"I ain't seen much uv God," said 'e;
"Not 'ere nor Over There;
But, partly wot I've seen an' read,
An' partly wot the padre said,
It gits me when I stare
Out West when it's like that is now.
There must be somethin' else—some'ow.
"I've thought a lot," said Digger Smith—
"Out There I thought a lot.
I thought uv death, an' all the rest.
An' uv me mates, good mates gone West ;
An' it ain't much I've got;
But things get movin' in me 'ead
When I look over there," 'e said.
'E's got me beat, 'as little Smith.
I knoo 'im years ago:
I knoo 'im as a reel tough boy
'Oo roughed it up with 'oly joy ;
But now, well, I dunno.
An' when I ask Mar Flood she sighs—
An' sez 'e's got the Anzac eyes.
She sez 'e's got them soldier's eyes
That makes 'er own eyes wet.
