He said: “I love her for her sense

And for her quiet innocence,

And since she bears without complaint

An anxious life of toil and care

As if she were a fireside saint …

And so her quiet eyes ensnare

My eyes all day and fill my sense

And take

My thoughts all day away from other things ; and keep

Me, when I should be fast asleep,

Awake!”

… And when she went his patience broke

And his outrageous, restless spirit woke

To a sort of mutiny against Fate …

He’d soak and soak

For nights. And he went courting a bad girl

Who sponged on him and kept him in a whirl

And brought

Him into many questionable homes.

It’s that way ruin comes.

So we all thought

He’d go to Hell—or certainly be broke …

But he got off with just an inch to spare—

The breadth of a hair!

(Corporal in charge of Regimental Gardens)

He thought: “If she would be my wife,

And live where I do set and class

My plants: when I was not on duty,

We’d lead a pleasant, quiet life,

For I’d take pleasure in her beauty,

Strolling amongst the plants in order

And stopping by the potherb border.”