 | English Roses |  |
A FIGHTING SONG.
Straighter yet! Close up!
If this evening we sup
With the conquerors, as is our wont;
Or are feasting instead,
With the glorious dead
And our fathers who went to the Front.
Stiffen still the red rank
On the rear and the flank,
As if England all stood in each station;
With the bullet and point,
Smash their line out of joint—
Give them hell and cold steel and damnation!
If this evening we sup
With the conquerors, as is our wont;
Or are feasting instead,
With the glorious dead
And our fathers who went to the Front.
139
On the rear and the flank,
As if England all stood in each station;
With the bullet and point,
Smash their line out of joint—
Give them hell and cold steel and damnation!
We've a battle to fight
For our country and right,
And they have but a battle to lose;
For we only go in
As the soldiers who win,
And the beaten must pay and not choose.
If we get in a rut,
The reserve is the butt,
And our blows are as stalwart as steady;
If you want to know why,
It's the powder kept dry,
With the cause and the men who are ready.
For our country and right,
And they have but a battle to lose;
For we only go in
As the soldiers who win,
And the beaten must pay and not choose.
If we get in a rut,
The reserve is the butt,
And our blows are as stalwart as steady;
If you want to know why,
It's the powder kept dry,
With the cause and the men who are ready.
| English Roses | |