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<br/>
<h2> A Song of Winter Weather </h2>
<p>It isn't the foe that we fear;<br/>
It isn't the bullets that whine;<br/>
It isn't the business career<br/>
Of a shell, or the bust of a mine;<br/>
It isn't the snipers who seek<br/>
To nip our young hopes in the bud:<br/>
No, it isn't the guns,<br/>
And it isn't the Huns—<br/>
It's the MUD,<br/>
MUD,<br/>
MUD.<br/>
<br/>
It isn't the melee we mind.<br/>
That often is rather good fun.<br/>
It isn't the shrapnel we find<br/>
Obtrusive when rained by the ton;<br/>
It isn't the bounce of the bombs<br/>
That gives us a positive pain:<br/>
It's the strafing we get<br/>
When the weather is wet—<br/>
It's the RAIN,<br/>
RAIN,<br/>
RAIN.<br/>
<br/>
It isn't because we lack grit<br/>
We shrink from the horrors of war.<br/>
We don't mind the battle a bit;<br/>
In fact that is what we are for;<br/>
It isn't the rum-jars and things<br/>
Make us wish we were back in the fold:<br/>
It's the fingers that freeze<br/>
In the boreal breeze—<br/>
It's the COLD,<br/>
COLD,<br/>
COLD.<br/>
<br/>
Oh, the rain, the mud, and the cold,<br/>
The cold, the mud, and the rain;<br/>
With weather at zero it's hard for a hero<br/>
From language that's rude to refrain.<br/>
With porridgy muck to the knees,<br/>
With sky that's a-pouring a flood,<br/>
Sure the worst of our foes<br/>
Are the pains and the woes<br/>
Of the RAIN,<br/>
the COLD,<br/>
and the MUD.<br/></p>
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