A batch of war ballads By Martin F. Tupper |
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| I. |
| II. | II.
THE VAN AND THE REAR. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
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| IX. |
| X. |
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 | A batch of war ballads |  |
6
II. THE VAN AND THE REAR.
Brilliant troops in proud array,
Thrilling trumpets, rattling drums,
Colours, plumes, and pennons gay,
Helmets flashing back the day,—
In this spirit-stirring way
The gallant wargod comes!
Thrilling trumpets, rattling drums,
Colours, plumes, and pennons gay,
Helmets flashing back the day,—
In this spirit-stirring way
The gallant wargod comes!
Mangled wretches, horrors dire,
Groans and curses, wounds and woes,
Slaughter, fever, famine, fire,
Devils doing hell's desire,—
By this road of blood and mire
The cruel wargod goes!
Groans and curses, wounds and woes,
Slaughter, fever, famine, fire,
Devils doing hell's desire,—
By this road of blood and mire
The cruel wargod goes!
Spouting flame sublimely out
Batteries thunder in the Van,
Fling their glorious bolts about,
Gaily scare some rabble rout,
And wake up Moloch with a shout
In every heart of man!
Batteries thunder in the Van,
Fling their glorious bolts about,
Gaily scare some rabble rout,
And wake up Moloch with a shout
In every heart of man!
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But those murderous guns do more
Than Fury's furnace heat;
Gunner's match and cannon's roar
Rearward, red libations pour
Of limbs and lives and human gore
Around the wargod's feet!
Than Fury's furnace heat;
Gunner's match and cannon's roar
Rearward, red libations pour
Of limbs and lives and human gore
Around the wargod's feet!
And are you caught by glittering bait,
O woman-hearted Man?
Shall one mean prize of tinsel state
Outflare those bloody blanks of fate
And daub with gilt the fiends that wait
The passing of the Van?
O woman-hearted Man?
Shall one mean prize of tinsel state
Outflare those bloody blanks of fate
And daub with gilt the fiends that wait
The passing of the Van?
Turn then, poor glory-stricken fool,
Come hither to the Rear,
Where under agony's stern school
Fevers grow hot, while passions cool,
And lying in a bloody pool
Dead Glory festers here!
Come hither to the Rear,
Where under agony's stern school
Fevers grow hot, while passions cool,
And lying in a bloody pool
Dead Glory festers here!
O nothing but the strongest need
Demands a marching Van,—
For whether Right or Wrong succeed
The Rearward, where so many bleed,
Proclaims in groans that War's best deed
Is conquering Peace for Man!
Demands a marching Van,—
For whether Right or Wrong succeed
The Rearward, where so many bleed,
Proclaims in groans that War's best deed
Is conquering Peace for Man!
Therefore, in that red Rearward's spite,
Reluctantly, at length,
England has roused her lion might
And sent her Vanguard out to fight
Bound by such Need, for Peace and Right,
A threefold cord of strength.
Reluctantly, at length,
England has roused her lion might
And sent her Vanguard out to fight
Bound by such Need, for Peace and Right,
A threefold cord of strength.
| A batch of war ballads | |