HIS PIPE.
(For the N.Z. Tablet.) His pipe ! The briar I gave him when he went away— Returned to me by the cruel fate That struck him down, untimely, in the fray ; Nought could I have more intimate Than this, his pipe ! Perchance in some lone hour he sought the balm Of solace from its magic store Soothing his spirit with the subtle charm Of peace—mid the turmoil of war— Only his pipe ! With the dead grey ashes of his last smoke Still fragrant in the charred bowl Sacred to me as if the dead past spoke, Breathing again his living soul. Harold Gallagher. Dunedin.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZT19170628.2.60
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Tablet, 28 June 1917, Page 38
Word Count
105HIS PIPE. New Zealand Tablet, 28 June 1917, Page 38
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