Tho’ our soldiers have gone at the call of the drum
To many a field afar,
Their fancy flies to the Paradise
No matter where they are.
The Green and White like a beacon light,
Upon their path has shone,
And the question slips from Celtic lips,
How Did The Boys Get On?
Tho seas divide, they think with pride
Of the team they left behind.
They are faithful still through good and ill,
They bear the Celts in mind.
So memory clings in their wanderings
To lighten a trooper’s load,
The tramp of feet down Janefield Street,
Or a vision of the London Road.
Far across the surf, they can see the turf
That came from the shamrock shore,
The team tripping out, the welcome shout,
They heard in days of yore.
They read with zest of Britain’s best
And the mighty deeds they’ve done.
When the mail comes through, one thought in view:
“Have The Good Old Celtic Won?”
(Published in The Celtic Football Guide 1942-43)