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Les diagrammes suivants lllustrent la mtthode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 MKXOCOrV MSOUITION TBT CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHAUT No. 2) ^ /^PLIED IM/GE Inc II- '65J Eail Main Stnit (716) ♦« - 0300 - PhonT^ "** (7I«) 2M - 59M - Fox Poems and Songs ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. AN ANTHOLOGY FROM ENGLAND, AFRICA, AIVSTRALIA, UNITED STATES BUT CHIEFLY CANADA. COLLECTED BY REV. J. DOUGLAS BORTHWICK. IL D MONTREAL. 1901 Mb 1- y 4i)2n printed bv The Gazette Publishing Co. montreal. \i I DEi. TCATION ■^ ' HiN Ex.lLI.E.\( V Tin Ki.uiT Uox,mAHi,E L.,j,„ Mixt,,. ("•VERNOR-tJKNEHAI. or Canaim. Mv Lord, h give. ,.,e nuch pleasure in vour Lonkhin kin i. ."K.0 allow thin tnaly national an.i patrioti,- ..^ ' »<'nd'y -«.•„,. over thi« I>on,i„ion (but «o .... n v ^^^ ," r f' ''""'" '■''^•""»' H'>n,ewl,at, the original c-opy ). '' ^'"""'"^ *^"'»'' '''»*'^«1 fanmlian. will „ot forge, „,« em-r^v and heln uh!.. our l.t Contingent wa. sent to the So,^. tfl '"" ^"' *''*•" wa«.li.played when the 2na and U. '' s "" ^'^T' " '""' ^"'•'" same destination '^trathcona Ilo«"- I remain, MONTREAI., March, 1901. Your obedient servant, J. DOUGLAS BORTHVVICK, LL.D. PREFACE. IN th.8 colloctioi. will be found a great varietv „f P and fn.m almct every part o( t^l T? . "'"* '*'"»' world "'^''"'' "'**''"'« "»''<""• of ll'« to the public the l-t«.* . . ' "* ^y "^ '^"'"K- -"^ring MoNTHKAL, March, IDOI. J. DOUiiLAS BORTHWICK. POEMS AND SONGS ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. THE UNION JACK. If 8 only a small piece of bunting. It's only an old coloured rag- Yet thousands have died for Its 'honour And shed their best blood for the fl^. "' ^l^w'^ ''*"' '^'^ ^'•°" °' St- Andrew. Which of old. ScoUand's heroes have led- It carries the Cross of St. Patrick For which Ireland's bravest have bled Joined with these, on our own English ensign. St George's red Cross on white field Round Which from King Richard to Wolsley Britons conquer, or die, but ne'er yieid '' It flutters in triumph o'er ocean As free as the wind and the wave; And bondsman from shackles unloosed Neath Its shadows no longer a slave. It floats over Cyprus and Malta, A J^'^L ^°*''*' ""« '"«**««• Hong Kong- And Britons where'er their flagT^flyin^' Claim the righte which to Britons^elong We hoist It to show our devoUon •Ti.Th °"' *^"^°' t° o*"- •country and laws; Tls the outward and visible emblem Of advancement and liberty's cause. You may say It's a small bit of bunting Yet freedom has made it maJesUc And time has ennobled the Flag. Anon. POEMS AND SONGS The following lines by J. Sheppard wore copied br the Author when in London in 1888. Being in Wapping, on the Tunnel stain »t that sUtion, and there waiting for the underground raUwajr— amongst hundreds of other inscriptions— his eye caught the fol- lowing words, very applicable to the present day of " THE BRITISH EMPIRE." What though the Powers, the world doth hold. Were all against us met. We have the might, they felt of old, and England's England yet; The flags that wared o'er many a rout. From many a conquered wall, For England shall again float out Triumphant 'ere it fall; Up English hearts, up English hands, Up for your homesteads and your lands. ENQLAND. England is England!— though not " merrie * still, Matchless In pow^; supreme her dauntless will; Bending to none but Him, whose will ia hers; Using her strength, alone when He avers. England is England!— and her sons will fight. To shield her banner and uphold her right; Though for her lore, her loyal soldiers spill Their best heart's blood— England is England sUll! England is England! she will guard her own; And make her power felt, sa it is known. Courage brave sons!— she knows the British heart!— Beyond its life, no more can love impart, England Is England! she will make It known. The cause of every Briton Is her own— Her noble sons shall tread the path she trod— ? England Is England! Yea— and God U Ood! Amy KIngsIand Pennington, Halifax, N.S. ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. DEATH SONG OF THE BOERS. Lay my rifle here beside me. aet my Bible on my breaat For a moment let the walling bugles cease; ' " As the century is closing, I am going to my rest- Lord, lettest Thou Thy servant go In peace But loud through all the bugles rings a cadence in mine ear And on the winds, my hopes of peace are strow d- Of the rooi-baatje singing on the road. Yes. the redcoats are returning; I can hear the steady tramp. After twenty years of waiting, lulled to sleep. Since rank and file at Potchefstrom we hemmed them in their camp. And cut them up at Bronkerspruit like sheep. They shelled us at Ingogo, but we galloped Into range And we shot the British gunnera where they showed- Hark! The rooi-baatje singing on the road! ^"*FZ',n" y-'"'^^'- C»"««i«. from India's torrid plains nK.^ v°°* Australian outposts, hither led: The men in brown have Joined the men in red. ThTl» ?' "^ '^'°^"' ** ^J"** '«" and lost. An/r h^ * to pay us back the debt they owed; .i.H*^ "''' ^°*'*" "'^' *"'» ^ ^ -Grange colo« tossed Mid tHe rooi-baatje singing on the road. """'iTekr^U fi'^S.' H.T "'"'"■= *^* °"^' "'«' ^^^^J" must fall- T>. Jl ° "*® ****'**°t murmur low- The old. old order changes, and 'tis vain for us to rail And veldt, and spruit, and kopje to the »trang»r w^^ll belong No more to trek before him we shall loS Ott "^ :t ' ""•*" "• '°' ^ bear uiX song Of the rooi-baatje singing on the road. From "The Telephone." Cape Town. 10 POEMS AND SONGS ON BEING STYLED " PRO-BOER," Friend, call me what you will; no Jot care I- I that shall stand for England till I die. England! The England that rejoiced to see Hellas unbound, Italy one and free- The England that had tears for Poland's doom And m Ler heart for all the world made room; The England from whose side I have not swerved- The ImmorUl England whom I too have served Accounting her all living lands above. In justice and In mercy and In love. New York Sun. THE RALLY. They said, ' Sh* is old. this England- Old and her children few, And scattered far at the ends of earth Each with his work to do. Each thinking only of self and pelf. And no one thinking of her— Shall we call the pack— her hands are full- Shall we bite— she cannot stir!" Did she cry for help, our England? What need had she to call— The yell of snarling hounds went forth. And was heard by her children all- Sons and their sons and their children's sons, Prom the white to the torrid zone; Britannia's brood, blood of her blood And ne of her very bone! See, from the fields of old England, The children about her knee, And see from Scotland's heather hills. The free sons of the free. And see from Ireland's huts and halls Bravest they of the brave— The empire that their hands have built. Her loyal sons shall save! ON THE WITH AFRICAN WAR. II Canadians, straight as the pine trees. That pierce the new world's sky— They dream of an Isle they have not seen. And proudly for It would die! And see how under the Southern Cross Australia's sons stend forth— Yes, mark how the needle of loyalty Points steadfast to the North! Prom the East and the West, the Indies And Isles of the farthest sea. No son of the blood but hears aiid a^ks ' Has the Mother need of me'' And the yelpings cease, the cringing hounds Show now neither fang nor tongue- They said. ' This England is old and weak ' And IQ, she Is strong, she is young! ' We of the self-same birthright, One blood, one spirit, one 'speech- This to our brothers, who light to-day For the rights of all and each— From the Cape whose name is prophecy Northward your feet are bent And above your banners we read. ' Good Hope ' *or a darkened continent. Daniel M. Henderson. Baltimore. U.S.A. THE BRITON. From Heremon we claim descent- His bride King David's daughter. Who from the Holy Land was sent To Erin o'er the water. . Since then the Norman and the Dane The Teuton and the Frenchmen ' Co»Ir1 T' '"^' '^'"^ "-"^ the strain Come sturdy British henchmen. Ch'«ru8 — ^"""^iu^^"' ""■ ^^^ '"°°'' «°d birth With pedigree to fit on The isles and ccntinente of earth. The freedom-loving Briton. 12 POEMS AND SONGS The llbertlM our fathers won We'll grant to eTery nation. Till peace and Juatlce, like the aun, Shall shine o'er all creation. We seek no conquest to oppress. Or trample on a foeman; And blest ourselves, we seek to bless With enmity to no man. Chorus — Thus Celt and Teuton, Norman. Danfe AnA^T ^"^^ """ "'°"*' '^°°» ocean. And fan upon the earth like rain To set the crops In motion. No Cadmus crop of armed bands To meet in strife infernal But loving hearts and willing hands Chorus- "'^ "*''' ^'' '^* *'«"•»'• Carroll Ryan, Montreal. TREKKING. (Song of the Boer Woman.) But the doer of the veldt is closed-is closed » wkT to more? v.woou is closed!— Where can we trek ON THK SOCTH AKKJfAX WAR. 13 T,,«...l ,„«,„., ^tt„., ..»„.„.»»,, ,„„„„„.J^ are strong— ciosed— the doors of our heart '""'l^To^ZZ' '"' ^ '^ ''^''-•' '^-'-'^^ - to the For the land Is ours!!^" ,!!!^ ^""^ ^°"'' '^'""^ '''"h and will- John Jerome Rooney. m New York Sun. MACDONALDS SWORD »«!irir^^"r.'-r^ ""' — ' •"- .. <>„-». survived Majuba Hill wh«ra k?^ ' "^^ °°® °' t*'* offlcers who ^ wore had been pi^^f^* i\7",**';f P'-'-oner. The swor* When he won his «CS^ iLaZrf I T °' '''« «>="«"y to that effect. The BoeTl^e" noU^Tt . """' "^^ *°«'^^«°« arms and brought It back tTMrcil^TtlmTZ" '"'" «»"«''''«'*d man who had won such a s^r^K^^ ..'