Oh! we love all the French, and we speak in French <br />As along through France we go. <br />But the moments to us that are keen and sweet <br />Are the ones when our khaki boys we meet, <br />Stalwart and handsome and trim and neat; <br />And we call to them-'Boys, hello!' <br />'Hello, American boys, <br />Luck to you, and life's best joys! <br />American boys, hello!' <br /> <br /> <br />We couldn't do that if we were at home- <br />It never would do you know! <br />For there you must wait till you're told who's who, <br />And to meet in the way that nice folks do. <br />Though you knew his name, and your name he knew- <br />You never would say 'Hello, hello, American boy!' <br />But here it's just a joy, <br />As we pass along in the stranger throng, <br />To call out, 'Boys, hello!' <br /> <br /> <br />For each is a brother away from home; <br />And this we are sure is so, <br />There's a lonesome spot in his heart somewhere, <br />And we want him to feel there are friends <br />right there <br /> <br />In this foreign land, and so we dare <br />To call out 'Boys, hello!' <br />'Hello, American boys, <br />Luck to you, and life's best joys! <br />American boys, hello!'<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/american-boys-hello/
