"I cannot bear it!" said the pewter soldier. "I have shed pewter
tears! It is too melancholy! Rather let read more

"I cannot bear it!" said the pewter soldier. "I have shed pewter
tears! It is too melancholy! Rather let me go to the wars and
lose arms and legs! It would at least be a change. I cannot
bear it longer! Now, I know what it is to have a visit from
one's old thoughts, with what they may bring with them! I have
had a visit from mine, and you may be sure it is no pleasant
thing in the end; I was at last about to jump down from the
drawers."

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

See! There is Jackson standing like a stone wall.

See! There is Jackson standing like a stone wall.

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

His breast with wounds unnumber'd riven,
His back to earth, his face to heaven.

His breast with wounds unnumber'd riven,
His back to earth, his face to heaven.

Our God and soldiers we alike adore ev'n at the brink of danger; not before: After deliverance, both alike requited, read more

Our God and soldiers we alike adore ev'n at the brink of danger; not before: After deliverance, both alike requited, Our God's forgotten, and our soldiers slighted

You led our sons across the haunted flood,
Into the Canaan of their high desire--
No milk read more

You led our sons across the haunted flood,
Into the Canaan of their high desire--
No milk and honey there, but tears and blood
Flowed where the hosts of evil trod in fire,
And left a worse than desert where they passed.

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.

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