TO MARGARET.
FROM "SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE" Little one, whose laughing eyes Lit with mischief I so prize. And whose laughing glance Steels my heart to play the game, Win perchance some little fame And to gain a soldier's name — "Somewhere in Franco.' Ga tin-red in from every shore, English home and Irish moor, Scottish cot and manse: To the country's call awake, Day and lot rly risks we take. For you and other weeklies' sak/\ "Somewhere in France." Sword and rifle do their work, Hand crena.de and Scottish dirk. And the drfdly lance; For the sake of each wee maid Bitter war shall be our trade, And we'll fight on unafraid—- " Sonic v. Lore in France.' But lisping baby prayer:' (luav.ls os likc a bless'ng raie, From a'l n f chance: Through a vrild of grief and pain, Wirm the Go! of Peace snail reign We '-ha' 1 e-.rur to yon again. "From "Somewhere in Franco. ' .T. ATKINSON.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/LWM19170904.2.40
Bibliographic details
Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 3252, 4 September 1917, Page 7
Word Count
158TO MARGARET. Lake Wakatip Mail, Issue 3252, 4 September 1917, Page 7
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