Ode to a Patriot

I saw a mother on a screen
Whose eyes blazed with a fire keen
To take up arms against the foe
Who’d ruled her homeland years ago.
And yet somehow they had forgot
That no weapons can touch a thought
That springs up like a tree.
So on that mother’s face writ, blessed
Was: dolce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Back when nineteen was in its teens
And earth was full of kings and queens
The war to end all wars did seem
To kill the patriot’s dear theme.
As though somehow the bullets shot
Had killed both soldiers and the thought
Like felling a great tree.
For men spoke only then in jest
Of: dolce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

But now when life’s ease seems to make men soft
They struggle off their couch to raise aloft
The banner that time has proved best
At giving death glory.
Sing: dolce et decorum est
Pro patria mori!