My Country Medley

My Country Medley

I cannot express how grateful I am to our servicemen and women.  

They are extraordinary people in their service and valor -

so that we may live wonderfully ordinary lives.

God bless and keep you.

The music is flawed (who knew I would want to share it with others?) -

but my appreciation for our soldiers is greater.

So here you have it.

Please pray for our troops and their families.

Poems below are written by Edgar A Guest.  Really worth reading :>)

(Here's a link to find other poems by him.)

The Things That Make A Soldier Great
Edgar Guest 

The things that make a soldier great 
 and send him out to die,
To face the flaming cannon's mouth 
 nor ever question why,
Are lilacs by a little porch, 
 the row of tulips red,
The peonies and pansies, too, 
 the old petunia bed,
The grass plot where his children play, 
 the roses on the wall:
'Tis these that make a soldier great.
He's fighting for them all.

'Tis not the pomp and pride of kings 
 that make a soldier brave;
'Tis not allegiance to the flag 
 that over him may wave;
For soldiers never fight so well 
 on land or on the foam
As when behind the cause they see 
 the little place called home.
Endanger but that humble street 
 whereon his children run,
You make a soldier of the man 
 who never bore a gun.

What is it through the battle smoke 
 the valiant solider sees?
The little garden far away, 
 the budding apple trees,
The little patch of ground back there, 
 the children at their play,
Perhaps a tiny mound behind 
 the simple church of gray.
The golden thread of courage 
 isn't linked to castle dome
But to the spot, where'er it be --
 the humblest spot called home.

And now the lilacs bud again 
 and all is lovely there
And homesick soldiers far away 
 know spring is in the air;
The tulips come to bloom again, 
 the grass once more is green,
And every man can see the spot 
 where all his joys have been.
He sees his children smile at him, 
 he hears the bugle call,
And only death can stop him now --
 he's fighting for them all.

The Mother on the Sidewalk

Edgar Guest

The mother on the sidewalk as the troops are marching by

Is the mother of Old Glory that is waving in the sky.

Men have fought to keep it splendid, men have died to keep it bright,

But that flag was born of woman and her sufferings day and night;

"Tis her sacrifice has made it, and once more we ought to pray

For the brave and loyal mother of the boy who goes away.

There are days of grief before her; there are hours that she will weep;

There are nights of anxious waiting when her fear will banish sleep;

She has heard her country calling and has risen to the test,

And has placed upon the altar of the nation's need, her best.

And no man shall ever suffer in the turmoil of the fray

The anguish of the mother of the boy who goes away.

You may boast men's deeds of glory, you may tell their courage great,

But to die is easier service than alone to sit and wait,

And I hail the little mother, with the tear-stained face and grave,

Who has given the flag a soldier - she's the bravest of the brave.

And that banner we are proud of, with its red and blue and white,

Is a lasting holy tribute to all mothers' love of right.

A Creed

Edgar Guest

Lord let me not in service lag.
Let me be worthy of our flag.
Let me remember when I'm tired,
The sons heroic who have died.

In freedom's name and in my way,
Teach me to be as brave as they.
In all I am, in all I do,
Unto our flag I would be true.

For God and country let me stand,

Unstained of soul, clean of hand.
Teach me to serve and guard and love,
The starry flag that flies above.