The kid has gone to the Colors And we don't know what to say; The kid we have loved and cuddled Stepped out for the flag to-day. We thought him a child, a baby With never a care at all, But his country called him man-size And the kid heard the call.
He paused to watch the recruiting, Where, fired by fife and drum, He bowed his head to Old Glory And thought that it whispered:"Come!" The kid, not being a slacker, Stood forth with patriot-joy To add his name to the roster, And God, we're proud of the boy!
The kid has gone to the Colors It seems but a little while Since he drilled a school-boy army In a truly martial style. But now he's a man, a Sailor, And we lend him a listening ear, For his heart is a heart all loyal, Unscourged by the curse of fear.
His dad, when he told him, shuddered, His mother-God bless her!-cried; Yet, blest with a mother-nature, She wept with a mother-pride. But he whose old shoulders straightened Was Grandad-for memory ran To years when he, too, a youngster, Was changed by the Flag to a man!
