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 I have never known a moment that was fraught with real care, Save the hurts and griefs of sorrow that all mortals have to bear; With the gay and smiling marchers I have tramped on pleasant ways, And have paid with feeble service for the gladness of my days. But to you has come a summons, yours are days of sacrifice, And for all life has of sweetness you must pay a bitter price.

Men have fought and died before me, men must fight and die today, I have merely taken pleasures for which others had to pay; I have been a man of laughter, there’s no path my feet have made, I have merely been a marcher in life’s gaudy dress parade. But you wear the garb of service, you have splendid deeds to do, You shall sound the depths of manhood and, my boy, I envy you.