'Hello, Soldier!' - Khaki Verse by Edward Dyson
page 46 of 102 (45%)
page 46 of 102 (45%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
Pore Trigger up 'n' down the trench
Was jiggin' like a blithered loan, 'N' every time she give a wrench You orter seen the beggar blench, You orter 'eard him play a toon. The sullen shells was pawin' blind, A-feelin' for us grim as sin, While now 'n' then we'd likely find A dizzy bomb come limpin' in. But Trigger simply let 'er sizz. He 'ardly begged to be excused. This was no damn concern of his. He twined a muffler round his phiz, 'N' fearful was the words he used. Lest we be getting' cock-a-whoop Ole 'Ans tries out his box of tricks. His bullets all around the coop Is peckin' like a million chicks. But Trigger when they barks his snout Don't sniff at it. He won't confess They're on the earth--ignores the clout, 'N' makes the same old sung about His brimmin' mug of bitterness. They raided us there in the mud One day afore the dead sun rose. Me oath, the mess of stuff and blood Would give a slaughterman the joes! |
|