 | Coffin's Poems with Ajax' Ordeals |  |
Where are the Boys.
A question I would like to ask,
To answer it may be a task.
But the thought cannot be masked,
Where are the boys?
To answer it may be a task.
But the thought cannot be masked,
Where are the boys?
163
Congregations' service of song,
Thou who workest against all wrong,
Canst thou help us find the throng?
Where the boys are?
Thou who workest against all wrong,
Canst thou help us find the throng?
Where the boys are?
Young People's Club at Baptist church,
Thou who for the boys doeth much,
Canst thou answer for us on such?
Where are the boys?
Thou who for the boys doeth much,
Canst thou answer for us on such?
Where are the boys?
Epworth League at Wesley chapel,
Thou who for the boys doth battle,
Canst thou just one answer grapple?
Where are the boys?
Thou who for the boys doth battle,
Canst thou just one answer grapple?
Where are the boys?
These reply to us in sadness,
We throw out our wings in gladness,
But the boys go by in sadness,
No boys are here.
We throw out our wings in gladness,
But the boys go by in sadness,
No boys are here.
Pastors, while at morning service,
Telling men of God's own mercies,
Baffling all these earthly curses,
Where are the boys?
Telling men of God's own mercies,
Baffling all these earthly curses,
Where are the boys?
Pastors reply with saddened heart,
The true answer we cannot start,
When the truth we try to impart,
No boys are there.
The true answer we cannot start,
When the truth we try to impart,
No boys are there.
164
Mothers! thou who hast all power,
To begin these human towers,
Canst thou tell at this late hour,
Where the boys are?
To begin these human towers,
Canst thou tell at this late hour,
Where the boys are?
Mothers with the fashions and styles,
Have not time to lose with the child,
Hence the answer comes with a smile,
The boy's all right.
Have not time to lose with the child,
Hence the answer comes with a smile,
The boy's all right.
At half past nine o'clock at night,
Up and down the streets in a flight,
Some at play and others in fights,
There are the boys.
Up and down the streets in a flight,
Some at play and others in fights,
There are the boys.
On the corners they congregate,
In wicked oaths they conversate,
With a cigarette puff they state,
We are not boys.
In wicked oaths they conversate,
With a cigarette puff they state,
We are not boys.
Thus they are moving down life's stream,
Grasping all things low and mean,
Soon we will hear a mother scream
Where is my boy?
Grasping all things low and mean,
Soon we will hear a mother scream
Where is my boy?
This is the way they get their start,
The county farms will get their part,
Then we hear mother's broken heart.
Where is my boy?
The county farms will get their part,
Then we hear mother's broken heart.
Where is my boy?
165
Then they wish time in its flight
Could make him a child for one night,
O! on what a different plight,
They'd start their boy.
Could make him a child for one night,
O! on what a different plight,
They'd start their boy.
Too late, too late, will come the cry,
Neglected days have hastened by.
Hence we will hear both sobs and sighs—
Where is my boy?
Neglected days have hastened by.
Hence we will hear both sobs and sighs—
Where is my boy?
In the year of nineteen ten,
There'll be a mighty call for men,
What can we give as answer then?
Where were the boys?
There'll be a mighty call for men,
What can we give as answer then?
Where were the boys?
The nation's cancer makes a dust,
And moral virtue calls out thus,
Mothers, thou who hast all the trust,
Where are the boys?
And moral virtue calls out thus,
Mothers, thou who hast all the trust,
Where are the boys?
Mothers! You have power to save,
Down life's long stream you start the wave,
Mothers! keep not our minds enslaved.
Where are the boys?
Down life's long stream you start the wave,
Mothers! keep not our minds enslaved.
Where are the boys?
| Coffin's Poems with Ajax' Ordeals | |