Explore "Christmas in Wartime" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
1916
Cheer oh, comrades, we can bide the blast / And face the gloom until it shall grow lighter. / What though one Christmas should be overcast, / If duty done makes all the others brighter.
1917
THE LAST LAP
We seldom were quick off the mark, / And sprinting was never our game; / But when it's insistence and hold-for-the-distance, / We've never been beat at that same.
The first lap was all to the Hun, / At the second we still saw his back; / But we knew how to wait and to spurt down the straight, / Till we left him dead-beat on the track.
He's a bluffer for all he is worth, / But he's winded and done to the core, / So the last lap is here, with the tape very near, / And the old colours well to the fore.
1918
Not merry! No -- the words would grate, / With gaps at every table-side, / But chastened, thankful, calm, sedate, / Be your victorious Christmas-tide.