The Good-Bye

In uniform the soldier stood 
Beside his mother, old and grey.

He watched the tears that slowly fell, 
From the eyes that watched him on his way. 

The battlefield now claimed her son, 
Whose heart and love she long had won. 

Oh, cruel thought, to rob that home, 
And cast a shadow round the throne.

Encircled in his mother's arms,
And, pressed towards her dear old face,
He saw the snowflakes in her hair,
And on her brow were lines of care. 

He lifts her hand. It cooled his brow,
When fever's flame had burned its way,
Though temples throbbed, and pain it racked,
That mother's love it never lacked.

It might have done the Kaiser good
If near this parting he had stood, 
And knew that for desire of greed
His act had robbed that home in need.

Humanity! Has he none left?
Why does he leave her heart bereft 
Of joy that shone upon her face
To see her boy at home - his place.

But as they stand in locked embrace, 
A sternness comes into her face.

A scene, he sees of death and blood, 
Of comrades dying in the mud.

And Germany has struck that blow
And mother shall be taught to know 
And rue the day the deed was done,
That struck to earth a British son.

So I must go. My duty's there,
To help my mates their loads to bear.

Our dear old flag, it still shall fly
If we must live or if we die.

But whether life or death is mine, 
And if this earth I must resign,
I will not fail, though short I roam,
To think of love in mother's home.

William John Odgers, House Missionary, Wandearah, South Australia.