^ * *'*" *** ^««'' "• « » Gen. Macdonald sUU te^te tJIstoif ^ °*** '^ '^'^'*^«* '^-^ «. gentlemen. * "^""^ ""> «ys that those men were T.. »jn,^.„ ,„ ^ » <„, ,.^ ^„, ^^^ ,__ ^^ __^ ^^ the dust! "wuniain. Her flag we'd trailed in Ah, many a comrade lyln* ntni «» *v . We envied with bitter L^,^^! would oT' "i"*'"'' S-3eter were death than capture Xt^wr/f' ?"" '''^• T.e Shame that our pride had yielded tt,r, eCse^amr ^' 14 I'OKAIS AX1> mSiiS .i The camp fire shone on our captors, those men of the relctt and farms; Sombre, rugged, uncultured, unskilled (save In use of arms). Straight from the plough and the sowing they had shouldered' thatr roers for the flght. And we bad gone down before them— gone down in our well-drilled might! Oh. well might they look with triumph upon our grim despair As slowly within the red light we filed befora them there. And our captain gave his sword up-(lts blade to-night was dim) The sword his comrades gave to show their pride in him. He gave it up in silence, but we who know his heart Could guess the wild regretting, the aching pain and smart; To yield his sword Is an anguish that cuts a man full sore,' And his wore a sting still keener, for he gave it up to a Boer. And they took it, too. In silence, that sternly quiet band. And read of honour thftt won It aa they passed It from hand to hand. And then they turned to us, sUnding still In the dust and the glow, With our thoughts up there on the mountain and black In our hearts the woe, They spoke In our English language, their words were few and plain. "We take not the sword of a brave man '—and they handed it back again. That night when the stars were glinting above the camp Are flare, As we lay around In the shadows, and the Boers with their guns watched there. Our captain spoke to us shortly: " Men, we have lost the day; Yet I hold we are not dishonoured, whatever the world may say; To yield to a foe Ignoble Is a true cause for shame. To souls small and ungenerous, no matter their race or name; Our flag has gone down on Majuba, our pride Is stricken sore; But we've learnt that our foe is worthy, although that foe be a Boer." Many a sun o'er Majuba since then has risen and set; Many a year has fleeted since Boer and soldier met. The winds of this life have scattered them, scattered them wide and far; The men who came down from the mountain, carried a heart-deep •car. ._ JfL^*^ ^"^'T" AFRICAN WAR. 15 word. ^ °' "'^ ^'^'•' >"»• contemptuou. For ,on. as our me U with u.. we",, remc:nber Macaoaa.ds sword- H. M. Bromley. Bloemfontein. South African News AMERICAN POEMS 70 ENGLAND. MOTHER ENGLAND. the views':;: Z7:izz tr f r "^ ■ ^""-•- ^^ ^p-- most widely e,rcu?a,edTat IT^, San% ^''V ^""" ' '" ^»'« St. Ix>uls. and has great Influere xLn ""^"'"^^^ ^'"l weat of speaking people all over the worW 11!^^*'" '"^ ^°«f'"''»- a» It expresses emanated fro Jan 11.^'' * "' ""'*^ Bentlments California. " "^ Amerlcaa writer in Southern Vour Scolt. your BurL^r Jh.J^ " "* "»•"»-«'••■ '- «. ..o.„y .o,„ o, .,, ji.i'r.:»",rr IH P0EM8 AND 80N08 Mother England!— ll«tlier England!— Lo— your aona from tea to Bear the e^ual acalea of JusUce and the lamp of Liberty; Only tiea of loye can bind them— strong aa ateel but soft aa ailk— Tor they sucked the love of freedom with their English mother- milk. Mother England!— Mother England!— If ail Europe rise and roar. We will meet them— we will beat them, on the sea and on the shore; Then our sUlwart Anglo-Saxons, side by side, on land and sea. Will march on and sail together to one world-wide destiny- Bearing still the scales of Justice and the lamp of Liberty. Mother England!— Mother England!— here la heart and hand with thee! For Albion's blood is in our veins— and Saxons too. are we ; One history, one destiny, one God, one tongue, one aim- To bear the torch of Freedom round the shackled world aflame. « H. L. O., Lob Angeles, U.S.A. Pi WAITING. Under an alien sky I keep my vigil. While with winged footstep glides the listening night. And far *rom this white coast in moonlight sleeping, A world afar the Empire's soldiers flght. I, a girl exile, hopeless waif of Empire, I could not cheer one soldier on his way ; I had no gold to give, I could not even Hang out my own dear flag to greet the day. Wher^ quiet fields swam to my eyelids smarting. No echo of the shouting, reached my ear ; I could not see them In their pride, departing. Nor the glad tumult clustering at the pier. Yet, oh my Empire, under your flag's floating. My deeper love, remembers you to-night ; And faith climbs closer to the veiled to-morrow- To-morrow shall not victory " tell the flght ? " Elizabeth Carter, N. Jersey, U.S.A. _?^E^THAFR^A,V WAR AMERICA TO ENGLAND. O Motherland, we hope wJth thee That «x,„ triumphant thou wm tie- w«« , .. ^*'" Conqueror. B»l for th« rnirt,, ;,„,„ Vet did they die m peace. B. eveA^&^-h 1-- ur Liberty. Wchtonr We hope With thee • On Afrlc-aalopes our hearts wi„5e. Until the end. The blood of ancient Britain ni. We hear the war cry and th k "" °'"" ^®*'"- And pray with thee. ^or Britain's ,0';";; T '''"'' °"°' That yet Shall nve^SJ.""*™^*' WUhV;rot^l-««'«''>e.trewn Denman S. Wa«ti.» 1 . 18 POEMH AND 8fJN08 1 i i I I UNDISHBARTBNBD. StMdx, England, on the left flank- On tl|« right flank form again: Maaa your columna on the centre; SUnd to coloura, Bngllahmen ! Bngland'a Emplce baa not fallen. Though a thouaand men are alaln ;• Tet a thouaand timea a thouaand " Rule BriUnnia " ahall malnuin. Ajra, a the -««nd tlmea a thouaand Uvea I 'e welcomed aacriflce. Thua to W.4. and bold and cherlah Bngland'a Empire— paid the price. Checked and baffled, yet undaunted, See the conquering flag unfurled ; Herald-enalgn of the tardy * " Federation of the World." Steady, England, undlaheartened, SUll the "Thin Red Line" remalna Rally • Rally to the reM:ue ! Let the end wipe out the itaina. Heed not hungry, waiting vulturea ; Let them hover, yet forbear. For the Lion atiU Is monarch— And our Eagle watches there. Mark, Columbia is neutral. Friendlier than the watchful three ; Walt : Britannia and Columbia With a hand-clasp span the sea. By the paths we trod together, By the blood that mingled then ; By the charter-rights we wrested By the mother-tongue of men ; OHTOTaOOTH AFRICAN WAH. 19 By the rtcbt that wu tatcHt By the pluck that won our own By th« tin that bind all k(ndr«|— ' By " then fruit. " both may be known. By the darkneaa diaalpatcd. By the battle* abe haa fouf ht. By the realma emancipated. By the provre.. .he haa wrought By the bulwarka baaed on manhood, Br the torch of freedom borne By th^ teata that make an Empire Bntlanda glor> la unahorn. By the light that ahlnea In darkneaa Len. to pierce the future'a veil, ■ iL. {'."I""*" """'• prophetic, Bn«» id a Empire ahall prevail. Steady, England, on the left flank • v^:^* ''*»'** ''"* '«"«• awin • Tuh '«J^:T "" ""•'' "•'^"tr^ irlah, Scotch and Engllahmen ! J- H. J. In " The Worceater Spy.' ODE TO BRITANNIA. ^ M.« ..d to C0B,C1..„ ^, „ .„,„ ^^ ^^^ Bfl, « J8 the Lord-8 command. ao WEMS AND SONGS In ezcelslB gloria, Hlbernla, Victoria ! Evermore the tyrants vile the deadly charge will fear; Of Erin's sons whose trusty steel does drive the foes before them. For freedom's cattse, and Britain's name, and home, and all things dear. Iho' even In these present days of liberty and right. And peace, enjoyed In English speaking lands: The cry still rings In other lands, aloud, for light, - To stand against oppression's base commands. In excelsls gloria. Canada. Australia ! And all Britannia's children, in every land or clime, Thy fealty and thy daring so gallantly defending. The sacred cause of freedom, will be lauded for all time. J. C. Collins, Chicago. POEMS ON THE WAR. hi "SPARTAN MOTHERS." " One more embrace, then, o'er the main ^ And nobly play the soldier's part." Thus speaks, amid the martial strain. The Sparton mother's aching heart She bides her woe. She bids him go. And tread the path his fathers trod. "Who fights for England, fights for God." Helpless to help, she waits, she weeps. And listens for the far-off fray. He scours the gorge ; he scales the steeps. Scatters the foe — Away ! Away ! Feigned is their flight. Smite ! again smite. How fleet their steeds ! How nimbly shod ! She kneels, she prays: " Protect him, God ! " w ^^!>fj«!- I ■>?" 'l^.f tJ -^fK3^:Jm¥^. m^ '^wi^mm Oy THE SOUTH AFRICAX WAR. The Bisters sigh, the malden'B tear The wlfe-8. the widow's stifled wall These nerve the hand, these brace the spear • And speed them over veldt and vale. What is to him. Or life or limb. Who rends the chain, and breaks theVod, Who falls for freedom, falls for God. And should It be his happy fate »>, "*,',! !