First World War Poetry Digital Archive

The Field-Postcard


Back in '15, when life was harsh And blood was hourly shed, I reassured Sir Edward Marsh So far I was not dead. My field-postcard duly arrived, It seems, at Gray's Inn Square Where Eddie, glad I still survived, Ruffled his thinning hair...

A full half century out of sight It lay securely hid Till Francis Edwards with delight Sold it for thirty quid. But who retained the copyright, The invaluable copyright? In common law I did.

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