VIII
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ome, gaze with me upon this domeof many coloured glass, and seehis mother’s pride, his father’s joy,unto whom duty whispers low “thou must!” and who replies “I can!”--yon clean upstanding well dressed boythat with his peers full oft hath quaffedthe wine of life and found it sweet-- a tear within his stern blue eye,upon his firm white lips a smile,one thought alone: to do or diefor God for country and for Yale above his blond determined headthe sacred flag of truth unfurled,in the bright heyday of his youththe upper class American unsullied stands, before the world:with manly heart and conscience free,upon the front steps of her homeby the high minded pure young girl much kissed, by loving relativeswell fed, and fully photographedthe son of man goes forth to warwith trumpets clap and syphilis
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