The Question

The Question written by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson

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       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.

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