But I Like It Because It Is

Mother, Whose Heart Hung Humble As A Button The Bright Splendid Shroud Of Your Son, Do Not Weep. War Is Kind.

Do Not Weep, Maiden, For War Is Kind. Because Your Lover Threw Wild Hands Toward The Sky And The Affrighted Steed Ran On Alone, Do Not Weep. War Is Kind. Hoarse, Booming Drums Of The Regiment, Little Souls Who Thirst For Fight, These Men Were Born To Drill And Die. The Unexplained Glory Flies Above Them, Great Is The Battle-god, Great, And His Kingdom -a Field Where A Thousand Corpses Lie. Do Not Weep, Babe, For War Is Kind.

Do Not Weep, Maiden, For War Is Kind.because Your Lover Threw Wild Hands Toward The Skyand The Affrighted Steed Ran On Alone,do Not Weep.war Is Kind.

The Voice Of God Whispers In The Heart So Softly That The Soul Pauses, Making No Noise, And Strives For These Melodies, Distant, Sighing, Like Faintest Breath, And All The Being Is Still To Hear.

Tell Her This And More,— That The King Of The Seas Weeps Too, Old, Helpless Man. The Bustling Fates Heap His Hands With Corpses Until He Stands Like A Child With Surplus Of Toys.