As up and down I fare by road and street <br />The mothers of our men-at-arms I meet <br />Who die for mine and me, <br />That we go safe and free, <br />Sit in the sun, sleep soft and find life sweet. <br /> <br />I have two sons too young to fight, too young, <br />God grant if my hour comes I may be strong, <br />And caught in such a strait <br />May praise God and be great, <br />Giving my sons to save some woman from wrong! <br />Oh, mothers of dead heroes, ye I know, <br />My heart sends you a greeting, soft and low; <br />Blessed are ye whose sons <br />Amid the ransomed ones <br />Throng to the banners of Heaven as white as snow. <br /> <br />Somehow, by some secret and certain sign, <br />The mothers of the beloved I divine <br />Who died in my sons' place. <br />My heart kneels and gives grace. <br />Gives thanks for you, for you, proud sisters of mine!<br /><br />Katharine Tynan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/meetings-4/
