<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">The Shirker</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line"><span class="smallcaps">He</span> moors the skiff within the cooler gloom</p><p class="line">Of river-branches, unaware of doom;</p><p class="line">Cushioned he lolls, and looks in faces fair,</p><p class="line">Nursing with placid hand anointed hair.</p><p class="line">It seems he scarcely can uplift the weight</p><p class="line">Of summer afternoon, far less of fate.</p><p class="line">So the young Briton, sprawling in his strength,</p><p class="line">Supports a heavy Sabbath at full length,</p><p class="line">Till sinks the sun on more than that sweet river,</p><p class="line">Perhaps upon our day goes down for ever.</p><p class="line">But though that orb may on an Empire set,</p><p class="line">Tomlinson lights another cigarette.</p></div><p class="byline">STEPHEN PHILLIPS</p><em>Daily Mail, August</em> 30, 1914</body></html> · Great War