• Author: Masson, Thomas L.
• Editor:
• Newspaper: The Umpire volume V
• Page Number:
• Date: 4 10 1918
• Tags:
• poetry

THE RED CROSS

Out where the line of battle cleaves The horizon of woe, And sightless warriors clutch the leaves, The Red Croos nurses go. In where the cots of agony Mark death’s unmeasured tide— Bear up the battle’s harvestry— The Red Cross nurses glide.

Look! Where the hell of steel has torn Its way through slumbering earth, The orphaned urchins kneel, forlorn, And wander at their birth Until, about them, calm and wise, With smile and guiding hand, God looking through their gentle eyes, The Red Cross nurses stand.

Here, in our sheltered homes we sit, Remote from war’s red sweep, Doing half-heartedly our bit, Sleeping our painless sleep. See! Where the Red Cross flag’s unrolled With red, and white, and blue; Let us pour out our treasured gold To guide the Red Cross true.

—Thomas L. Masson.