he home-returning host.
Ah, say not they are lost,
For they have found and given their life
In sacrificial strife:
Their service stars have changed from blue to gold!
That sudden rapture took them far away,
Yet are they here with us today,
Even as the heavenly stars we cannot see
Through the bright veil of sunlight
Shed their influence still
On our vexed life, and promise peace
From God to all men of good will.
What wreaths shall we entwine
For our dear boys to deck their holy shrine?
Goldenrod and asters blue,
Purple loosestrife, prince's-pine,
All the native blooms that grew
In these fresh woods and pastures new,
Wherein they loved to ramble and to play.
Bring no exotic flowers:
America was in their hearts,
And they are ours
For ever and a day.
O happy warriors, forgive the tear