* * *
With kisses on lips, eyes and forehead,
Sign me the sign of the Cross.
If my heart throb its last for our banner,
Greater the gain than the loss.
If we gain—there ‘ll be time for our wooing,
In paths where the wild roses nod;
If we lose—I ‘ll wait for you, dearest,
‘Neath the palms by the mount of our God.