You should have seen them: they'd slipped death's clutches, But sadder a sight you will rarely find; One had a leg off and walked on crutches, The other, a bit of a boy, was blind. And they both sat down, and the lad was trying To grope his way as a blind man tries; And half of the women around were crying, And some of the men had tears in their eyes. How he stirred me, this blind boy, clinging Just like a child to his crippled chum. But I did not cry. Oh no; a singing Came to my heart for a year so dumb, Then I knew that at three-and-twenty There is wonderful work to be done, Comfort and kindness and joy in plenty, Peace and light and love to be won. Oh, thought I, could mine eyes be given To one who will live in the dark alway! To love and to serve--'twould make life Heaven Here in my villa at Viroflay. So I left my 'poilus': and now you wonder Why to-day I am so elate. . . . Look! In the glory of sunshine yonder They're bringing my blind boy in at the gate. My Bay'nit When first I left Blighty they gave me a bay'nit And told me it 'ad to be smothered wiv gore; But blimey! I 'aven't been able to stain it, So far as I've gone wiv the vintage of war. For ain't it a fraud! when a Boche and yours truly Gits into a mix in the grit and the grime, 'E jerks up 'is 'ands wiv a yell and 'e's duly Part of me outfit every time. Left, right, Hans and Fritz! Goose step, keep up yer mits! Oh my, Ain't it a shyme! Part of me outfit every time. At toasting a biscuit me bay'nit's a dandy; I've used it to open a bully beef can; For pokin' the fire it comes in werry 'andy; For any old thing but for stickin' a man. 'Ow often I've said: "'Ere, I'm goin' to press you Into a 'Un till you're seasoned for prime," And fiercely I rushes to do it, but bless you! Part of me outfit every time. Lor, yus; _DON'T_ they look glad? Right O! 'Owl Kamerad! Oh my, always the syme! Part of me outfit every time. I'm 'untin' for someone to christen me bay'nit, Some nice juicy Chewton wot's fightin' in France; I'm fairly down-'earted--'ow _CAN_ yer explain it? I keeps gettin' prisoners every chance. As soon as they sees me they ups and surrenders, Extended like monkeys wot's tryin' to climb; And I uses me bay'nit--to slit their suspenders-- Part of me outfit every time. Four 'Uns; lor, wot a bag! 'Ere, Fritz, sample a fag! Oh my, ain't it a gyme! Part of me outfit every time. Carry On! It's easy to fight when everything's right, And you're mad with the thrill and the glory; It's easy to cheer when victory's near, And wallow in fields that are gory. It's a different song when everything's wrong, When you're feeling infernally mortal; When it's ten against one, and hope there is none, Buck up, little soldier, and chortle: