Who died on the wires, and hung there, one of two –
Who for his hours of life had chattered through
Infinite lovely chatter of Bucks accent;
Yet faced unbroken wires; stepped over, and went,
A noble fool, faithful to his stripes – and ended.
But I weak, hungry, and willing only for the chance
Of line – to fight in the line, lay down under unbroken
Wires, and saw the flashes, and kept unshaken.
Till the politest voice – a finicking accent, said:
‘Do you think you might crawl through, there; there’s a hole;’
In the afraid
Darkness, shot at; I smiled, as politely replied –
‘I’m afraid not, Sir.’ There was no hole, no way to be seen.
Nothing but chance of death, after tearing of clothes
Kept flat, and watched the darkness, hearing bullets whizzing –
-
And thought of music – and swore deep heart’s deep oaths.
(Polite to God -) and retreated and came on again.
Again retreated – and a second time faced the screen.
Other Ivor Gurney songs:
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