 | Ballads of the War |  |
44
A Generous Life-Guardsman
Men know me as a Coldstream Guard,
And how I lived I cannot tell;
The whisker on my face was charred,
I saw the flash and fell.
And how I lived I cannot tell;
The whisker on my face was charred,
I saw the flash and fell.
The Boer who did the dastard deed
Had wrapped his grey-white neckerchief
About his rifle—seemed to plead
So sorely for relief.
Had wrapped his grey-white neckerchief
About his rifle—seemed to plead
So sorely for relief.
I thought or Boer or Briton, all
A cry for help can understand.
I could not talk his catawaul,
And so I reached a hand—
A cry for help can understand.
I could not talk his catawaul,
And so I reached a hand—
When, swift as lightning, lo! he brought
His rifle round, and straight let fly;
I, swifter still, as swift as thought
Ducked, and the ball went by.
His rifle round, and straight let fly;
I, swifter still, as swift as thought
Ducked, and the ball went by.
Then with my bayonet parrying free
I dashed his rifle stock in two;
And talked in British language he
Seemed quite to feel was due.
I dashed his rifle stock in two;
And talked in British language he
Seemed quite to feel was due.
45
“You murdering, treacherous cur!” I cried.
God grant me pardon, how I swore;
I cursed till heart was satisfied
And breath could curse no more.
God grant me pardon, how I swore;
I cursed till heart was satisfied
And breath could curse no more.
Quite at my mercy, gaunt and grim,
There lay the wounded, tattered man.
He looked at me—I looked at him—
And Pity through me ran.
There lay the wounded, tattered man.
He looked at me—I looked at him—
And Pity through me ran.
I gave my flask and, mad with thirst,
He clutched it with a fevered grip,
Then motioned me to drink it first
And pledged me fellowship.
He clutched it with a fevered grip,
Then motioned me to drink it first
And pledged me fellowship.
Forth from his bleeding breast he drew
A picture of a child and wife,
His tears rained down, and well I knew
How sore he needed life.
A picture of a child and wife,
His tears rained down, and well I knew
How sore he needed life.
I smiled and nodded, and he smiled,
He seemed to know what words I meant,
And so I bore him like a child
Back to the doctor's tent.
He seemed to know what words I meant,
And so I bore him like a child
Back to the doctor's tent.
Note.—At one of the battles of the Relief Column on its way to Kimberley, a guardsman went forward to succour a wounded Boer who had put up a white flag. The Boer fired on him at close quarters, but the bullet missed its billet. The gallant guardsman disarmed his treacherous enemy, and took him back to the hospital tent.
| Ballads of the War | |