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Ballads of the War

By H. D. Rawnsley

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A Hero of Belmont
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


22

A Hero of Belmont

November 23rd, 1899
When Britain calls the roll,
And every warrior soul
Receives his meed for help to Fatherland,
They will remember him
Who till the stars grew dim
Led straight for Belmont heights his light horse band,
Milton, the Major, whom with praise we crown,
By bravery's right, the King of the King's Own.
Through dawn of that fierce day
He cheered them to the fray,
And when in ambush fall'n his men retired,
Gave up his horse to bear
A trooper from the snare,
And calmly, though a hundred rifles fired,
Walked, as a man walks whistling o'er the heath,
From forth the zone of bullets winged with death.

23

Milton! your name we know,
Far other debts we owe
To him who bore it in the days of yore;
But in your deed there sings
Music of noble things—
The music that shall Paradise restore;
Sound of the poems only heroes make
Who dare all death, for brotherhood's sweet sake.

Note.—A telegram from the special correspondent of The Times, after describing the battle of Belmont, said:—

“Special gallantry was displayed by Major Milton, King's Own York Light Infantry. At the close of the action the Mounted Infantry he was leading fell into an ambush and fled. He supplied a trooper, whose horse had been killed, with his own, then walked away under heavy fire.”