Young Fellow, My Lad

"Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad
On this glittering morn of May?"
"I'm going to join the Colors, Dad
They're looking for men, they say."
"But you're only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad
You aren't obliged to go."
"Well, I'm seventeen and a quarter, Dad
And ever so strong, you know."

"So you're off to France, Young Fellow My Lad
And you're looking so fit and bright."
"I'm terribly sorry to leave you, dad
But I feel that I'm doing right."
"God bless you and keep you, Young Fellow My Lad
You're all of my life, you know."
"Don't worry. I'll soon be back, dear dad
And I'm awfully proud to go."

"Why don't you write, Young Fellow My Lad?
I watch for the post each day;
And I miss you so and I'm awfully sad
And it's months since you went away
And I've had the fire in the parlor lit
And I'm keeping it burning bright
Till my boy comes home, and here I sit
Into the quiet night."

"What is the matter, Young Fellow My Lad?
No letter again to-day
Why did the postman look so sad
And sigh as he turned away?
Well, I hear them tell that we've gained new ground
But a terrible price we've paid:
God grant, my boy, that you're safe and sound;
But oh I'm afraid, afraid."

"They've told me the truth, Young Fellow My Lad
You'll never come back again:
(Oh God! the dreams and the dreams I've had
And the hopes I've nursed in vain.)
For you passed in the night, Young Fellow My Lad
And you proved in the cruel test
Of the screaming shell and the battle hell
That my boy was one of the best."

"So you'll live, you'll live, Young Fellow My Lad
In the gleam of the evening star
In the wood-note wild and the laugh of the child
In all sweet things that are
And you'll never die, my wonderful boy
While life is noble and true:
For all our beauty and hope and joy
We will owe to our lads like you."