"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 pa**ed 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."