An officer's rectitude runs in my figure,
An officer's honor burns deep in my bones.
I'm built with a soldier's endurance—the better
To face every hardship that comes!

It's just as if one day a rifle-butt straightened
And steeled my young step for the fight.
They're more than mere chance, my Circassian waist and
My leather belt buckled full tight.

But: sound the retreat and—Dear God! There's none bolder!-
I'd storm even—Paradise' gates!
It seems I was given my broad back and shoulders
To tackle a kit-bag's dead weight.

Perhaps—as I lay in my cradle, some frenzied
War veteran sang me a song...
Since then, it's the word I am keen to take aim at:
—Some part of that day lingers on!

So—please you, don't please you—I weep and gnash over
R.-S.-F.-S.-R. in my heart-
As if, in those deadly dark days of October,
I, too, played an officer's part.

September 1920