The mother on the sidewalk as the troops are marching by <br />Is the mother of Old Glory that is waving in the sky. <br />Men have fought to keep it splendid, men have died to keep it bright, <br />But that flag was born of woman and her sufferings day and night; <br />'Tis her sacrifice has made it, and once more we ought to pray <br />For the brave and loyal mother of the boy who goes away. <br /> <br />There are days of grief before her; there are hours that she will weep; <br />There are nights of anxious waiting when her fear will banish sleep; <br />She has heard her country calling and has risen to the test, <br />And has placed upon the altar of the nation's need, her best. <br />And no man shall ever suffer in the turmoil of the fray <br />The anguish of the mother of the boy who goes away. <br /> <br />You may boast men's deeds of glory, you may tell their courage great, <br />But to die is easier service than alone to sit and wait, <br />And I hail the little mother, with the tear-stained face and grave, <br />Who has given the flag a soldier—she's the bravest of the brave. <br />And that banner we are proud of, with its red and blue and white, <br />Is a lasting holy tribute to all mothers' love of right.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-mother-on-the-sidewalk/
