The past and the future are nothing In the face of the stern to-day!” Oh, Mother, your call is heeded, Each son for you takes his place; He knows for your welfare he’s needed, And he’s ready his danger to face. But, Mother, 1 cannot answer By placing my life at your hand, For', England, T am a. woman, And cannot understand! But I give you my life—it is yours To use or to fling away; For I long to help in the cause Which strives to keep evil at bay. Ro now I am waiting in patience For the time when my bolt shall bo hurled On the wrong, with those of tho nations Who are fighting to save tho world. -CHARLOTTE REEVE.