Isabel Howe Fiske

SOMEWHERE in France my heart is kept

In a soldier’s heart, out there.

Last night I know not where it slept,

My heart, in his heart’s care.

I know not if he slept at all,

My man across the sea.

I do not know if he will fall

Or come back safe to me.

He has my heart. That is my share,

My bit, that I have sent out there.