Little mother, little mother, with the shadows in your eyes
And the icy hand of Fear about your heart,
You cannot help your boy prepare to make his sacrifice
Unless you make yours bravely, at the start!
He is training, as a million others train;
He is giving what the others give — their best;
Make him feel your faith in him, though your troubled eyes grow dim;
Let him know that you can stand the acid test!
Because he's joined the colors — he's not dead!
Because he's found his duty — he's not lost!
Through your mother-love, my dear, keep him steady, keep him near
To the soul he loves — your soul — whate'er the cost!
You're not alone in heartaches or in doubts;
All mothers feel this burden newly coined;
Then call your trembling pride to your colors — to your side —
“Be a sport!” and make him glad that he has joined!
Little mother, little mother, with the shadows in your eyes
And the icy hand of Fear about your heart,
There is this that you can do: “Play the game”; there honor lies.
Now your boy and country need you — do your part!