Page:Ballads of a Bohemian.djvu/206

204 When the youth and the strength of us sapped away, And we cursed In our rage and pain? And yet–we haven’t a word to say.… We’re glad. We’d do it again.

I’m scared that they pity us. Come, old boy, Let’s leave them their flags and their fuss. We’d surely be hatin’ to spoil their joy With the sight of such wrecks as us. Let’s slip away quietly, you and me, And we’ll talk of our chums out there: ''You with your eyes that’ll never see, ''Me that’s wheeled in a chair.

“Hullo, young Jones! with your tie so gay And your pen behind your ear; Will you mark my cheque in the usual way? For I’m overdrawn, I fear.” Then you look at me in a manner bland, As you turn your ledger’s leaves, And you hand it back with a soft white hand, And the air of a man who grieves.…

''“Was it you, young Jones, was it you I saw ''(And I think I see you yet) ''With a live bomb gripped in your grimy paw ''And your face to the parapet? ''With your lips asnarl and your eyes gone mad ''With a fury that thrilled you through.…