E. F. WILKINSON, M.C.
Lieut., 1/8th Battalion, West Yorks. (Leeds Rifles)
Dad o' Mine
MIDSUMMER-DAY, and the mad world a-fighting,
Fighting in holes, Dad o' Mine.
Nature's old spells are no longer delighting
Passion-filled souls, Dad o' Mine.
Vainly the birds in the branches are singing,
Vainly the sunshine its message is bringing,
Over the green-clad earth stark hate is flinging
Shadow for shine, Dad o' Mine,
Shadow for shine.
No one dare prophesy when comes an end to it,
End to the strife, Dad o' Mine.
When we can take joy and once again bend to it
What's left of life, Dad o' Mine.
Yet for one day we'll let all slip behind us,
So that your birthday, Dad, still may remind us
How strong yet supple the bonds are that bind us
Through shade and shine, Dad o' Mine,
Through shade and shine.
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