Took their red toll on Flanders' soil,
Six years since brute in human form
Tall spire and meadow did despoil ;
And six years dead the war's red light,
Yet still I hear the guns at night. Nine years to-day he said "good-bye"
With jesting word from heavy heart,
And smiling lips that hid the pain,
And hands that clung, then fell.
Nine years to-day we laughed at fate,
But still I hear him at the gate. Eight years have gone by since he fell,
They say he dropped in No Man's Land,
In onward rush, intent to kill,
His soldier's weapon in his hand.
Eight years ago I lost my all,
But all my life I see Him fall. --M. H. Edgerley. Notes From the Queensland Newspaper The Observer 15 Nov 1924 p. 27.