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He never saw the Bridge of Sighs
He never told a lie
He came back from the war although
He left something behind

He never had a statue but
He stood, himself, so high
He seemed to be at peace and yet
He had a troubled mind

I didn’t really know him
But I always recognised
Clancy’s pride

On Sundays by the railway-side allotments
Picking sugar snaps and watching all the steam
Gathering rhubarb for the copper pot
And fading memories for dreams

She stood beside him always
At only half his height
Their faith was strong and certain
A constant, guiding light

I know they weren’t perfect
They would stumble now and then
But they were gentle with each other’s heart
Together to the end

I didn’t really know him
But I always recognised
Clancy’s pride