The Wounded Soldier
Soldier, O Soldier! what brought you home so soon?
Can you spend your time not better than in a gambling saloon?
To Skedaddle for the wound that on your finger you've got,
Is the excuse of a coward, and you may go to pot...
For sooner than be the Valentine of such a cowardly elf,
I'd go and face the enemy, were I sure to be shot myself.
