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OUT YONDER
You may see his eye shine brightly, for he bears
his burden lightly, As he makes his journey nightly up the long
road from Bethune, With his bayonet briskly swinging, and you'll
hear him singing, singing, In the silence and the silver, molten silver, of
the moon.
Young and eager—bright his face is, spirit of
the shrapneled places
Where the homes are battered, broken, and the
land in ruin lies. g 97 |
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