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The postman delivered the letter,
It filled her dear heart with joy;
But she didn't know till she read the inside,
'Twas the last one from her darling boy.
"Dear Mom," was the way that it started,
"I miss you so much," it went on;
"Mom, l didn't know that l loved you so,
But I'll prove it when this war is won.
"I'm writing this down in a trench, Mom,
Don't scold if it isn't too neat;
For you know as you did when l was a kid,
And l came home with mud on my feet.
"The captain just gave us our orders,
And Mom, we must carry them through;
I'll finish this letter the first chance l get,
But for now I'll just say l love you."
The mother's old hands began to tremble,
As she fought against tears in her eyes;
But they came unashamed, for there was no name,
For she knew that her darling had died.
That night as she knelt down by her bedside,
She prayed, "Lord above, hear my plea;
And protect all the sons who are fighting tonight,
And may God keep America free."
Collected in 1951 from Marie Hartery of Portugal Cove South, NL, and published in MacEdward Leach And The Songs Of Atlantic Canada © 2004 Memorial University of Newfoundland Folklore and Language Archive (MUNFLA).
