C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Wilfrid Wilson Gibson (1878–1962)

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.