The English Infantry is the most formidable in Europe, but
fortunately there is not much of it.
[Fr., read more

The English Infantry is the most formidable in Europe, but
fortunately there is not much of it.
[Fr., L'infanterie anglaise est la plus redoubtable de l"Europe;
heureusement, il n'y en a pas beaucoup.]

Terrible he rode alone,
With his yemen sword for aid;
Ornament it carried none
read more

Terrible he rode alone,
With his yemen sword for aid;
Ornament it carried none
But the notches on the blade.

See! There is Jackson standing like a stone wall.

See! There is Jackson standing like a stone wall.

Back of the boy is Wilson,
Pledge of his high degree,
Back of the boy is Lincoln,
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Back of the boy is Wilson,
Pledge of his high degree,
Back of the boy is Lincoln,
Lincoln and Grant and Lee;
Back of the boy is Jackson,
Jackson and Tippecanoe,
Back of each son is Washington,
And the old red, white and blue!

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.

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

A thousand leagues of ocean, a company of kings,
You came across the watching world to show how heroes read more

A thousand leagues of ocean, a company of kings,
You came across the watching world to show how heroes die.
When the splendour of your story
Builds the halo of its glory,
'Twill belt the earth like Saturn's rings
And diadem the sky.

The knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;
His soul is with the saints, I read more

The knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;
His soul is with the saints, I trust.

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.