 | The Poetical Works of Sydney Dobell |  |
228
THE WOUNDED.
‘See to my brother, Doctor; I have lainAll day against his heart; it is warm there;
This stiffness is a trance; he lives! I swear,—
I swear he lives!’ ‘Good Doctor, tell my ain
Auld Mother’—but his pale lips moved in vain.
‘Doctor, when you were little Master John,
I left the old place; you will see it again.
Tell my poor Father,—turn down the wood-lane
Beyond the home-field—cross the stepping stone
To the white cottage, with the garden gate—
O God!’—he died. ‘Doctor, when I am gone
Send this to England.’ ‘Doctor, look upon
A countryman!’ ‘Devant mon Chef? Ma foi!’
‘Oui, il est blessé beaucoup plus que moi.’
| The Poetical Works of Sydney Dobell | |