THE MARCHING FAITH

I HAVE seen the men go marching, Marching away from life; Away from love and children Into a bitter strife. I have seen the men go marching With strange high courage shod— The old, old way of Crusaders Men who believe in God. Brown eyes, blue eyes, grey eyes, Swing of the Highland kilt, Shoulders of English lordling, Slight form Eastern built, Chin of a New York lawyer, Head of a happy Greek. I have seen the men go marching, And I know the thing they seek. I have seen the men go marching, And I have no word to say; They have read their hearts more truly Than I in my wistful way. They sprang to an instinct Action, Though they scorned the path they trod. Gold help us! we must follow— Men who go forth for God. Brown eyes, blue eyes, grey eyes, Eyes that have laughed with love, Eyes that have glowed with music, Indian eyes that rove, Jaw of a tall Italian, Teeth of the French Touraine, Faces full of the tide of life, That will not come back again. I have seen the men go marching, And I know what I must do:— Never to play them weak or false Though the news be false or true; Whatever the Great Endeavor For body or brain or pen, I must be true forever To the faith of the Marching Men!