A Private
THIS ploughman dead in battle slept out of doorsMany a frozen night, and merrilyAnswered staid drinkers, good bedmen, and allbores:"At Mrs. Greenland's Hawthorn Bush," said he,"I slept." None knew which bush. Above thetown,Beyond "The Drover," a hundred spot the downIn Wiltshire. And where now at last he sleepsMore sound in France--that, too, he secret keeps.
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