 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
THE COMEDY OF DEATH.
Though the proud hero of a hundred battles,
And borne through all without a scratch or scar,
Upon the fierce and foaming waves of war,
No volley now but laughter round him rattles.
And borne through all without a scratch or scar,
Upon the fierce and foaming waves of war,
No volley now but laughter round him rattles.
Upon his knee his little grandson prattles,
And what the fathers made the children mar;
While at his side his prudent partner tattles,
And scents the savoury dinner from afar.
And what the fathers made the children mar;
While at his side his prudent partner tattles,
And scents the savoury dinner from afar.
And though the shades of life begin to thicken,
He feels no touch of overbearing age,
Nor have the days begun to dim and sicken;
He feels no touch of overbearing age,
Nor have the days begun to dim and sicken;
Till comes a foe not writ in history's page,
And he succumbs to its more fatal rage,
Choked by the bone of an avenging chicken.
And he succumbs to its more fatal rage,
Choked by the bone of an avenging chicken.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |