You go, my son, to the battle-field <br />To repel the invading foe; <br />'Mid its fiercest conflicts never yield <br />Till death shall lay you low. <br /> <br />Our God, who smiles upon the Right, <br />And frowns upon the Wrong, <br />Will nerve you for our holy fight, <br />And make your courage strong. <br /> <br />Our cause is just. For it we pray <br />At morning, noon and night; <br />Upon our banners we inscribe <br />God, Liberty and Right. <br /> <br />I love you as my life, <br />My dear beloved son; <br />Your country calls-go forth and fight <br />Till Freedom's cause is won. <br /> <br />It may be that you fall in death, <br />Contending for your home, <br />Yet your aged mother will not be <br />Forsaken, though alone. <br /> <br />A thousand generous hearts there are <br />Throughout this sunny land, <br />Whose ample fortunes will be spent <br />With an unsparing hand. <br /> <br />Now go, my son; a mother's prayers <br />Will ever follow thee; <br />And in the thickest of the fight <br />Strike home for liberty. <br /> <br />On every hill, in every glen, <br />We'll fight till we are free- <br />We'll fight till every limpid brook <br />Runs crimson to the sea. <br /> <br />No truce we know, till every foe <br />Shall leave our hallowed sod, <br />And we regain that Heaven born boon- <br />'Freedom to worship God.'<br /><br />Anonymous Americas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-southern-mother-s-charge/
