XXVII THE SUBALTERN SOLILOQUIZES

In this cold ditch, with frozen feet And stomach turned by filth and stink, If one can only dream, it’s sweet To lose oneself and think ... and think. By gad, but they were fun, those days —They seem a thousand years ago— When we were setting town ablaze And danced, and wenched, and thought things slow! Those kisses in the warm June nights, And O! those dawns by Prince’s gate— Champagne and sunshine, loves and fights— Who guessed that they would end in “hate?” Well, now they’re gone, I’m only glad I made things jolly, while I could! To face the music ain’t so bad If, while you had it, life was good.