AND have we done with War at last?
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Well, we’ve been lucky devils both,
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And there’s no need of pledge or oath
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To bind our lovely friendship fast,
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By firmer stuff
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Close bound enough.
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By wire and wood and stake we’re bound,
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By Fricourt and by Festubert,
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By whipping rain, by the sun’s glare,
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By all the misery and loud sound,
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By a Spring day,
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By Picard clay.
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Show me the two so closely bound
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As we, by the red bond of blood,
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By friendship, blossoming from mud,
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By Death: we faced him, and we found
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Beauty in Death,
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In dead men breath
|
Thursday, 6 November 2014
Two Fusiliers Analysis
Two Fusiliers - Robert Graves
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