Yes, I know 'im; so I seen 'im, barrackin' Eternity.
An' the land that 'e wus born in is the land that mothered me.
Strike! I ain't no sniv'lin' blighter; but I own me eyes git brighter
When I see 'em pokin' mullock at the everlastin' sea:
When I 'ear 'em mockin' terror wiv a merry slab o' mirth,
'Ell! I'm proud I bin to gaol in sich a land as give 'em birth!
******
"When I'm sittin' in me dug-out wiv the bullets droppin' near,"
Writes ole Ginger; "an' a chorus smacks me in the flamin' ear:
P'raps a song that Rickards billed, er p'raps a line o' 'Waltz Matilder',
Then I feel I'm in Australia, took an' shifted over 'ere.
Till the music sort o' gits me, an' I lets me top notes roam
While I treats the gentle foeman to a chunk uv ' 'Ome, Sweet 'Ome.'"
They wus singin' on the troopship, they wus singin' in the train;
When they left their land be'ind 'em they wus shoutin' a refrain.
An' I'll bet they 'ave a chorus, gay an' glad in greetin' for us.
When their bit uv scrappin's over, an' they lob back 'ome again...
An' the blokes that ain't returnin'—blokes that's paid the biggest price.
They go singin', singin', singin' to the Gates uv Paradise.
