War Lyrics dedicated to the friends of the dead. By A. and L. Shore. Second edition, with additions |
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TO OUR ARMY. |
 | War Lyrics |  |
55
TO OUR ARMY.
England's Forlorn Hope, think not your dark days
Wear on, unwatched, forgot!
No—the whole world is empty, to her gaze,
Of all but that one spot.
Wear on, unwatched, forgot!
No—the whole world is empty, to her gaze,
Of all but that one spot.
When creaming, steaming, Euxine billows leaped,
And tore in their white wrath
The ship with all our best and choicest heaped
For that bare nook of earth,
And tore in their white wrath
The ship with all our best and choicest heaped
For that bare nook of earth,
Oh, then all England wailed, as though her life
Were in that sea-sunk freight,
When the wind-curdled waters in their strife
Moaned out, “Too late, too late!”
Were in that sea-sunk freight,
When the wind-curdled waters in their strife
Moaned out, “Too late, too late!”
56
Upon your couch of rain-soaked clay there falls
No chill but stabs us through;
No wind hath torn to strips your canvas walls,
But England felt it too.
No chill but stabs us through;
No wind hath torn to strips your canvas walls,
But England felt it too.
She kneels beside the bed that sees the war
Of patient strength with death;
She stretches out clasped hands of prayer from far,
To help your struggling breath.
Of patient strength with death;
She stretches out clasped hands of prayer from far,
To help your struggling breath.
Oh well, when once you're home, we'll tend you yet,
Our brave and dear defenders!
Kind hands, mute looks, choked thanks, shall own the debt
That Love to Valour renders.
Our brave and dear defenders!
Kind hands, mute looks, choked thanks, shall own the debt
That Love to Valour renders.
The air shall tremble round you in the street
With blessings everywhere;
Sacred in each sad home is kept your seat,
More sacred when you're there.
With blessings everywhere;
Sacred in each sad home is kept your seat,
More sacred when you're there.
57
We on your hearts that star shall worship, lit
Amid the dark of war;
We know the touch of Glory kindled it—
'Tis England's signet-star.
Amid the dark of war;
We know the touch of Glory kindled it—
'Tis England's signet-star.
Like divine fragments shall the limbs be prized
Maimed in our victories,
The noble forms your souls so sacrificed,
Be holy in our eyes.
Maimed in our victories,
The noble forms your souls so sacrificed,
Be holy in our eyes.
Dim with their gaze on your brave wounds shall grow
The laughing eyes of girls,
And on your tales of war and all its woe,
Their tears be strung like pearls.
The laughing eyes of girls,
And on your tales of war and all its woe,
Their tears be strung like pearls.
When of dear friends and noble deaths you tell,
Those dancing hearts shall move
As to slow music—then for you shall swell
With a full sister's love!
Those dancing hearts shall move
As to slow music—then for you shall swell
With a full sister's love!
A. January 27, 1855.
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