< Page:Poems of the Great War - Cunliffe.djvu
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Oh, A'V recruit w learning to shuut, the Boy Scout
scouteth still, — But after them all, the dons, the dojis ! — the deathless
dons do drill ! " Louvain !" is the word, and their souls are stirred;
for they think of their matchless tuns, And the ground shall be dusted ere Oxford's crusted
port shall be broached by Huns I
— Wilfrid Blair.
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