War Songs of Britain

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A. Constable, 1903 - Всего страниц: 239
 

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Стр. 148 - And often when I go to plough The ploughshare turns them out. For many thousand men," said he, "Were slain in that great victory." "Now tell us what 'twas all about," Young Peterkin he cries; And little Wilhelmine looks up With wonder-waiting eyes; "Now tell us all about the war, And what they fought each other for.
Стр. 149 - My father lived at Blenheim then, Yon little stream hard by : They burnt his dwelling to the ground, And he was forced to fly; So with his wife and child he fled, Nor had he where to rest his head.
Стр. 183 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men...
Стр. 13 - WHEN the British warrior queen. Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought, with an indignant mien, Counsel of her country's gods. Sage beneath the spreading oak Sat the Druid, hoary chief ; Every burning word he spoke Full of rage, and full of grief.
Стр. 75 - Come as the winds come, when Forests are rended ; Come as the waves come, when Navies are stranded : Faster come, faster come, Faster and faster, Chief, vassal, page, and groom, Tenant and master. Fast they come, fast they come ; See how they gather!
Стр. 65 - Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead ! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility : But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger...
Стр. 176 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried. We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sods with our bayonets turning ; By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning.
Стр. 69 - FAIR stood the wind for France When we our sails advance, Nor now to prove our chance Longer will tarry; But putting to the main, At Caux, the mouth of Seine, With all his martial train, Landed King Harry.
Стр. 185 - ... in hot haste : the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips, — "The foe! They come! They come!
Стр. 39 - Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Wha sae base as be a slave? Let him turn and flee! Wha for Scotland's king and law Freedom's sword will strongly draw, Freeman stand or freeman fa', Let him follow me!

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