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S. Donald Cox
O! the ground seemed such a way below,
But he smiled a doubtful smile-a,
And he grit his teeth and sang "Cheer-o!"
Though the drop to the ground seemed a mile-a.
The song of the man in the khaki-coat
As he stands in the wet and snow,
A smoking rifle in his hands
And his feet in the mud below.
The tale of the charge and the man that fell,
Of the tunic dyed with red,
The tight-clenched teeth and the clammy brow
And the stain where the wound had bled.
O! he groaned as he jolted to and fro
And wan, wan was his smile-a,
But he grit his teeth and he hummed "Cheer-o!"
And he died at the end of a mile-a.
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