THE KNITTERS
THEY sit in circles or they draw apart,
Each following the dictates of her heart
For comradeship or solitude;
And in the yarn that's blue or drab or gray
The shining needles flash the livelong day
Knitting, knitting,
Knitting soldier things.
Each following the dictates of her heart
For comradeship or solitude;
And in the yarn that's blue or drab or gray
The shining needles flash the livelong day
Knitting, knitting,
Knitting soldier things.
They are the women whom you left behind,
O soldier lads, the women brave and kind
Whose thoughts spin with the somber yarn
And race the wind for many a changing mile
To catch, in memory, your goodbye smile—
Knitting, knitting,
Knitting soldier things.
O soldier lads, the women brave and kind
Whose thoughts spin with the somber yarn
And race the wind for many a changing mile
To catch, in memory, your goodbye smile—
Knitting, knitting,
Knitting soldier things.
And, oh, the hopes that bead the thread with gold,
And, oh, the tears as old as time is old
That gather slow and fall unseen!
For, soldier lads, their yearning hearts are where
You fight in France, their every breath a prayer—
Knitting, knitting,
Knitting soldier things.
And, oh, the tears as old as time is old
That gather slow and fall unseen!
For, soldier lads, their yearning hearts are where
You fight in France, their every breath a prayer—
Knitting, knitting,
Knitting soldier things.
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