Classic Poem

In the glow of their youth they have come, and they pass
With the flare of the steel and the blare of the brass;
And the brave little dog, with a brisk little wag
To his stump of a tail, trots along by the flag,
At his post in the ranks like the rest of the corps,
For the brave little dog is away to the war.

" They will go! They will go! " throbs a drum as it nears;
There's the fall of a wail in the roar of our cheers.
But the brave little dog is as gay as a lark;
There is joy, there is heart in his brave little bark
As he gambols behind or he frolics before,
For the brave little dog is away to the war.

He's away to the war. There'll be need of him there —
Of the stanch little tyke that's the foe of despair;
For there's none that's so old in the world, or so wise,
But may find a new faith in the depth of his eyes,
And his tongue is a balm to the heart that is sore;
So the brave little dog is away to the war.

May the powers be good to the glad little elf,
Who is first for his friends and is last for himself;
May there still be a bone for his hunger to find,
And a pat on the head from a hand that is kind;
May the heaven of men keep a wide-open door
For the brave little dog that's away to the war.