Page:Ballads of a Bohemian.djvu/173

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That boy I took in the car last night, With the body that awfully sagged away, And the lips blood-crisped, and the eyes flame-bright, And the poor hands folded and cold as clay– Oh, I’ve thought and I’ve thought of him all the day.

For the weary old doctor says to me: “He’ll only last for an hour or so. Both of his legs below the knee Blown off by a bomb.… So, lad, go slow, And please remember, he doesn’t know.”

So I tried to drive with never a jar; And there was I cursing the road like mad, When I hears a ghost of a voice from the car: “Tell me, old chap, have I ‘copped it’ bad?” So I answers “No,” and he says, “I’m glad.”

“Glad,” says he, “for at twenty-two Life’s so splendid, I hate to go. There’s so much good that a chap might do,