Item 02: Sydney B. Young war diary, 24 July-14 October 1916 - Page 104
ext. "Prof Beauty"
Thinkest thou there are no serpents in the world
But those that glide along the grassy sod
And sting the luckless foot that presses them?
There are those in the path of social life
Do bask their spotted skins in fortune's sun
And slay the soul.
I see thou has't pass'd sentence on my heart
And I'll no longer weep nor plead against it
But with the humblest most obedient patience
Meet thy dear hands, and kiss them when they wound me.