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A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was a lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of read more
A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was a lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears; But a comrade stood beside him, while his lifeblood ebbed away
Each year his mighty armies marched forth in gallant show,
Their enemies were targets, their bullets they were tow.
Each year his mighty armies marched forth in gallant show,
Their enemies were targets, their bullets they were tow.
Our God and soldier we alike adore - Just at the brink of ruin not before - The danger past, read more
Our God and soldier we alike adore - Just at the brink of ruin not before - The danger past, both are alike requited; God is forgotten and the soldier slighted
Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin they think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives
Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin they think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives
The king of France with twenty thousand men
Went up the hill, and then came down again:
read more
The king of France with twenty thousand men
Went up the hill, and then came down again:
The king of Spain with twenty thousand more
Climbed the same hill the French had climbed before.
"Why me?" That is the soldier's first question, asked each morning as the patrols go out and each evening as read more
"Why me?" That is the soldier's first question, asked each morning as the patrols go out and each evening as the night settles around the foxholes.
O Dormer, how can I behold thy fate,
And not the wonders of thy youth relate;
How read more
O Dormer, how can I behold thy fate,
And not the wonders of thy youth relate;
How can I see the gay, the brave, the young,
Fall in the cloud of war, and lie unsung!
In joys of conquest he resigns his breath,
And, filled with England's glory, smiles in death.
See! There is Jackson standing like a stone wall.
See! There is Jackson standing like a stone wall.
O little Force that in your agony
Stood fast while England girt her armour on,
Held high read more
O little Force that in your agony
Stood fast while England girt her armour on,
Held high our honour in your wounded hands,
Carried our honour safe with bleeding feet--
We have no glory great enough for you,
The very soul of Britain keeps your day.