Knitting

At the concert and the play     Everywhere you see them sitting,     Knitting, knitting.     Women who the other day     Thought of nothing but their frocks     Or their jewels or their locks,     Women who have lived for pleasure,     Who have known no work but leisure,     Now are knitting, knitting, knitting     For the soldiers over there.     On the trains and on the ships     With a diligence befitting,     They are knitting.     Some with smiles upon their lips,     Some with manners debonair,     Some with earnest look and air.     But each heart in its own fashion,     Weaves in pity and compassion     In their knitting, knitting, knitting     For the soldiers over there.     Hurried women to and fro     From their homes to labour flitting,     Knitting, knitting,     Busy handed come and go.     Broken bits of time they spare,     Just to feel they do their share,     Just to keep life's sense of beauty     In the doing of a duty,     They are knitting, knitting, knitting     For the soldiers over there.