 | Ballads of the War |  |
28
At the Grave of Major Scott Turner
Kimberley, 29th November, 1899
Let the loud hills be speechless for a space,
No rifle speak, no cannon thunder loud;
A prince of manliness and soldier-grace
Lies silent in his shroud!
No rifle speak, no cannon thunder loud;
A prince of manliness and soldier-grace
Lies silent in his shroud!
And this was he who, wounded in the fight,
Laughed at the scratch, and careless of all pain
Would hide his hurt and sorrow out of sight,
And sally forth again.
Laughed at the scratch, and careless of all pain
Would hide his hurt and sorrow out of sight,
And sally forth again.
This was the man who loved us mourners well,
For our sakes led the desperate venture out,
Stormed battery after battery-mound, and fell
Dead at the fourth redoubt.
For our sakes led the desperate venture out,
Stormed battery after battery-mound, and fell
Dead at the fourth redoubt.
Let the six volleys echo o'er his grave!
With wailing blast the bugle make replies!
Others he saved, himself he would not save,
And now in peace he lies.
With wailing blast the bugle make replies!
Others he saved, himself he would not save,
And now in peace he lies.
We mourn a hero perished in his pride;
We cannot grudge the tireless warrior rest:
He served his Queen unflinchingly, and died
The death he loved the best.
We cannot grudge the tireless warrior rest:
He served his Queen unflinchingly, and died
The death he loved the best.
| Ballads of the War | |