Ballads of Brave Deeds By H. D. Rawnsley. With a Frontispiece and Preface by G. F. Watts |
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A Crosthwaite Hero
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 | Ballads of Brave Deeds |  |
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A Crosthwaite Hero
IN MATABELE LAND
Trooper Abbott, of Crosthwaite, Keswick, fell with Major Wilson, Captain Borrow, and thirty-five comrades near the Shangani river, Matabeleland, 4th December, 1893, when in pursuit of Lobengula.
Trooper Abbott, when the Matabele faces
Crept up closer in their anger, your despair;
Did old Crosthwaite and its happy fellside places,
Did the Walla woods and Derwentwater fair,
Come with comfort to your prayer?
Crept up closer in their anger, your despair;
Did old Crosthwaite and its happy fellside places,
Did the Walla woods and Derwentwater fair,
Come with comfort to your prayer?
Could you see again, in flashes swift as lightning,
All the days you went so peacefully to school?
Could you feel again our April meadows brightening,
Bathe again beyond the alders in the pool,
Hear once more the bells of Yule?
All the days you went so peacefully to school?
Could you feel again our April meadows brightening,
Bathe again beyond the alders in the pool,
Hear once more the bells of Yule?
When, with louder cries and ever fiercer rushes,
You knew the ring of doom was drawing near,
When the fire-tongues flickered death from all the bushes,
And every tuft of grass became a spear,
Did a mother's face shine clear?
You knew the ring of doom was drawing near,
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And every tuft of grass became a spear,
Did a mother's face shine clear?
Did a father's voice, from where in sorrow coiling
Beside his cot the river waters run,
Bid you still, with lips made solemn by hard toiling
In all weathers from the dawn to set of sun,
Bravely end what brave begun?
Beside his cot the river waters run,
Bid you still, with lips made solemn by hard toiling
In all weathers from the dawn to set of sun,
Bravely end what brave begun?
Trooper Abbott, when the last ball cartridge sputtered,
And a broken arm beside you helpless fell,
Clear above the words your dying comrades muttered,
Loud above the Matabele's furious yell,
You could hear an “All is well!”
And a broken arm beside you helpless fell,
Clear above the words your dying comrades muttered,
Loud above the Matabele's furious yell,
You could hear an “All is well!”
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All is well for those who fearlessly press onward,
Face the foe, whate'er the issue of the fight;
Those who, dying, lift a darkened people sunward
Prove the heart that helped our England into light:
Fall, but never turn to flight.
Face the foe, whate'er the issue of the fight;
Those who, dying, lift a darkened people sunward
Prove the heart that helped our England into light:
Fall, but never turn to flight.
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