There’s a drip of honeysuckle in the deep green lane;There’s old Martin jogging homeward on his worn old wain;There are cherry petals falling, and a cuckoo calling, calling,And a score of larks (God bless ’em) . . . but it’s all pain, pain.For you see I am not really there at all, not at all;For […]

I’ve been sittin’ starin’, starin’ at ‘is muddy pair of boots,And tryin’ to convince meself it’s ‘im.(Look out there, lad! That sniper–‘e’s a dysey when ‘e shoots;‘E’ll be layin’ of you out the same as Jim.)Jim as lies there in the dug-out wiv ‘is blanket round ‘is ‘ead,To keep ‘is brains from mixin’ wiv the […]

“Flowers, only flowers–bring me dainty posies,Blossoms for forgetfulness,” that was all he said;So we sacked our gardens, violets and roses,Lilies white and bluebells laid we on his bed.Soft his pale hands touched them, tenderly caressing;Soft into his tired eyes came a little light;Such a wistful love-look, gentle as a blessing;There amid the flowers waited he […]

(The Wounded Canadian Speaks) My leg? It’s off at the knee.Do I miss it? Well, some. You seeI’ve had it since I was born;And lately a devilish corn.(I rather chuckle with gleeTo think how I’ve fooled that corn.) But I’ll hobble around all right.It isn’t that, it’s my face.Oh I know I’m a hideous sight,Hardly […]

When your marrer bone seems ‘oller,And you’re glad you ain’t no taller,And you’re all a-shakin’ like you ‘ad the chills;When your skin creeps like a pullet’s,And you’re duckin’ all the bullets,And you’re green as gorgonzola round the gills;When your legs seem made of jelly,And you’re squeamish in the belly,And you want to turn about and […]

Oh, weren’t they the fine boys! You never saw the beat of them,Singing all together with their throats bronze-bare;Fighting-fit and mirth-mad, music in the feet of them,Swinging on to glory and the wrath out there.Laughing by and chaffing by, frolic in the smiles of them,On the road, the white road, all the afternoon;Strangers in a […]

When a girl’s sixteen, and as poor as she’s pretty,And she hasn’t a friend and she hasn’t a home,Heigh-ho! She’s as safe in Paris cityAs a lamb night-strayed where the wild wolves roam;And that was I; oh, it’s seven years now(Some water’s run down the Seine since then),And I’ve almost forgotten the pangs and the […]

It isn’t the foe that we fear; It isn’t the bullets that whine; It isn’t the business career Of a shell, or the bust of a mine; It isn’t the snipers who seek To nip our young hopes in the bud: No, it isn’t the guns, And it isn’t the Huns– It’s the MUD, MUD, […]

Oh ye whose hearts are resonant, and ring to War’s romance,Hear ye the story of a boy, a peasant boy of France;A lad uncouth and warped with toil, yet who, when trial came,Could feel within his soul upleap and soar the sacred flame;Could stand upright, and scorn and smite, as only heroes may:Oh, harken! Let […]

I’m gatherin’ flowers by the wayside to lay on the grave of Bill;I’ve sneaked away from the billet, ’cause Jim wouldn’t understand;‘E’d call me a silly fat’ead, and larf till it made ‘im ill,To see me ‘ere in the cornfield, wiv a big bookay in me ‘and. For Jim and me we are rough uns, […]

O God, take the sun from the sky!It’s burning me, scorching me up.God, can’t You hear my cry?‘Water! A poor, little cup!’It’s laughing, the cursed sun!See how it swells and swellsFierce as a hundred hells!God, will it never have done?It’s searing the flesh on my bones;It’s beating with hammers redMy eyeballs into my head;It’s parching […]

No, Bill, I’m not a-spooning out no patriotic tosh(The cove be’ind the sandbags ain’t a death-or-glory cuss).And though I strafes ’em good and ‘ard I doesn’t ‘ate the Boche,I guess they’re mostly decent, just the same as most of us.I guess they loves their ‘omes and kids as much as you or me;And just the […]

“Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad,On this glittering morn of May?”“I’m going to join the Colours, Dad;They’re looking for men, they say.”“But you’re only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad;You aren’t obliged to go.”“I’m seventeen and a quarter, Dad,And ever so strong, you know.” . . . . . “So you’re off to […]

For oh, when the war will be overWe’ll go and we’ll look for our dead;We’ll go when the bee’s on the clover,And the plume of the poppy is red:We’ll go when the year’s at its gayest,When meadows are laughing with flow’rs;And there where the crosses are greyest,We’ll seek for the cross that is ours. For […]

We brought him in from between the lines: we’d better have let him lie;For what’s the use of risking one’s skin for a TYKE that’s going to die?What’s the use of tearing him loose under a gruelling fire,When he’s shot in the head, and worse than dead, and all messed up on the wire? However, […]

You want me to tell you a story, a yarn of the firin’ line,Of our thin red kharki ‘eroes, out there where the bullets whine;Out there where the bombs are bustin’, and the cannons like ‘ell-doors slam–Just order another drink, boys, and I’ll tell you of Soulful Sam. Oh, Sam, he was never ‘ilarious, though […]

All day long when the shells sail overI stand at the sandbags and take my chance;But at night, at night I’m a reckless rover,And over the parapet gleams Romance.Romance! Romance! How I’ve dreamed it, writingDreary old records of money and mart,Me with my head chuckful of fightingAnd the blood of vikings to thrill my heart. […]

When first I left Blighty they gave me a bay’nitAnd told me it ‘ad to be smothered wiv gore;But blimey! I ‘aven’t been able to stain it,So far as I’ve gone wiv the vintage of war.For ain’t it a fraud! when a Boche and yours trulyGits into a mix in the grit and the grime,‘E […]

It’s easy to fight when everything’s right,And you’re mad with the thrill and the glory;It’s easy to cheer when victory’s near,And wallow in fields that are gory.It’s a different song when everything’s wrong,When you’re feeling infernally mortal;When it’s ten against one, and hope there is none,Buck up, little soldier, and chortle: Carry on! Carry on!There […]

Humping it here in the dug-out, Sucking me black dudeen, I’d like to say in a general way, There’s nothing like Nickyteen; There’s nothing like Nickyteen, me boys, Be it pipes or snipes or cigars; So be sure that a bloke Has plenty to smoke, If you wants him to fight your wars. When I’ve […]