Helen M Nightingale – 8






The War Wedding

Who would have thought it of little Clare

She would be a bride so soon?

Does she really know how much they dare

Who wed in a wartime June?

He comes to me whence the great guns shake

The earth and the bullets rain

I know because of the vow I make

He goes happier back again.

Till death shall part us- if at the word

Death take us, and part us swift

He leaves me his stainless name and sword

And I ask no other gift.

Or if he comes back to me at length

Blinded, or crippled of limb

Than I will gird up my youth and strength

To fight in my turn for him.

Then God Be good to you, little Clare

And the bells ring out a tune

Be it joy or tears you go to share

On this bridal morn in June.