° 'Jf" '° *"*"»« and rest. She Will be siding at the gate To fold him to her trembling breast. Or should he fall. By ridge or wall— Who H? T'^ """^ *"■**" «°"^hern sod. Who dies for country, sleeps with God. Alfred Austin. Poet Laureate of Great Britain. •Jl " THE EMBLEMS IN 1900." Said the Rose : With u V """u ""■*"'*' "^y P*^'" «*eet With a deeper bloom than for years We't wlth^H ""'T ^'^ *"'•"' ""«* ^««t. Wet with dew from the Empire's tears." Said the Thistle : M„«t S *y '"■'"'*' ""« bayonets hright Mu stand out with new force and pride Whilst a purple pall I spread over ali Who as heroes fall side by side." Said the Shamrock • Fm m^&'mrA^^^:w. I is 22 POEMS AND SONGS The deepened hue in the ruby's sheen The fuller tone In the amethyst's gem. The richer sparkle In emerald green, Will give to the crown on our monarch's brow An added lustre, a greater charm ; Whilst the Empire's tears tall thick and warm And burnish the ruby, the purple, the green. In the circlet of gold that is worn by our Queen. E. B. M. t f J' 1" THE VOICES. • Do you know the meaning of it. why the anxious nations pause. Pause and listen tc che voices muttering near ? Why the aching eyes are watching for the shifting of the flaws, As the hovering clouds upon them drift and veer ? Yea. we know the meaning of it, but the issue no man knoweth. For the darkness hides our faces from the day. And the fever In our bosoms like a smouldering fire gloweth While the mothers of the nations wait and pray ; Spare our sons, O Lord, and grant us peace ! Thus the mothers of the nations silent pray. Can we know the reason for it, why the nations anxious wait ' Why they choose to drink the wormwood and the gall Why the vengeful souls are burning, swelling, cankered with their hate. Why we cannot read the writing on the wall » Yea, we know the reason for it, 'tis the pent-up brute within us Grinds our faces in the darkness and the dust ; And we waver in the blackness as the brutish voices win us Whispering stripe for stripe and thrust for thrust And the echo never dies, but answers ever— Eye for eye and tooth for tooth and thrust for thrust Oh, the dread, the pity of it ; Oh, the victims of the strife- Oh. the mighty tools of Death that mar the main ' ' Though the voices whisper louder: Thrust for thrust and life for life Let us pause and count the richness of our gain Though our souls grow dull and weary as the nations war together Let us pause and strive to pierce the dusky veil ; ONTHE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. 23 Tho«.bth. .car. „e onward fleet.n, and we cannot ^p the fther. Let n. «k whr .Ulned and bloody ,. their trail. Like the prophet, of a deaf and sleeping Baal. Frank Call. Frellghaburg, Que. BOUND YET FREE. Bealde a running mountain stream A poplar tall and fair, Held rule supreme, and none around Might her high offlce share ; For e'en the roaring waters owned That she was empress there ;— And right across (he rolling stream Her graceful shadow threw To where upon the other bank An offshoot poplar grew. Whose roots were Intertwined with hers. That nought could part the Uo. Now. like the poplar, Britain stands. And she is ocean's queen, How proudly does she bear the name And rightly, too, I woen, While proud are we and close we cling Though waters roll between ; So we who grow from out her r^ts Will cling to her through all — Should need arise. Britannia knows We'd follow at.her call Resolved to stand as Britain stands! To fall, could Britain fall. Ethelwyn. 24 POEMS AND SONGS WHO'S THAT CALLING ? Who's that calling ? It cones from far away, The voice of a brother o'er the sea, It says : " Am I a stranger, That you leave me In danger. Oh, my brothers, will you stretch a hand to me ? Send us the flag ! The red cross flag ! Send us the banner that we love ! We long for it, we sigh for It, To live for it, to die for It— Ood save the Red Cross flag ! " Who's that calling ? It comeS) from far away. The voice of a brother in the West, " We are loyal, we are true. We are flesh and blood of you. We are coming with our bravest and our best Bearing the flag. The red cross flag. Bearing the banner that we love. And is It stormy weather ! Then we sink or swim together. God save the Red Cross flag ! " J*' Who's that calling ? It comes from far away, A voice from the far Pacific main, " And shall we be behind When the banner's In the wtnd. And the old game is playing once again ? We're for the flag. The red cross flag. We're for the flag that is our own. Do J ou ask a heart to care for it ? A hand to do and dare for it ? God save the Red Crosb flag ! " ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. 2S Who's that calling ? ' The old sea-mother calls, In her pride at the children that she bore t " Oh, ijoble hearts and true, ' There is work for us to do. And we'll do it as we've don« it oft before. Under the flag. The red cross flag. Under the flag our fathers bore ; They died in days gone by for it. As we will gladly die for it, Ood save the Red Cross flag ! " A. Oonan Doyle, " London Daily News." THE OLD COLORS. baWe With*" ni oT '° J'!'"""^' ''* ^'■'"•'*' ^••"y »>" "'^••ehed into battle with no colors at its head. They have been Mt »t h«J« •ometlme, hung in churches and cathedrals rre ,o,LLT«« verse, from "The London Outlook " are in reference tHhTs ffct _ That rent is Talavera. that patch is Inkerman. Bu???fnf ""^J^ * *"""''■*'' ""'"*« *•»« »'«"'« "-"und them ran- S«„r.„ "V^'^ '"*"*"'■• ^''^y *•» °°t «<> to-day : Hang them above as a link of love where the women come to pray. !°t^k T""'"^ °' '"* '""*""■ *° *»•« ^*J« °' Al Rashed I t«,k Jhem away from a boy who lay in a ring of th; dying- ?hf ilnli* "t 'Ty " """"^ = ^^^''-b^t his hand held this \^:Z\tr'' " ^'^ '""'' °' ''' «"--> ■? ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN War. 27 The corn-seed dies to yield the ear. By Death cornea Ufe in higher sphere, F««r not to die » The beat we give Shall rear the best— die we, or live— Aa fall the heroea of our race That we might live to fill tLelr place. God la not mocked ! His Law shall run. His cl/ariot wheels are rolling on. Who dares to atay them ? Let us stand To clear the path— a steadfast band. As we have dealt, In ages past. Oh, Lord ! deal Thou with us, at last : " London Chronicle." THE SITUATION. See Britannia'a wandering brocJ Call'd from various realms afar. Staunch of heart, and Mern of mood, Mustering In the pomp of war .' What stirs the Sea-Queen's blood to-day ? Why marshals she her proud array ? Not for desert pasUme these. With their flx'd and flaming eyes • Not in sport they crosa'd the seas. Dar'd the glare of Afrlc's skies • Why, then, do the bold roamers come To camp and trench, from hearth and hone ? Heard ye not that ruthless men. While the sated Lion slept. Tow'rd her lone, unguarded den. Over veldt and kopje crept. Intent, while yet supine she lay! To bear a weanling cub away ? But behold the spoiler's hand Scarce had touch'd the straggling limb. When amid that robber band Rose the Lion stark and grim • And with a roar of rage and pride' Summon'd her ofTspring to her side fi 28 POEMS AND SONGS These are they : regard them well ; Blanch'd of snowe, and bronz'd with sun : Needless here the tale to tell Of the deeds that race hath done. Now In good sooth the Boer will feel A foeman worthy of his steel. What must, then, the Issue be ? * Will the raider backward crawl ? Nay ; too late to turn and flee— One must sUnd. and one must fall And 'gainst the might of fang and claw What can avail yon spears of straw ? Robert Reld, Montreal. lif^ I i CANADIAN SONS OP OUR GREAT EMPIRE. ^•t:Zrl "' *'' ''■^'"' Leat-Prayr excuse, if you """'liZ."""" "'"'' ""*" '•"•°' ^'"'•'•»'- SO- o' Our Great Chorus. For. could I own the Earth. I'd count it nothing worth Tin on ev'ry hand, I saw the grand ' Old British Flag on high. They have titled Our LnT" The Ladv ,t" ""' •T'"""*^''' '° '"°»«- ■ tousd our ire. ^ °' ^'"''^^' *'»''=»' ^^^^ almost As a biessm.. Snow comes to Canadian Sons of Our Great Empire. ' Chorus. ON THK SOUTH AFBICAN WAR. 211 O! Our beautiful Land. U. ,r«t and If. grand. tU the be.t oa isartn; •Ti. a haven of health, and ita mineral wealth doth attest Ita worth Just gaze on our llmitleaa grain-bearing fields, which are all that our farmera desire, Golden grains golden funds for Canadian Sons of Our Great Empire. Chorus. Song> of triumph well ralae, to honour and praise, (till life expires., f hey who ought, and bled, where duty led. Our Conqrlng Sire Like them too well tight, and Britannia's foe smite, with the olrt^ time vigour and fire. Till he dies, yields, or runs from Canadian Sons of Our Great Empire. Chorus. For-A« true British subjecU we were born. So true British subjects will we die. For could we own the Earth. We'd count it nothing worth, Till, on ev'ry hand, we saw the grand Old British Flag on high. Drum-Major W. R. Boyd. 5th Royal Scots of Canada, Montreal. THE VOLUNTEER. The man's volte broke as he gently spoke To the mother-eyes serene; Yours to command, and yours to love. In past days I have been. And yours with love I always am, Though seas may roll between; Not yours, this year, to command, my 5ear. For I've sworn to serve the Queen. Yet ere he went where the Queen has sent. Her servants brave and free. He spoke a word for a maid to hear. And he now belongs to three; Three who shall guide where'er he roves. On the veldt or on the sea. Who pray to-night for our soldier bright. His mother, the Queen, and me. Clytie. 