Volume 158 — THIS FOR REMEMBRANCE.

I've long mused on buying a rifle, A chunk of an aeroplane's gear Or other belligerent trifle By way of a small souvenir; I've thought 'twould be fine (and your pardon I beg if this savours of swank) If the grotto that graces my garden Were topped by a tank. But only this morn I decided Exactly the thing I preferred To call back the prodigies I did When the call for fatigue men was heard; Though my life is again a civilian's, Martial glories shall come back to view If I buy from these derelict millions A rum jar or two. Though the spirit's long since been a "goner," Though the uttermost heel-tap be drained, I will give them a place of high honour, Well knowing that once they contained My solace when seasons were rotten, When the cold put my courage to flight, Or the sergeant, perchance, had forgotten To kiss me good-night. In a world that is apt to be trying, When things are inclined to go ill And I'm sitting despondently sighing, Perhaps they will comfort me still; At the sight of these humble mementoes It may be once more I shall know From the crown of my head to my ten toes That radiant glow.