• Author: Unknown
• Editor: B-8266
• Newspaper: The Umpire volume V
• Page Number:
• Date: 8 14 1918
• Tags:
• poetry
• patriotism

LINES TO SOME YOUTHFUL SINGERS OF ST. JOHN'S ASYLUM CHOIR AUGUST, 4, 1918

O thought that sets the pulse a thrill; When, the years of penance done, We to God’s free air have won, Free as any mountain rill, Leaping, dancing in the sun; Careless of the race that’s run; Glad of the new task begun, We shall hear your voices still.

Mary, make us valiant soldiers, Help us in the daily fight; In our struggles with the tempter, Help us to discern the right. To the happy days of childhood, We can ne’er win back again; They are lost and gone forever, Mary help us to be men.

Tho our woe were like to Lears; And we hear each childish note, With a tightening on the throat, For the burden of the years; Yet like dancing, golden mote, In a sun-beam all a-float; Like a many coloured coat, So the song uplifts and cheers.

In your hands, O Young America, Lies the future of the State: Yours to make it loved of freemen, Yours to make it truly great. In your hearts O Young America, Lies your future, hidden deep; In your choosing, O remember, As ye sow, so shall ye reap.