3U I'OiiMS AND SONUS f! r ! i. ! DBFUNCB TO TUK POEI To the Canadian Tranavaal Contingent. Embark, sail hence. Canadian lada. like Britlahem of yore- 8p«ed on. a Btrong true-hearted band, to tace the unjust ilOer. ' When danger lurka galnat Motherland who aald that you were "^"^ mt^k''; ''''*° "'"*" ""^ "^ •''*''•• '*"'' "^ """^ •*«« *«" Now lefB unite In strength and might, and thu. the ..Htionn .how That every voice In thta land blda defiance to the foe! ' In daya of yore bold Britons bled for freedom dearly bought; "uujhr' ^''* °° ^""'^ ■""* *''^* '"*''■ "^'*' "•* **»"' ^''^y That when our day of duty came, wed watch with jealous care The foes that stand menacing Britain's Empire, now so fair! That every voice In ihU land bids deflance to the foe! Au<>n. f I FRIENDLY VOICE FROM NOR WAV. The following verses, translated from a longer rhyme in Nor- wegian, are addressed to Britannia's 'ea^le.' by Krlstofer Randera" You now meet with disaster on field after field. Your warriors have fallen and died, And the ocean you rule is of no help to you. Where your soldiers now fight side by side; And they all. watch their chance, they who wish for your fall Just because your great power them defies And from Seine, Rhine, and Neva, and Spree can be heard A chorus of threatening cries. ' But you stand there as firm as a rock 'gainst the storm All lashed by the spray and the foam; And there fell not one leader, nor sounded one voice Breathing doubt or despair in your home. No-<:almly you answered: We have but commenced. And by Patience we'll win our reward. Though a year shall pass by. and the century's dawn Be hailed by the clash of the sword! ON THIS SOUTH AFRICAN WAR I 31 THIS CANADA OF OURa. In Canada, the fi-Mdom. Which Britona lore ao well, Fllla every heart with gladneaa Makea evety boaom awell. So, ralM aloft your Tolcei! Invoke the heavenly powera To uieaa our fair Dominion,— Thla Canada of oura! Chorua— Then raiae aloft your volcea! Invoke the heavenly powera To bleaa our fair Dominion,— Thla Canada of ours! In Canada, the toller Ha« Bcope for honeut toll. Her watera, plalna and foreata, Her mlnee below the aoll. Send forth their bounteoue harreata- While aunihlne, froau and ahowera cnaae oer our vaat Dominion,— Thla (>nada of oura. Chorua— In Canada, we firmly Stand up— aa Britona ahould,- Tne foremoat In the cauae of right Of truthfulnesa and good. And when our gracious Sovereign Needs to Increase her powera She confldenUy. then, can trust Thle Canada of oura. Chorus — Jamea Cranteahaw, B.C.L., Montreal. m CANADA'S GIFT. The Ohrlstmaa bells ring out again tSI t, ^. ^*'^ '^oxxnA^tt from afar The tumult of a mighty war. lb PUEMH AND H0N(J8 O mother England o'er the Ma ! Thy dauchteri ChrJiimaa gjft to thee 1« xtrong men armed for the Kmpire lervlng To ibow my loyalty unawervlng. My land la rich In aUlwart sona. I've picked for thee my cholceat onea • Thoee without blemish In my eyea. Of them I make the aaf riflce. I give the beat I have to give, I aend them forth— to die or live— Forth. Where the flrea of war are burning I •P«Bk no word of the lada returning. Dlaheartenlng rumora still are rife. Come sickening talea of loaa of life : Long, long grows BrlUlns roll of fanie With many a loved and cherished name Of heroes who win never come To hear their countrya welcome home! We thrill to the martial deeds, with wonder. All honor to thoee who sleep out yonder ! There must, there shall be victory ! But till there comes that glorious day I wait with fears I cannot tell. I loved my lads so well, so well Ood reat the feet that dare not tire Ood guide the eyea that look through flr*. Steady the hands— until the story Rings round the world to BriUln'a glory. Mrs. Effle I. Forater, Toronta i s : li li ' I;) 1; f "A NEW POWER IN THE WORLD." heZ^rZ lZ\T:"' """1"'^' '''' "••**'« °' ^'^°^^' When ne learned from the bravery of our Boys in the field, a new power had^arlsen in the West. "-Ringing word, from the l/p. TpZZ "A new Power has arisen in the West." Triumphant hath Ita rapid progreee been. Betwixt the Seas ; whose valour, lately seen On Africa veldts, withstood the trying test. Oy THK HOl Tll AFRICAN WAR. Of M .»d .h^ll. with Kngl.nd-. flghUr. b«. «... .Ill, ,h. u„M „, J^*- Dr. A. H, Chandler. CooMnc, N.U. 8R WAR. The battle cry |. .oundln* - And forth to the war men go. From comfort, and p«we .urroundin. To dMger. dlrtre* and woe ; To horroTB of death appalling. They march and we «iy. ■ Ood-.peed' ! In the hour of her dlrea. need. They murmur not. nor dally But Tolunteer over the w^irld • .Around the .tandard they rally To keep it aloft unfurled. oJ^ ' ' '"'■ *'''"■ <^o""try, good OJory. promotion or eutlon. For Britain as Britons should. But what of the other story,- The suffering, the dead, the loss Dark shadow of war's great glory, ' Son^ husbands, fathers and brothers Whom vlcfry can ne'er restore. For those who return no more. u M I i i POEMS AND SONGS The love of freedom Inspiring, For boundary of land, or fame. Nation on nation firing To slaughter, despoil or maim. May God, in His grace abounding. Heal hearU that grow sad and sore. Soon, the noise of the battle sounding Be heard iu our land no more. Katherlne A. Clarke, Toronto. THE CANADIAN : A TOAST. Tough-muscled Canuck, Blend of Gallic Are and British pluck, I love thee b^st of all the free. I pledge my fullest glass to thee, Here's luck. No man hath seen A better home than thine where'er he's been, Lord of the Northland, thou art made With a soul in thee like a temperd blade. Bright and keen. Long life and Joy To thee my tough Canuck— thou best alloy . Oe pioneer and hero blood, ^hou foremost l.M o'er field and flood. '.- Britain'* boy. Hon. T. R. K. Mclnnes. Government House, Victoria. B.a FROM CANADA. Mother and Queen, from the golden West, We offer in love at the foot of thy throne. All we can give thee, our dearest and best. Fleah of our fiesh and bone of our bone.— ' Take them. Queen of the brave and free. ■They come in their love to die for thee. il '^^S^^^^iS^- ''WS^". ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR Mother and Quaen, from farm and mart, Prom bank and <..;ory, hill and plain. They gather .r lovt, for a ;>oble Heart. To lighten 1' sorrow aiid tor Its pain. Take them. , ii# n of th« ,'AVt and free They conw 1;. ;;,o{r )t«ve to die for thee. Mother and Queen, our home* were bright And pure aB the air of ihe .sunlit north But tears have darkened the womanu sight Take them. Queen of the brave and free Who come In their lov6 to die for thee. Mother and Queen of the siKJtless throne, Lady and Lord of the sea and land Thou makest our far-born sona thine own By the tender clasp of a woman's hand - Take them. Queen of the brave and free They come In their love to die for thee.' Mother and Queen, from the sti^ng. glad West. ^^ive thl^'" "T "'*'" ^'•^••^ '^"'- '^•^••'I'-^n ••oam. rl^ft ^""^ '***'■*"'• **" ^™^«»t and best. Take them. Queen of our heart and home- Asking no bounty, favour or fee They come In their love to die for thee. Revd. Frederick Qeorge Scott, Quebec. 3!i CANADA'S SONS ARE THY SONS. Art thou among my children ? Then hearken to my call. Thy brothers wait upon thee. Now hasten lest they fall. The bond of Empire binds thee: The ties of blood are thick. Answer before thine own sons But let thy aid be quick. •wr>c?p^i'!'Wr '^'?^^i^ifM-Tis^isms^^^ 3« POEMS AND SONGS ifl ill Mother of mighty Empire Thou callest not In vain. We of thy womb have hearkened. And we respond again. Canada's sons ane thy sons. Loyal are they, to each. Witness O God of battles The lesson this will teach. A unit when foe threatens, Resistless In our might. The call to arms we answer, Shoulder to shoulder flght. The bond that binds us ever, The flag that flies on high, We glory in as Britons ; For it we'll flght and die. Send to our brothers greeting. Bid them be of good heart. Brothens to brothers hasten. Only in deam to part. G. M. Fairchild, Jr., Quebec. OUR BIT OF " THE THIN RED LINE." They have gone witJi a people's hopes and prayers Out over the eastern brine. . To strike for the might of Britain's right This bit of "the thin red line." They have gone by danger of flood and field. As their brave sires went of yore. To flght and bleed for the worlds great need. As Britons have bled before. To slay or be slain for the loved old flag, In the cause of the Just and true- To stand for the right of common earth And the heaven's open blue. -ismk.' r^* • ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. 37 And over our loyal land to-night ^ our hr'/r"" '"« P^y^-- IJoe- up For our bit of " the thin red line." They have gone to fight the freeman's fight For our far off kith and kin • In the fight where the right must win ; For the sacred cause of freedom's laws To win the glad release ' ZT"^.""^" ''^ '""^'^ eri!ed limb must save ; Where'er they tread, mens' wrongs, shall cease. And up shall spring the trodden slave. ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. 39 And when loud swells the battle's din. And shot and shell rend earth and sky Our thoughts for you will rise to Him Who sends our meed from heavens" high. While mothers, sisters, sweethearts pray And mingle with each prayer a sigh Tour Fathers aye will proudly say, We know our boys will " Do or die." May Afrlc t/oubles cease to toss ; May Cape and Cairo dayspring see • Till all beneath the "Southern Cross" Raise one grand song of liberty ! Revd. Duncan Anderson, Monymusk, Que. f OUR LADS. Our lads go forth— like knighta of old To arid plains, oer surging sea. Led by no lust of hireling gold But love of sacred liberty ! Our sea-girt mother-lsIe, from far. Summons her chlldien,-«cattered wide • They spring,— as wakee the note of war. To flght for freedom, at her side ! They hasten, at her call. To battle, in our name ! Resound the loud acclaim, Qod shield them — one and all ! ■ •We follow on, with thought and prayers, In the rich-freighted vessel'B wake Through northern chill, through tropic airs- Oh winds, blow softly for her sake ! She bears the hopes of hearts that bleed With parting pangs, with aching fears ;— Oh hear our Canada's God-speed ! Thou who must lead, where duty steers : They go, at duty's call To battle, in our name; — Resound the loud acclaim,— God shield them. — one and all : 40 POEMS AND SONGS i What peaceful yeart essayed to do Crista and sorrow swift complete,— Stir our wide Emplrt* through and 'through. TIH, with one throb, her pulses beat ' Prom pine-crowned hill and sun-baked strand Prom Queen and peasant,— cot and hall — ' One yearning breathes from land to land.