Chapter C: A. Tait (20)

Such memories blaze their imprint under the traces
Of darker records on the palimpsest.
The blacker the time the deeper bites the zest
Of sudden sunshine on the open spaces.
There's a rough justice fingering the scale
Where greater guerdons risk the longer price--
Hazard your neck, and savour your cakes and ale--
Seek Eden-fruit, and stake your Paradise.
For though smooth road's good going, Jim--a kiss
Snatched at the edge of Hell is tenfold bliss.

One thing is sure. This crazy round-about
Destroys the introspective attitude.
Action uproots the dreamy Hamlet-mood,
And blithely cuts the yellow throat of Doubt.
Your job is clear before you, catalogued
From dawn to dawn. You cannot miss the greens,
Slice as you will--the fairway lies undogged
By furtive may-be-sos and might-have-beens--
Flank unto flank no hesitation ghosts
The crude commands of Corps Direction-Posts.

Leave it at that, then. On your toes, old son!
Still with a grin for plagues we can't abolish--
The super-fatted Staff; the wily Hun;
The Army's tribal god of Spit-and-Polish.
Blight seize 'em all!
I'll wander now and borrow
A couple of blankets from the R.T.O.,
You can doss down with me an hour or so.
We'll trek together to the guns to-morrow.
Finish your swipes, old Jimmy, while you can--
Walk--March! The blooming ride! Bonne chance,
Suzanne!