III
12 lines✦
or when my brain is on their track,In slangy speech I call them back.With fox-trot tunes their ghosts I charm._"Another little drink won't do us any harm."I think of rag-time; a bit of rag-time;And see their faces crowding roundTo the sound of the syncopated beat.They've got such jolly things to tell,Home from hell with a Blighty wound so neat..._* * * * *And so the song breaks off; and I'm alone.They're dead... For God's sake stop that gramophone.
✦