— Ood guard our warriors.— one and all ! They go at 'Britain's call. To battle In her name. * Resound the loud acclaim, Gtod guard them— one and all'; Oh Ood of battles,— Truth and Right, Who seest, as no mortal may,— Whose hand can guide through paslion's night. To dawning of a glorious day ;— Grant victory, as Thou seest best,— Melt hate to loVe.-tlll slaughter cease,— Lay sword In sheath, and lance In rest. And bring our wacderers home In peace » They go, at Britain's call To battle In our name, — Resound the loud acclaim,— Ood guard them— one and all { Miss Agnes Maule Mackar. (" Fldells ") Kingston. : * A PLEDGE. I^rd Ernest Hamilton contributes these few lines to the Pali Mall Gazette under the above title. "Canada, AustralaPia, we stock of a Northern land, ' Are stiff, and reserved, and proud, and the words that we speak are few ; But we look 3^u straight in the face, and we grip your out- stretched hand. And God deal so with us. as we deal. In your need.' with you." ii *^^EM*~3Sl ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. 41 AFRICA. Thunder of guns on the mainland, Trooping of ships on the' sea. Hissing of shot and screaming of shells. What may this tumult be ? Look ! :.om the nbrth and the south ; See ! from the east and the west. An Empire's sons from every clime. Are touched by a strange unrest. Thunder of guns on the mainland. Speeding of ships from afar ; Sons of the Empire, east and west, Are one in the strife of war. East and west in the strife are they, One in the ^ atest Joined ; And the lagging world looks after them, From the lowlands far behind. Thunder of guns on the mainland. Trooping of ships at sea. Hissing of shot anu screaming of shell. Boom out the century ; For east and west are one in the strife When the war-drum beats alarms : And an Empire's sons, from every clime. Shall meet the world in arms. Revd. R. Newell, Markdale, Ont m CANADA TO THE EMPIRE. We come, Britannia, at thy call. Whig and Tory, Celt and Gaul, A serried square, a mitred wall. Of British subjects we. We come from Abraham's ancient plain. From Queenston Heights and Lundy's Lane And as we march our one refral»i, Is loyalty to Thee. I ;■..*■' ^■iimm 42 POEMS AND SONGS If II ■ And a. at Ogdenaburg of yore. aI^"""!; '"^*** "•* P"^« -wore. And crucifix and broad claymore Did vie In Loyalty. Even so to-day, we firmly stand. All creeds and classes. hanS in hand As loyal to the Motherland, 'n sweet community. A thonsand strong, we represent The might of half a continent • in aim and Inspiration blent, ' Britannia, one with Thee. In sinews of expanding girth. The peer of any power on earth ; We hold It all for Thee. Our Infancy, her hand careeeed Our every wrong, her love redr«sed with tenderest agony. FJX)m tutelage she taught the way To nationhood's self-conscious sway • And Shall we not. in part, repay "^ ' This love-wrought legacy? ^ut cfiamplon of freedom's ward, ^"~"f,!*-« defender, guard DesP^ler of the despot's shard Empire, we come to thee. ' Empire of peaceful arts, the home. We Stand beneath thine ancient dome And help roll back in broken ftoem Each storm that threatens Thee. Now frantic naUons In mad hate Defiance loud hurl at thy gate And Jealous of thy high estate'; Empire, we come to Thee. ?«K^ wm. ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. All one, in heritage and heart. In travail thou, in rei .a we smart. Whatever fate may be thy part. We stand or fall with Thee. The first in all thy vast domains. And thine ow. valor In our veins. To purge the earth of serfdom stains, Empl ?, we ome to Thee. Thy burdens we take up and bear, That in thy triumphs we may share. And proudly show what we can dare, Kmpire, for love of Thee. And, if the worst come to the worst. And powers in concert on thee burst, Our blood shall quench their hellish thirst, Or e'er we yield or flee. Lord God of Hosts, her sun and shield. No power on earth can make her yield. Or force Britannia from the field Of proud supremacy. God bless our country and our Queen, God grant u« peace, broad-based between A suffrage wise and conduct clean. Our prayer shall ever be. Revd. P. M. McEachem, .Waterdown, Ont 4S ■ TO THE CANADIAN CONTINGENT. We've rallied round the old flag, we leave our native land. Singing our own Canadian war song. We're going to help old England on Afric's sunny strand. Singing our own Canadian war song. CHORUS. The Empire forever— the flag all so scarred. Our brothers are calling, we haste to their aid ; And we'll fight jeseath the old flag for which our fathers fought. , Singing our own Canadian war song. P^''^*! '■''\^^^- 44 P0KM8 AND SONGS ( I CHORUS. Sin.,„, our own cZZV.^ il^ '"^ ^"''- tJIORUS. When the flghtln' ii'i i. .nn ^ singing: our own Canadian lar JSg ' '° ''^ *=°'-*' CHOBC8. singing our own Canadla^'wlrsrng °"' ""'*" '""*"' G. M. Fairchlld. Jr., Quebec. OUR CONTINGENT. There's a cry upon the air From a land supremely falr- ThZ ""■ ^"""'^ ^"""'^^ «°'»' '"I'- Play; There, oppression, growing bold Ever grasps a firmer hold Of all -Outlanders'.rlghts. they say. »¥^i' ^iii-r^'m." ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. But, the whole world must know, That 'Our iMdy of the Snow.' C5ould not Ilaten to auch a cry for aid ; And cold and heartleaair, Her blood relatione, see Plerc'd by a Boera' savage blade. Though it's truly a ' far ery,' And tbere'a chance for some to die,— She bids her bravest sons to arm. ' And boldly cross the sea. To make those Boera flee Sre they can do much harm. Her sUlwart sons, so bold ; -^ ' Young, middle-aged, and old,— Are preparing In haste for the fray; But they are not all required. Though with martial glory flred. • Some heroes at. home must stay. But those, that cross the main. When they return again. We'll crown their heads with laurel green. For we know they'll win the day, And end oppression's away. To the glory and the honor of our Queen. But we, old 'vets,' that remain, Will sing the old refrain,— "Rule Britannia, Britain rules the waves," Till the song on echo's pinion Files the length of this Dominion.— " Oh, Britons never shall be slaves ! " W. H. Cox, Oranby, Que. TO ARMS ! TO ARMS ! A BONO FOB THE CANADIAN CONTINGENT. To arms ! to arms ! all Englan^s sons rise up from east and west; What matter if a thousand guns are pointed at the breast •» For Britons never will be slaves, oppressors, or oj eesed ' W 46 POKMS AND 80NO8 Rlli« up! riM up! heroic km. th« braveit of the earth • "*k.-k' "*"• "*"• "**"'• "••"•• *"• ""y 'hat gave thee Dirtn ; And manr « elre hi. blood hath .hed to prore hi. nation', worth. Quail not! quail not! what matter. It though thou«nd foe. adrance Remember too the "thin. r«l. line" that marked the fall of FranVe! To arm.! to arm.! for mother land, and Mrike the deadly blow ! Let crlm«>n blood waah hill and dale, and .uin the oceanVltor • And down with him who furl, the flag or lay. the Empire ^Z i Strike for the flag, the glorlou. flag, that wave, oer land and Ma. Stand man to man In wrrled rank, for Ood will .ide with thee ! A thou.nad .un. may riM and wt. but .till on England free ! Whit"™..!" T" l""""^ ^"'"'"'' "*'"■• "" "P '•^'" ^ »«>«» we.t! ^K l^! "■ " * 'houMnd gun. are pointed at the breaat ? The BrltUh race .hall .till remain thrlce-happy and thrlce-ble.t ! R. H. Phllllmore, M.D.. Cookahlre, Que. life." INVOCATION. O Ood, Creator, look not down In wrath upon Thy creature.' .trife, Pity our frame, of duat, and bring Some good from out this "life for Thou rldeat on the beam, of light. And markeat scene, of woe and death. Where man hi. fellow'a blood doth .piii And triumph* in hi. latest breath. O Thou, from whom all good doth eprlng Author of Juatlce. Truth and Right, O'erahadow, with protecting wing. Our brothers, foremoet In the fight. Guard each as precious In Thy sight. The lives Thou gavest. eafely hide Within the hollow of T^y hand, Till Peace shall reign and Right preside. Miss Margaret Howe Pennington. Halifax. 'Jl ^..im^-'i^w^ ^^^mmm ]^M m.mM~ml&^ TMi^im- ON THE 80UTII AFRICAN WAR. 47 A PRAYER Dl'RINO BATTLE. TO OVM COUHAttKH IM SOUTH AFMCA. F&ther, I call on Thee : Belching guns Bhroud me In vapor and fume. Deaths awful IlKbtnlngi fast flash In the gloom. Ruler of Battles, I call on Thee ; Father, oh! guide Thou roe. Father, oh! guide Thou me : Lead me to rlctory. or to death In the strife. Lord, I avow Thee. Thou Sovereign of Life ! Lord, as Thou wilt, then, oh ! guide Thou me : Ood, I confess but Thee. Ood, I confess but Thee : As In the whlsp'ring of leaves in the night. So In the thunder and storm of the light, FounUIn of Grace ! I perceive but Thee : Father, then, bless Thou me. Father, then bless Thou me : Into Thy bands, my poor life, I resign : Thou canst recall It: all life U Thine : Uving or dying, oh! bless Thou me : Father, I worship Thee. Father, I worship Thee : This is no conflict for earthly luat, OLord, Man's sacred rights, we adjust by the sword Dying or conquering, I bow to Tnee : Father. I yield to Thee. Father, I yield to Thee : Stricken be 1, by the lightning of Death, Gushing my heart's blood, and falling my breath. Receive me, Jehovah ! i yjeld to Thee : Ood ! I appeal to Thee ! W. A. Wanlew. Sergt. R.C.A., London, Ont. fc wy ¥: fsmr wwrnm:.