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Oh, it isn't cheerful to see a man, the
marvellous work of God,
Crushed in the mutilation mill, crushed to a smeary clod;
Oh, it isn't cheerful to hear him moan; but it isn't that I mind,
It isn't the anguish that goes with him, it's the anguish he leaves
behind.
For his going opens a tragic door that gives on a world of pain,
And the death he dies, those who live and love, will die again and
again.
From "Only a Boche," by Robert W.
Service
From "Rhymes of a Red Cross Man,"
published by Barse & Co.
***
CRUMPLED
LIFE'S BLOOD
ASPHYXIATED
AT REST
SHRAPNEL
WOUND
How many men
were killed today?
Ten thousand will never again draw their pay!
Ten thousand will never again see the sun,
They were good soldiers and their work is done.
From "Song and Cry of a Soldier in
the Lines," by Albert Edward Clements
Used by permission of The Macmillan
Company, publishers
***
GOOD
SOLDIERS
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