ANY SOLDIER SON TO HIS MOTHER.
If 1 am taken from this patchwork life By some swift outburst of an unseen arm — The death tiiat strikes in\ comrades day anil night I pray you make of it no cause of tears, I Ih*r you grieve not for me overmuch. And for your comfort 1 would pen this thought: The joy you had of me in childhood's days \\ hen in vour arms I played or cried or prayed (Those soft, warm arms! Can you or 1 forget?) Will still remain with you when I am gone. It is so real now, that memory; Not death itself can rob you of your child. The boy 1 was, the man I grew to be, Despite the mother's tender hopes and fears, How distant, how detached and cold they seem. And so, sweet mother, here I stand to meet Mv fate, thi> night and any night ; but still \our child, imperishable whilst you breathe; A* in the cradle, *0 until the end. —N. G. 11. in “London Spectator.”
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Bibliographic details
White Ribbon, Volume 24, Issue 286, 19 April 1919, Page 10
Word Count
174ANY SOLDIER SON TO HIS MOTHER. White Ribbon, Volume 24, Issue 286, 19 April 1919, Page 10
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