CONCERT PARTY
I hear you calling me; and Dixieland. . . .
Sing slowly. . .now the chorus. . .one by one
We hear them, drink them; till the concert's done.
Silent, I watch the shadowy mass of soldiers stand.
Silent, they drift away, over the glimmering sand.
Sing slowly. . .now the chorus. . .one by one
We hear them, drink them; till the concert's done.
Silent, I watch the shadowy mass of soldiers stand.
Silent, they drift away, over the glimmering sand.
Kantara. April, 1918.