- ^,r\i ■.^>'V7 r'^ TSff?" •.I. !! .48 POEMS AXD SONGS i ! THE EMPIRE'S BATTLE-HYMN. Lord God. who long hast been our .hleld- Than Whom there is no higher Power- Cur homage now to Thee we yield. Lord, guide us in dread battle's hour Give U8. we pray. 'Thy guiding light. That we may tread t^e path of Right Our loved Empire la at war. And we believe our cause la JuBt • O Thou Who guldest every star ! ' In Thee alone we put our truat Lord God of battles, If Thou wilt Our blood In vain anall not be apllt. Our fight we know la Freedom's own In Freedom's cause we draw the blkde • To overthrow the tyrant's throne We now Implore Thy mighty aid. Lord. If we fight for gold or gr«ed Grant us that we may not succeed. The stubborn prejudice and hate The selfish pride of race and creed. The tyranny of small and great. On men of our own BrlUsh breed • Does not all this a cause afford For drawing now the Empire's sword ? Have borne too long oppressions fro;n • LIt^ ':"•'' ^"^"^ ^pp^". • O King of kings and Lord or lords. Let us not use vain boastful words ! Lord Ood! be Thou our Empires guide Shoulder by shoulder, side by side ' Give us th. strength to gu„d her life Thro luring light and darkness deep O Lord. Thy chosen Empire ^p ; W. F. Wiggins, Toronto. ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. 40 FAREWELL ! To the lat Caiuidlan contingent on their departure from Quebec. You II be the warders of a country's pride • On you-whatever good or 111 betide- Depends the honour of your native land. Your every act an Empire's eyes will see ■ Upon your courage resta a people's fame ; Blood bought on Abrams plain- for chivalry. We wish you God-speed all your miselon through • We pray that fortune may your steps attend ; Our heartB are with you In whate'er you do • nr^H '''"*^,/"" ''«» o" trust you will defend. Brothers, adieu! an earnest, warm adieu ' In life,-in death-to Canada be true. George Graham Currle. COMFORT. " The love of all thy people, comfort thee " Thy sweetest poet voiced the tender thought And would repeat It, had he lived to see ' The sorrow that the closing year has brought Upon thy royal heart ; as each sad day Won ever to forgetfulness. yet may The love of all thy people comfort thee. The love of all thy people, in thine Islee tJ.''®^ ^"^ '*"■ P^*'® *°*' P'"'^y«' 'o"- »t though strong Not tears, should be thy portion all day long And those who die to keep thine Empire whole.' And all within its borders, safe and free Pray, even in the passing of the soul Almighty God to bless and comfort thee '^1 80 POEMS AND SONGS And we, In those new lands, thou hast not seen. Strong, proud, free children of the South or West, After our God, we reverence thee, our Queen, And offer our hearfs-dearest and our beet ; And each would make thy heavy grief his own. So that thou mlghteet from the weight ibe free : May this rich warmth of love about thee thrown. This love of all thy people, comfort thee. Miss Sarah E. Srlgley, BritainviUe, Ont. •I", " WHAT WB HAVE WELL HOLD." Dear old England ! we are thine. Thine in peace or war, Sons, who for thy glory shine E'en in battle sore, Strike, for liberty ifor others, As in days of old, We are Britons, men and brothere, " What we have we'll hold." Mother country J to thy need Swift thy children fly. Equal freedom sUll our creed. Dare to do and die. Tor the love of home and nation Not for gain or gold. We but fight for thy salvation, "What we have we'll hold." Miss Katharine A. Clarke, Toronto- THE GRAY MOTHER. Lo, how they come to me, LMig through the night I call them. Ah, how they turn to me. ft Eaat and South my chUdren scatter North and West the world they 'wander. ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. Ul Yet they come back to me, Come with their brave hearts beating, Longing to die for me. Me, the gray, old, veary mother. Throned amid the Northern waters. Where they have died for me. Died with their songs around me, ' Girding my shores for me. Narrow was my dwelling for them. Homes they builded o'er the ocean. Yet they leave all for me. Hearing their mother calling. Bringing their lives for me. Far from South seas swiftly sailing. Out from under stars I know not. Come they to light for me. Sons of the sons I nurtured, Ck)d keep >*ieto safe for me. lioog ago their fathers saved me. Died for me among the heather. Now they come back to me, Come, in their children's children, Brave ot the brave for me. In the wilds and waves they slumber. Deep they slumber in the deserts, Rise they tnm graves to me, Graves where they lay forgotten, Shades of the brave for me. Yet my soul is veiled in eadneas, For I see them fall and perish. Strewing the hills for me. Claiming tihe world in dying. Bought with their blood for m& I 62 I!: '! I' ' POEMS AND SONGS Hear the gray, old Northern mother. Blessing now her dying children,— Ood keep ye safe for me, Chrigt watch ye |n your sleeping. Where ye have died for me. And when God's own slogan soundeth. All the dead world's dust awaking. Ah, will ye look for me ? , Bravely we'll sUnd together, I and my sons with me. L. MacLean Watt.— The SpecUtor, Londo". 1 1 THE CHILDREN OF THE BLOOD. Or ?h! 'if H"""^, Y""* '"""^'""•^ ^°^ **> *"»»P '^ storm-bent pine. So. iLf" J'"** '"'"'■"°« "P'"'^"-"* '^"^ Fuego to the Line ? JS ^ °\7"^'' "'"'^ °"* ^"^ '^ '^'^ «»« -«* «»« -beer ; Far clearer than your siorm-wlnd is the call that greets u« here. ^r^n ""f J^"^ *"■""" ®*°°''" ^"^"^ y°" •^«»'- «>« «"n>'nons roll. From mountain crest to river bed, from Tropic to the Pole. It floats out o'er the lonely veldt, acroee the prairie grass ; ?hen o^h^ ""f'' ^«"=h*nt'8 ear where hurrying thousands pass ; Sr^t^ ^ !: ^^"^ *^'"'"* P***^' '' *>'<^ tihe hlllman comV; The stockman gathers from the plain, the dalesman from his home. Men hear it in the workshop as it echoes down the st«et. It stirs the ready hand to arm, the loyal heart to beat. It pea^oer the desert waste, it thunders o'er the flood The Free Land'a call to Free Men, to the Children of the Blooi. ^ere'!r "^'.^r" *"^ ^°°*'' «*"°^ «^'- Triple Cross on high, ^r^r.?.' "?" '="''« '^ '^'^- '••°«« oot the stern repl,!- We hear thy voice. Great Mother, and we answer to thy cail The offspring of thy mighty loins, spread o'er the seagirt bal We sti^d with thee in union,-Lord God. be Thou ou^^We Wield Thou the Sword of Justice, but this link let n<^e dlvWe ' We bring our lives, a free gift, for the land all freemen love ' For liberty and equal law, our charter from above " t^n^ Tr ^T Hr"^ '**^"'"^ '^ °"'' ««• ^t*'^" KTlmly stood. So now, before the Nations, stand the Children of the Blood. C. M., in London " Speaker." ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. 85 GOOD- BY. The following veraee were found In the tunic pocket of a trooner la the Imperial Yeomanry, killed In a South Afrlc^.klrmlsh tKJ were In a glrl'g handwriting. Your way lies over the hillside. Out In the rain and sleet ; Out in the world's wide turmoil, Where bustle and business meet. But mine by the noiseless fireside. Where the fanciful embers glow With a changeful, life-like motion— . KisB me before you go. My quiet way will be haunted With visions none otherai can see, Glances more precious than diamonds. Smiles full of meaning to me. The sound of a welcome foototep, A whisper tbrllllngly low. Ah. thought will clasp memory closely ! Kiss me before you go. For this world is full of mischances. And one of these chances may fall That we ne'er again In the firelight Make one shadow upon the wall. Oh, thence, once more in parting- Alas ! thait It must be so— Leave me a fond benedicUon— Kiss me before you go. ■*1 ;il: THE VOICE OF THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. We have lent to our country all (Well knowing, well counting the cost), . By her colours to stand or fall. The Treasures we held to the most. 54 POEMS AND SONGS In the Blgh of our wak'nlng breath. In the sob of our nightly prayer, We know, to the portals 'd'«"!" we have said, who saw them go. With stem, set faces, eager for the fray Bade them "God speed!" then tumed us home again To do our woman's work to wait and pray ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. 