West

"I'VE seen so much uv dirt an' grimeI'm mad to 'ave things clean.I've seen so much uv death," 'e said—"So many cobbers lyin' dead—You won't know wot I mean ;But, lad, I've 'ad so much uv strifeI want things straightened in my life.

"I've seen so much uv 'ate," 'e said—"Mad 'ate an' silly rage—I'm yearnin' for clear thoughts," said 'e"Kindness an' love seem good to me.I want a new, white pageTo start all over, clean an' good,An' live me life as reel men should."

We're sittin' talkin' by the fence,The sun's jist goin' down,Paintin' the sky all gold an' pink.Said 'e, "When it's like that, I think—"An' then 'e stops to frown.Said 'e, "I think, when it's jist so,Uv .... God or somethin': I dunno.

"I ain't seen much uv God," said 'e;"Not 'ere nor Over There;But, partly wot I've seen an' read,An' partly wot the padre said,It gits me when I stareOut West when it's like that is now.There must be somethin' else—some'ow.

"I've thought a lot," said Digger Smith—"Out There I thought a lot.I thought uv death, an' all the rest.An' uv me mates, good mates gone West ;An' it ain't much I've got;But things get movin' in me 'eadWhen I look over there," 'e said.

'E's got me beat, 'as little Smith.I knoo 'im years ago:I knoo 'im as a reel tough boy'Oo roughed it up with 'oly joy ;But now, well, I dunno.An' when I ask Mar Flood she sighs—An' sez 'e's got the Anzac eyes.

She sez 'e's got them soldier's eyesThat makes 'er own eyes wet.

An' we must give 'im wholesome foodAn' lead 'is thoughts to somethin' goodAn' never let 'im fret.But 'e ain't frettin', seems to me;More—puzzled, fur as I can see.

The clouds above the hills was toreApart, until, some'ow.It seemed like some big, shinin' gate.Said 'e, "Why, lad, I tell yeh straight,I feel like startin' now.An' walkin' on, an' on, an' thro',Dead game an'—Ain't it so to you?

"I've seen enough uv pain," 'e said,"An' cursin', killin' 'ordes.I ain't the man to smooge with GodTo get to 'Eaven on the nod,Or 'owl 'ymns for rewards.But this believin'? Why—Oh, 'Struth!This never 'it me in me youth.

"They talk uv love 'twixt men," said 'e."That sounds dead crook to you.But lately I 'ave come to see." . . ."'Old on," I said; "it seems to meThere's love uv women too.

An you?" 'E turns away 'is 'ead."I'm only 'arf a man," 'e said.

"I've seen so much uv death," said 'e,"Me mind is in a whirl.I've 'ad so many thoughts uv late." . . .Said I, "Now, tell me, tell me straight,Own up; ain't there a girl?"Said 'e, "I've done the best I can.Wot does she want with 'arf a man?"

It weren't no use. 'E wouldn't talkUv nothin' but the sky.Said 'e, "Now, dinkum, talkin' square,When you git gazin' over thereDon't you 'arf want to cry?I wouldn't be su'prised to seeAn angel comin' out," said 'e.

"Gone West!" said Digger Smith. "Ah, lad,I've seen 'em goin' West,An' often wonder, when I look,If they 'ave 'ad it dealt 'em crook,Or if they've got the restThey earned twice over by the spellThey spent down in that dinkum 'Ell."

The gold was creepin' up, the sunWas 'arf be'ind the range.It don't seem strange a man should cryTo see that glory in the sky—To me it don't seem strange.'Digger!" said 'e. "Look at it now!There must be somethin' else—some'ow."