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Title: The Home Coming
Author: Abner Cosens [
More Titles by Cosens]
July 1st, 1919
Now that Heinie is licked to a frazzle,
And Fritzie is clipped in the comb,
We're holding a big razzle-dazzle
To welcome our soldier boys home.
They bore themselves brave in the battle
They kept themselves clean on parade,
They herded the Bosches like cattle
In many a nerve-racking raid.
In order to do the boys justice,
We need all the help we can get,
Without it the contract will bust us
And swamp the committee with debt.
So we want all old timers of Wingham,
(Although the good town has gone dry)
Fast as railroad or auto can bring 'em,
To come on the first of July.
Perhaps you've grown rich on the prairies,
Your farm in town lots you have sold,
Or, with products of wheat fields and dairies,
Have lined all your pockets with gold,
Or it may be your harp strings are rusted,
Your measures all halting and lame,
Perhaps you're discouraged and busted,
And tired of playing the game.
If so, come to Wingham this summer,
Forget the world's trouble and strife,
Our program will sure be a hummer,
We'll give you the time of your life.
We'll make no untimely suggestions,
Concerning the length of your stay,
Nor ask you impertinent questions
About what you've done while away.
[The end]
Abner Cosens's poem: Home Coming
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