Do Not Cheer, Men Are Dying," Said Capt. Phillips, In The Spanish-American War.

Do not cheer, for men are dying          From their distant homes in pain;      And the restless sea is darkened          By a flood of crimson rain.      Do not cheer, for anxious mothers          Wait and watch in lonely dread;      Vainly waiting for the footsteps          Never more their paths to tread.      Do not cheer, while little children          Gather round the widowed wife,      Wondering why an unknown people          Sought their own dear father's life.      Do not cheer, for aged fathers          Bend above their staves and weep,      While the ocean sings the requiem          Where their fallen children sleep.      Do not cheer, for lips are paling          On which lay the mother's kiss;      'Mid the dreadful roar of battle          How that mother's hand they miss!      Do not cheer: once joyous maidens,          Who the mazy dance did tread,      Bow their heads in bitter anguish,          Mourning o'er their cherished dead.      Do not cheer while maid and matron          In this strife must bear a part;      While the blow that strikes a soldier          Reaches to some woman's heart.      Do not cheer till arbitration          O'er the nations holds its sway,      And the century now closing          Ushers in a brighter day.      Do not cheer until the nation          Shall more wise and thoughtful grow      Than to staunch a stream of sorrow          By an avalanche of woe.      Do not cheer until each nation          Sheathes the sword and blunts the spear,      And we sing aloud for gladness:          Lo, the reign of Christ is here,      And the banners of destruction          From the battlefield are furled,      And the peace of God descending          Rests upon a restless world.