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If my soldiers were to begin to think, not one would remain in the ranks
If my soldiers were to begin to think, not one would remain in the ranks
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.
Ay me! what perils do environ
The man that meddles with cold iron!
Ay me! what perils do environ
The man that meddles with cold iron!
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.
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest,
By all their country's wishes blest!
. . . read more
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest,
By all their country's wishes blest!
. . . .
By fairy hands their knell is rung,
By forms unseen their dirge is sung.
"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.
He stands erect; his slouch becomes a walk;
He steps right onward, martial in his air,
His read more
He stands erect; his slouch becomes a walk;
He steps right onward, martial in his air,
His form and movement.
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
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.