Let Me Go, Let Me Go.

This Conflict Is One Thing I've Been Waiting For. I'm Well And Strong And Young - Young Enough To Go To The Front. If I Can't Be A Soldier, I'll Help Soldiers.

What Armies And How Much Of War I Have Seen, What Thousands Of Marching Troops, What Fields Of Slain, What Prisons, What Hospitals, What Ruins, What Cities In Ashes, What Hunger And Nakedness, What Orphanages, What Widowhood, What Wrongs And What Vengeance.

I Was Only One Woman Alone, And Had No Power To Move To Action Full-fed, Sleek- Coated, Ease-loving, Pleasure-seeking, Well-paid,and Well-placed Countrymen In This War- Trampled, Dead, Old Land, Each One Afraid That He Should Be Called Upon To Do Something.

The Patriot Blood Of My Father Was Warm In My Veins.

If I Were To Speak Of War, It Would Not Be To Show You The Glories Of Conquering Armies But The Mischief And Misery They Strew In Their Tracks; And How, While They Marched On With Tread Of Iron And Plumes Proudly Tossing In The Breeze, Some One Must Follow Closely In Their Steps, Crouching To The Earth, Toiling In The Rain And Darkness, Shelterless Themselves, With No Thought Of Pride Or Glory, Fame Or Praise, Or Reward; Hearts Breaking With Pity, Faces Bathed In Tears And Hands In Blood. This Is The Side Which History Never Shows.