4597820Ballads of Battle — The PenitentJoseph Lee

THE PENITENT

As I lay in the trenches at Noove Chapelle,
Where the big guns barked like the Hounds o' Hell,
Sez I to mysel', sez I to mysel':—

Billy, me boy, here's the end o' you—
But if, by good luck, ye should chance to slip thro',
Ye'll bid all ye'r evil companions adieu;
Keep the Lord's ten Commands—and Lord Kitchener's two—
Sez I to mysel' at Noove Chapelle.

No more women, and no more wine,
No more hedgin' to get down the line,
No more hoggin' around like a swine,
After Noove Chapelle—sez I to mysel'.

But only the good God in Heaven knows
The wayward way that a soldier goes,
And He must ha' left me to walk by mysel'—
For three times I've fell, since Noove Chapelle.

Once at Bethune and twice at Estaires,
The divil gripped hould o' me unawares—
Yet often and often I've prayed me prayers,
Since I prayed by mysel', at Noove Chapelle.

Well, the Lord above, who fashioned the French,
May bethink how bewitchin' is wine and a wench
To a chap that's been tied for three weeks to a trench,
Around Noove Chapelle—that black border of Hell.

And me throat was dry and the night was damp,
And the rum was raw—and red was the lamp!—
And—Billy, me boy, ye'r a bit o' a scamp,
That's the truth to tell—tho' I sez it mysel'.

What's worritin' me isn't fear that they'll miss
Me out o' the ranks in the realms o' bliss;
It ain't hope o' Heaven, nor horror o' Hell,
But just breakin' the promise, 'twixt God and mysel',
Made at Noove Chapelle.

Well, there's always a way that is open to men
When they gets the knock-out—that's get up again;
And, sure now, ould Satan ain't yet counted ten!
I'm game for another good bout wi' mysel'―
As at Noove Chapelle.