 | Ballads of the War |  |
A Cry from Cape Town to Westminster
February 6th, 1900
The House is filled with barren cries
And clamour of debate—
There on the veldt a trooper lies,
Beyond all noise and hate.
And clamour of debate—
There on the veldt a trooper lies,
Beyond all noise and hate.
79
He died; but for no party cause;
One light before him shone:
His country's claim, his Queen's applause—
He left the task half done.
One light before him shone:
His country's claim, his Queen's applause—
He left the task half done.
Sick of this windy, wordy war,
The soul of England turns
To where, beneath a nobler star,
Her flag of honour burns.
The soul of England turns
To where, beneath a nobler star,
Her flag of honour burns.
Is this a time for party gain?
To Britain's Council Hall
The hundreds captive, hundreds slain,
Cry “Help us! one and all!”
To Britain's Council Hall
The hundreds captive, hundreds slain,
Cry “Help us! one and all!”
Was it for “cock-shy” or for game
Of faction—white and black—
The Great Colonial Empire came
To drive the invader back?
Of faction—white and black—
The Great Colonial Empire came
To drive the invader back?
I hear a voice from half the world:
“Cease, brothers, praise or blame,
Lest freedom from her throne be hurled,
And Peace be but a name!”
“Cease, brothers, praise or blame,
Lest freedom from her throne be hurled,
And Peace be but a name!”
| Ballads of the War | |