A poem by William Arthur Dunkerley

Curly head, and laughing eyes,--
Mischief that all blame defies.

Everlasting din and racket.

Tennis,--boating,--socks and ties,--
Tragedies,--and comedies.

Business,--sobered,--getting on,--
One girl now,--The Only One.

London Scottish,--sporran,--kilt,--
Bonnet cocked at proper tilt.

Dies Irae!--Off to France,--
Lord,--a safe deliverance!

Deadly work,--foul gases,--trenches;
Naught that radiant spirit quenches.

Letters dated "Somewhere--France,"--
Mud,--and grub,--and no romance.

Hearts at home all on the quiver,
Telegrams make backbones shiver.

Silence!--Feverish enquiry;--
Dies Irae!--Dies Irae!

His the joy,--and ours the pain,
But, ere long, we'll meet again.

Not too much we'll sorrow--for
It's both "à Dieu!" and "au revoir!"

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