 | My Lyrical Life |  |
420
BATTLE OF THE RANK AND FILE.
'Tis a proud Story! how through mist and mire,
All facing straight for death, our fellows ran
To warm them that cold day at the Russian fire,
And fight the Soldiers' battle of Inkerman!
All facing straight for death, our fellows ran
To warm them that cold day at the Russian fire,
And fight the Soldiers' battle of Inkerman!
No time for orders; none for falling in;
They only knew their duty was to stem
The tide of onset; and their work, to win
The desperate battle—that was won by them.
They only knew their duty was to stem
The tide of onset; and their work, to win
The desperate battle—that was won by them.
It is Our Inkerman we fight to-day!
False friends behind us, worse than foes in front;
One half our Officers have run away;
The Rank and File must bravelier bear the brunt!
False friends behind us, worse than foes in front;
One half our Officers have run away;
The Rank and File must bravelier bear the brunt!
No matter where our place is on the field;
Each one must be all there, whether to stem
The tide, or stop the gap, and never yield.
The People's battle must be won by them!
Each one must be all there, whether to stem
The tide, or stop the gap, and never yield.
The People's battle must be won by them!
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