I wonder if the old cow died or not. Gey bad she was the night I left, and sick. Dick reckoned she would mend. He knows a lot -- At least he fancies so himself, does Dick. Dick knows a lot. But maybe I did wrong To leave the cow to him, and come away. Over and over like a silly song These words keep bumming in my head all day. And all I think of, as I face the foe And take my lucky chance of being shot, Is this -- that if I'm hit, I'll never know Till Doomsday if the old cow died or not. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PLACE OF PEACE by EDWIN MARKHAM POST-MORTEM by EMILY DICKINSON SONNET by ALICE RUTH MOORE DUNBAR-NELSON THE BONNIE BLUE FLAG by ANNIE CHAMBERS KETCHUM WHICH WAS MOST TRULY DEAD? by CHARLES AUGUSTIN SAINTE-BEUVE |