For the army is a school in which the miser becomes generous, and
the generous prodigal; miserly soldiers are read more

For the army is a school in which the miser becomes generous, and
the generous prodigal; miserly soldiers are like monsters, but
very rarely seen.

You led our sons across the haunted flood,
Into the Canaan of their high desire--
No milk read more

You led our sons across the haunted flood,
Into the Canaan of their high desire--
No milk and honey there, but tears and blood
Flowed where the hosts of evil trod in fire,
And left a worse than desert where they passed.

"Why me?" That is the soldier's first question, asked each morning as the patrols go out and each evening as read more

"Why me?" That is the soldier's first question, asked each morning as the patrols go out and each evening as the night settles around the foxholes.

Each year his mighty armies marched forth in gallant show,
Their enemies were targets, their bullets they were tow.

Each year his mighty armies marched forth in gallant show,
Their enemies were targets, their bullets they were tow.

Our God and soldier we alike adore - Just at the brink of ruin not before - The danger past, read more

Our God and soldier we alike adore - Just at the brink of ruin not before - The danger past, both are alike requited; God is forgotten and the soldier slighted

He stands erect; his slouch becomes a walk;
He steps right onward, martial in his air,
His read more

He stands erect; his slouch becomes a walk;
He steps right onward, martial in his air,
His form and movement.

Back of the boy is Wilson,
Pledge of his high degree,
Back of the boy is Lincoln,
read more

Back of the boy is Wilson,
Pledge of his high degree,
Back of the boy is Lincoln,
Lincoln and Grant and Lee;
Back of the boy is Jackson,
Jackson and Tippecanoe,
Back of each son is Washington,
And the old red, white and blue!

O little Force that in your agony
Stood fast while England girt her armour on,
Held high read more

O little Force that in your agony
Stood fast while England girt her armour on,
Held high our honour in your wounded hands,
Carried our honour safe with bleeding feet--
We have no glory great enough for you,
The very soul of Britain keeps your day.

Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin they think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives

Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin they think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives