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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=458372" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>When It's Over</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Young soldier, what will you be<br>When it's all over?'<br>'I shall get out and across the sea,<br>Where land's cheap and a man can thrive.<br>I shall make money. Perhaps I'll wive<br>In a place where there's room for a family.<br>I'm a bit of a rover.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Young soldier, what will you be<br>At the last 'Dismiss'?'<br>'Bucked to get back to old Leicester Square,<br>Where there's good champagne and a glad eye winking,<br>And no more 'Verey Lights' damnably blinking<br>Their weary, dreary, white-eyed stare.<br>I'll be out of this.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Young soldier, what will you be<br>When they sign the peace?'<br>'Blowed if I know; perhaps I shall stick it.<br>The job's all right if you take it steady.<br>After all, somebody's got to be ready,<br>And tons of the blighters 'll get their ticket.<br>Wars don't cease.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Young soldier, what will you be At the day's end?'<br>'Tired's what I'll be. I shall lie on the beach<br>Of a shore where the rippling waves just sigh,<br>And listen and dream and sleep and lie<br>Forgetting what I've had to learn and teach<br>And attack and defend.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Young soldier, what will you be<br>When you're next a-bed?'<br>'God knows what; but it doesn't matter,<br>For whenever I think, I always remember<br>The Belgians massacred that September,<br>And England's pledge - and the rest seems chatter.<br>What if I am dead?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Young soldier, what will you be<br>When it's all done?'<br>'I shall come back and live alone<br>On an English farm in the Sussex Weald,<br>Where the wounds in my mind will be slowly sealed,<br>And the graves in my heart will be overgrown;<br>And I'll sit in the sun.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Young soldier, what will you be<br>At the 'Last Post'?'<br>'Cold, cold in the tender earth,<br>A cold body in foreign soil;<br>But a happy spirit fate can't spoil,<br>And an extra note in the blackbird's mirth<br>From a khaki ghost.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Max+Plowman">Max Plowman</a><div class=q>
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When it's all over?'
'I shall get out and across the sea,
Where land's cheap and a man can thrive.
I shall make money. Perhaps I'll wive
In a place where there's room for a family.
I'm a bit of a rover.'

'Young so..."></div>
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