Yes, take my boy And make him strong. Fill his young heart With jingo song.
Repair his teeth, And feed him well. Ah, see how fast His muscles swell!
I, too, want him To live in health. But lack of funds Precludes such wealth.
Now, thanks to you Whom we make wealthy, If he must die, He will die healthy!
A parent hands over a thin, underfed son to the army, and the tone is sarcastic from the first line. The speaker sounds like they're thanking the military for what it offers: strong muscles, repaired teeth, regular meals, a heart full of patriotic songs. But the thanks is poisoned. The speaker admits they want the same things for the boy, only poverty ("lack of funds") has kept him from them. The army is giving him, for the first time, the health his family could never afford.
The sting arrives in the last two lines. The boy is being fattened up for war, and the best that can be said is that if he dies, he'll die healthy. The short, bouncy lines and neat rhymes feel almost like a jingle, which makes the grim point sharper. The mood is bitter and quietly furious, aimed at a society that cares for poor children only when it wants to use them.