TO THE GLORY OF THE NEEDLE
By permission of Needlecraft, Augusta, Maine
Never before have they plied so well—
Never so sturdily;
Love in the wool, and there's love in the stitch,
And the heart of the woman is doubly rich
Who's knitting for you and me.
The way of the war is a right hard way,
And troubled and grim and blind;
But what of the mothers at home to-day,
And the love that we left behind?
Click! click! click!—so do the needles sing,
Click! click! click!—souls of us seem a-wing.
And the gray wool falls into magic place,
And we fancy we see such a fair, sweet face
That battle is blessed with a holy grace—
And so do the needles sing!
Never before was their task so dear—
Never so bitter-sweet!
We of the trench and the blood-red land
Look to the thrift of that swift, sure hand
In victory—or defeat!
Our thoughts stray back to a sunlit room
Where the casement is wide and bright;
And the fairy work of a finger-loom
That spins from the dawn till night.
