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Belgium—1914
“MOTHER, the poplars cross the moon; | |
| The road runs on, so white and far, | |
| We shall not reach the city soon: | |
| Oh, tell me where we are!” | |
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| “Have patience, patience, little son, | 5 |
| And we shall find the way again: | |
| (God show me the untraveled one! | |
| God give me rest from men!)” | |
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| “Mother, you did not tell me why | |
| You hurried so to come away. | 10 |
| I saw big soldiers riding by; | |
| I should have liked to stay.” | |
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| “Hush, little man, and I will sing | |
| Just like a soldier, if I can— | |
| They have a song for everything. | 15 |
| Listen, my little man! | |
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| “This is the soldiers’ marching song: | |
| We’ll play this is the village street—” | |
| “Yes, but this road is very long, | |
| And stones have hurt my feet.” | 20 |
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| “Nay, little pilgrim, up with you! | |
| And yonder field shall be the town. | |
| I’ll show you how the soldiers do | |
| Who travel up and down. | |
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| “They march and sing and march again, | 25 |
| Not minding all the stones and dust: | |
| They go, (God grant me rest from men!) | |
| Forward, because they must.” | |
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| “Mother, I want to go to sleep.” | |
| “No, darling! Here is bread to eat! | 30 |
| (O God, if thou couldst let me weep, | |
| Or heal my broken feet!)” | |
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