85 To scan with anxious eyes the awful list, Which t«ll8 U8 who are wounded, who are— dead, And Btni do little deeds of tender love. In the hushed home from which all Joy is fled. They have gone forth to help the sore oppressed, We, left behind, can still the labor share ; Theirs be the fierce excitement and the fight. Gups the strong wrestling on the Mount of Prayer! Ellen M. Blunt. , i A SOLDIER'S TREASURE. '^ With a rose In the rim (tf his fawn-colored hat. And a jingle of sabre and spur, A soldier rode by in the dawn and the dew Ere the village was aoaroely astir. The patter and clatter of sharp little hoofs Brought her into tae window above ; Her eyes were as blue as the sky overhead, Unclouded by sorrow or love. In the gold of the sunrise they halted below. Bay mare and brave rider, a space, And her 'kerchief dropped out as she leaned from the sill, A fragment of linen and lace. He caught it In air on the point of his sword, And buttoned It under his blouse. And cantered away, but drew rein on the hill, ir And turned to look back at the house. While she dreamed of a soldier returning from war. To halt at her window again. The mare and her rmer lay dead in the dust Where bullets were falling like rain ; And a comrade who passed In a moment of truce, Stopped over and covered his face With a 'kerchief he found in the breast of his blouse, A fragment of linen and lace. Minna Irving, in Lsalle'st Weekly. i 1 •ill ii m POEMH AND SON«» CRY OP THE BROKBN-HBARTBD. When the day of battle U ended. And the cruel suapenM is paat ; When the hours ot anmlahed waiting Are over for all at last Then thoae who are reunited Will offer their praise to Ood— But the lad I have waited and longed for Lies, voloeleu, under the sod. There were m ly who climbed the hillside When they stormed the enemy's poet, There was many a cheer outrlnglng For the trlumpJi of Britain's hoet There were many who stxjod unwounded. Unharmed, at the set of sun. But the lad I have waited and longed for. His day of battle was done. Ere long— by many a flreeide They will tell of that gallant flght. They will pral.e those warrior heroes. The power of Britain's might Thej ^m speak-wlth awestruck voioea- Of their commdes among the slain— But the lad I have waited and longed for Will speak to me never again. You are dead for your Queen and your country You are dead in your htmor and pride ! You are dead that your brother soldiers Might rise with the trumpet-tide! You have paid the price of their glory. As a eoldler would wish to do— Ah! but my lad that I've longed for My heart's Just breaKibg for you ! Dora Tlckeis.— The Queen. ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. 57 WHISPERS OP WAR. Told by One of the Forty-Third. There are whlapers in the canteen, there are whispers In the mesa, There are whispers wheresoever walked a lad in soldier drees. Just another such a whisper aa the one that grew and grew. Till It burst in cannon's thunder on the plains of Waterloo. It was only just a murmur, but a murmur low and deep. Like a lion's angry growling when you rouse It from its sleep ; But It's reached the golden Indies and the wild Canadian shore. Bound to q>eak again in cannon, as the lions bound to roar. of them whispers ran like this, "It's bound to And the burden come ; Pull the Uaa'a tall and wake him and you'll find he isn't dumb ; And If you want to work him 'up to action rougher still. Rouse his mem'ry too, and whisper in his ear, 'Majuba Hill ! ' " We've been paUent ; don't get talking about foreign policy ; It is time our debt to settle, and what is to be will be. We've had one bill receipted. Just sent home from the Soudan, And to settle up another we are ready to a man." Ay, tt's reached where'er our language makes the music of the breeze. For I've Just received a letter from a chum across the seaa; And he says, "We all are waiting with old rjnglard heart and hand For to settle that account, boy. Just received from Boerlaad." There was whispers in the canteen, there was whispers in the mess. Till they found a vent in poetry, or we'd had to burst, I guess. And we wrote a little ballad, an' we all put in a word ; Here It Is, "A British War-Song," by the flgnilng Forty-Third. There's a blot upon our story, Say whate'er you will, ' Tie that field of death and glory Called Majuba Hill. There our vaunted pride was smitten- Unavenged as yet — And the honest heart of- Britain Bums to pay the debt. ii -• i ii M POEMS AND SONGS D»rk Majub*. yet how glortoua !>•«»« that lit the fray ! What of him who held vlctorioua Bbot and ah«ll at bay? Ay! we've heard the .tory otfm. And well hear It atlll, How the nag of truce held Fkrmer On Majuba Hill. Should be heard the loud war-i»ttle. What have we to fear ? There la music In a batUe Unto Brltona dear. Dread and danger make ua calmer, Strengthen heart and will. Ay. there'8 many a lad like Farmer In our Army atlll. Who la he that comes a-looklng Neither left nor right ; With the self-same mler. he carried In the hottest fight ? Ky» of steel that match the flwy Gleam of cross and star ; Stem and sturdy, atiit and wiry Bobs of Candahar. Who Is he to fear a stranger, On, 'mid shell and eliot. With a smile for death and danger- Who could daunt a Scot? It Is he whose sword made brightness In the dark Soudan ; Otorlous and victorious Hector Of Macdonald's clan. Let the drums and trumpets rattle, Need we shirlnk away ? With such men to guide the battle Could we lose the day ? Nay, we would retrieve our honour Fighting on until Brightest boaat upon our banner Dark Majuba Hill. |! i I ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. m Now there ain't a Rudyard Kipling In the flghtlng Forty-Third ; But it Just expressed our feelings and our very souls Is stirred ; For there's something In the rumour of a war that seems to start Into action the old Briton In the weakest English heart True, I know all men are brothers, or at least they ought to be. But at bay we can't help standlnc— we're a fighting family. Kate BUhop (Kay Bee). .» i 'i THE BRITISH WALL. Hammers that beat and hands that weave And brains that scheme and plan. Hearts working out in hope and doubt The destiny of man ; All these are found with the foam ringed round, Where the circling oillows fall, Prom the guardian sea that lips the key That centres tne British wall. On floating bridges it spans the ridgee That seethe oa soundless deeps. To stretch its banu o'er a northern land Frcwn the dykes to the Rocky steep*— In prairies broad, In foresU dim. By lakes and mountains tall. The builders build with purpose grim The grand, old British wall. It spans the foam that beats like snow On the coral-dotted sea. To rise In tropic summer's glow On the ieles of wild Fiji— And dusky men by the palm and cane Where the red-plumed parrots call In the blistering beat of a torrid heat Are building the Brltleh wall. dO rOEMM AND 80N08 ■• ■ I And down wbvr* the michtx Austral 1*Im Ar« wt In tiM Southern %m%, Wh«r« the ebe^ erase wild O'er the couatleea miles And untold treaeuree be. In darksome mines, on sunburnt plains. They are bulldin, I, .tralght and tall And .olderin, good with their kindred blood ThU tower of the British wall. ^t'th?,! '"**■" "-" ""■°"«»' '"• i""*'- deep; Neath the snow of^lmalay— ?oThe ™„T» "**' '"•" °" *"• *»•*«• •»«>'^. ro the mute towers of Bombay • Swarthy, and lithe and tall True bricks In the British wall. wnere Natal sUnds by Ihe sea ; Where Capetown lie. by the silent hill. • Ships peacefully riding a-iee InrfhVit T: ""^ •'"'"• "'' "»• ««««• bark And the Arab howling fall— WUh*";!* "f""*^ '" * """"nental park With tlie strength of tn« British wall. It« gun. have a went for alien blood r" the war-«hlp8 steaming through. There « a sandy hlU and a lonely J.ie Where the wave, of the Red Sea fall ; And Aden and Perlm grimly .mile ; We are bricks In the British wall." SL?'*°^K *°°*"'* ^'^ ^»"«' ""note. We have bullded them everyone In a solid line, no sea. confine ; That knows no setting sun We have circled the worid'wlth a co«lon bmve And so braced are Its gtrdero all That the cannon-8 shot and the *d«,h of the wave But strengthen the Britlsli wall. ^aa*' *?'t?^«^-JT"r*v- ON THK HOUTII AFRICAN WAR. ei 80 w« Mjr to th« Prank and the MuKOvtta And the Boer : " So b« It knoT. u ! You may daah youraelvea like a bird In flight That atrlkM on a abaft of stona ; But whila F*rMdom atanda and mra bat« a lie. While Juatice relgna'c'er all, Your blood will but strenKtlien and beaatify The face of the brItUh wall. " The Star." Montreal. BRITANNIA'S PICCANINNY. Thia poem la firom the " NaUl AdTertlaer." which will appeal to our readers. " We are not very big, but we have done our beat for the honor of the Empire and the Integrity of South Africa, and we aak for one favor, that the British and Colonial pr^as will not imagine that Natal is a town In the Cape Colony any more." B. C. W.. NaUl. She's the smalleat of the children In the dear Old Lady's shoe. And yei the laaa haa ahown the reat The sort of thing to do ; For while they have been waiting, Wny, ahe'a knocked things Into shape, And ahamed Miss Wacbt-en-BeetJe And her cousins at the Cape. Chorus — She's Britannia's Piccaninny ; If she isn't very big, She's a Daughter of the Empire, So she dooan't care a flg, Tho'fl she landed in the front of It — And bound to bear the brunt of it ; The grim and grisly brunt of it ! m 2? Natal ! POEMS AND SONGS It She', a plucky HtUe mldset. It she doMn't run to size. And though rte'. but a feather-weight Shell wipe the Dutchman'a eyee. The way she peeled her jacket Show, the good old fighting strain ; J;lrin, ?'•"*'"'••" •»'» ''ave done watal will do again ! When they told her men were wanted, WeU. she vowed she would be first And rolled her volunteer along • ' Before the storm should burnt • So While the Cape wa. wavering. And Kept her colors hid. NatalU flung her flag aloft And Juat sailed In and— 'did* ! Yes. we love this Piccaninny And will gather roun^ her shield. Sworn to keep her motto .talnle.. On the red and bloody field • J^>r she's loft her honor's kwplng To her trusty Voluuteere. So they greet Natalia's banner With a storm of ringing cheers. Chorus — She'* Britannia'. Piccaninny ; If she Isn't very big. She's a Daughter of 'the Empire. Bo She doesn't care a flg. THB LION'S WHELPS. TJere 1. «.arlet on the forehead. Turns to Iron in its place. ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. «» When he halts to face dlaaster, when be turna to meet disgrace. Stuns and keen and mettled with the life blood of his own. Let the hunters 'ware who flout him When he calls his whtlps about him. When he seU the goal btfore him and he settles to the pace. Tricked and wounded ! Are we beaten Though they hold our strength at play ? We have faced these things aforetimes, long ago, long ago, From sunlit Sydney Harbor And ten thousand miies away. Prom the far Canadian foreaU to the eounda of Milford Bay, They have answered, they have answered, and we know the answer now. From the Britons such as these. Strewn across the worldwide seas. Come the rally and the bugle note that makes us one to-day. Beaten! Let them come against ua,. We can meet them one and all. We have iaced the >rld aforetimes, not in vain, not in vain. Twice ten thousa. . hearts we widowed. Twice ten thousand hearta may fall. But a million voices answer: "We are ready for the call. And the sword w« draw for JusUce shall not see lU aheath again. Nor our cannon ceaoe to thunder Till we break their atrength asunder And the Lion's whelps are round him and the Old Flag over all." Queensland, Australia News. it " I'^ii "THE ISLAND QUEEN." She hath raised her hand, the Island Queen. For a brand's been thrown in the Lion's And the answer's borne by armed men. Roll of drums and clatter of steel. Champing of steeds and bugle peal. A wail of sorrow and laat good-night. And cheers for those who go to flght. Children of the Queen. den. 64 Imt POEMS AND SONGS She hath raised her hand, the Island Queen. The black smoke foams trom the funnel mouih Of a flying squadron speeding south • r„rt Tk'^" '"^'^ "'^''^ ""^ '^»"'d. «ream. And the dawn «un klseee the muzzle, grim r,fn. """"^ ""**"^ '" ^'•^ »»"•««. dim. Children of the Queen. She hath raised her hand, the Island Queen From a hund.^ hu.s a flood poure do^ ' Of stern men clad In khaki brown Ohoorka. Afrldl. Sikh, Sepoy. Highlanders, heroes of Dargal, Line of cavalry, riflemen, guide, Hurrying down to the trooper's' side, Children of the Queen. She hath raised her hand, the Island Queen A cry comes up from the, Austral land We send our best for the Motherland"- And Canada's voice sweeps round the world Wherever Uie meteor flag's unfurled " Saxon sired, full kin are we. Bred by the Mistress of the Sea," Children of the Queen. She hath raised her hand, the Island Queen And Buller's a bundled thousand men ' And standing ben.nd them millions ten Or twenty If ever the need should be. Keady to stand or fight or die With " Queen and Empire " battle cry Children of the Queen. She will raise her hand, the Island Queen And lightning seal the Maxim's UpJ When a stubborn foe Is forced to yield ^W.T""*'^*'* ""^'''^ *"» » reddened" field ; We have beaten you fiUr-Brave men are ye Go to your homes and henceforth be Children of the Queen." R- D. Meyers. ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR (tS BRITANNIA MILITANS. The ltoplre-3 drum Ib beating ; lu roll goes round the world The foenuin. fierce and hating, behind hU bwtlon rtands In courage .carcrty bating, the be.t of Brltalns ba^ ' The Bmplre-8 ho.t. are mui^ring. on Afrlc's burning veldf FJom the four winds are clustering, brave .nglo-Safon STtL They come, free men, responding, to Britain', martial can No craven hearts desponding, in d«ad of BriuTn " fall ' Ser'tlTtiT ,!!• '°*""' ^^"«'' ^'^^ ''^ him still ; rtZ^^ZS ^* *° °° "*"■ ^''•y "t»~l with dogged will Though rocks and bullets stay them, they yet will «h, Vi. . NO earthly power can b«y them, they c;e:ch'tt;lrth?;pt': ?I.lSf**^''''Ki*'J* *" "»~»>blng. with all the fire of youth • The tyranny aa«lllng. shall perish all despite ' Sf f*T V^ "*''*'■ *^"*^'"' "he knows no panic friaht • She calls. Her sons abounding, come over land and wave These are her walls surmundlng. these will her honor «;«. Rev. Andrew MacNab, Lucknow. Ont. i r 'ti«f > I ■ft" LINBffl ON THE WAR. Throughout the long dull night the bivouac Prom rock to crevice, as the foe reUrea As stealthily beyond where sentries keep Their nlghUy vigil, and the long watch t?re. The weary eye forbidden now to sleep • While the deep sUence reigns, so «»a to j;ieM To storm and tumult over camp and field. flres 66 POEMS AND SONGS And wLile In homes far off beyond the sea The mothera, wives, and sweethearts of the brave Lift holy hands to Heaven imploringly, That He who notes the sparrow's fall, may save Bach cherished one ; yet Britons must be free. And freedom's price 1* havoc and the grave ; — And many a heart, with hope now beating fast. Shall rot in foreign wilds when all is past * Yet from that soil shall spring in. after years A harvest of requital, such as brings Joy to the reapers, when the mist of tears Has passed away for ever on the wings Of fluttering darkness, and a day appears Of ceaseless progress, which imaginings Could never dream of, and which speaks release, And boundless empire, and a world ai peace. Rev. J. R. ^^ewell, Harkdale, Ont. WAR. The battle cry is sounding and forth to the war men go. From comforts and peace surrounding, to danger, distress and woe. To horrors of death appalling they march and we say "God-speed," For they answer their country's calling, in the hour of her direst need. They murmur not, nor dally, but volunteer over the world. Around the standard they rally, to keep it aloft, unfurled, For banner and Queen and nation, they flght for their country's good. Glory, promotion or station, for Britain as Britons should. But what of the other story, the suffering, the dead, the loss. Dark shadow of war's great glory, her crown is the nation's cross, Sons, husbands, fathers and brothers, whom victory can ne'er restore. The weeping of wives and mothers for those who return no more. The love of country Inspiring, for boundary of land, or fame. Nation on nation firing, to slaughter, despoil or maim. May God in Hia grace abounding, heal hearts that are sad and sore. And the noise of the battle sounding, be heard In our land no m»^« but one object, and that Is the' foe. The pipers are blowing wi' might an' wl' main Th« h ^"'°'"' "•* Campbells are coming again The bayonets are fixed, mark the flash of .^e S See ! see ! how the foeman fall backward and reel. Chorus. — Then forward the men of the Highland Brigade Ay ready and willing, and never dismayed' True sons of McGreg*. Argyll and J^hiel McKensle, McDonald. McLean and McNeil. Your auld mlther Scotia remembers wl' pride Whenthl/*"" ^""^ "'* «"'"'«« o" turned the Ude When the issue was doubtful, and brave men did fear How the Highland Brigade thundered up wi' a cheer; 70 POEMS AND SONGS f M Then Moulder to sboolder, brav» aoiu of old Oaul, B« »y true to your colours, whatever befall, Aa ye march proudly forward sae Ballant an' true, Auld Scotland expects that your duty you'll do. Chorus. So proudly ye march wl" your colour* before. Emblazoned wi' actions and battles galore, Corunna, Quebec and famed Waterloo, In Egypt, the Alma, and India too. And the Boers of the Transvaal (tho' bravely they fought). Had to yield to the charge of the conquering Scot, Then keep bright your name, lads, and ne'er let it fade. And your country will honour the Highland Brigade. i , Chorus. E. Bain, Montreal. THE BRAES 0' DEE. A Lament for the Highlanders Slain In South Africa. 'Twaa gloamin' 1' the Brackley wuds, and sweet the maTli sanf. As doon the jlnkln' bumle's side I tentily did gang; And there I spied a lanely lass, fair as the flow'rs o' spring. But nnco.waesome were the words I heard the laasie sing;— " Hoe dune, hae dune, ye bonnie birds, that lilt sae blythe a strain; How can ye even hint o" Joy to ane whase Joys Ara gane T Nae voice, but that o' dule, should ring amans the braea o'Dee, Sin' «ruel war has stown the pride o' a' the North Conntree." I crap ahint a birken buah, and e'ed the do>fu' maid, Tlie win" had tlrl'd her raven locks, the de\i was on her plaid ; She cuist to heaven an eerie look wad cowed a heart o" atane. And aye she clash'd her Illy looves, and aye she made her maen:— " Yestreen the Glamour sels'd my saul and lang entrane'd I lay; I saw the deid-llchts bumin' blue on bonnie Inveraye; The Jowin' o" an eld« iit bell was soundin' owre the Dee, And plaided Shapes, wi' never a sign, gade llnkln' doon Glenshee." ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. 71 By thla I trow'd the law waa fey. and tain bad allpt awa For death or madneaa was the doom whene'er her gi-^ce mlcht fa'; But wl a set and ahilplt face, she heedleaa paas'd me by, And far Into the getherln' mirk I heard her waefu* cry'— " O. bon a rie ! O. bon a rie ! they lie by ford and at«ep The wild beast o' the desert howls Abune their dreamlCM sleep- And fartfrae CasUe Gordons CSraigs. and frae the braes o' Dee The bluidy sands hae smoord the pride o' a' the North Countree ! " Robert Reid, Montreal. Brackley. Olenshee, Inveraye. Castle Ctordon. Deeslde.— All names of places in the Gordon country, Scotland. THE DIRGE OF THE illGHLAND BRIGADE. Out wailed the Pipes to the Strains of the " Flowers of the Forest." Oh. strangely, o'er the veldt, where winds the Modder River. Sounds the pibroch on the sultry tropic air.— Sadly marched the broken remnant, while the bagpipes' walling quiver Wail, the dead " Flower " of ScoUand. lying there! There's a long, lonely grave near by the Modder water. Where the round hills rise purple towards the sky. And the greening veldt is red with yestreen's cruel slaughter There, far tram Bonny ScoUand. they must lie' Oh, there's mourning, 'numg the hills and on the heather. There's sorrow supped in mony a str«th and glen For the gallant hearts that sleep the long, last sleep together. Forr the lads who shall ne'er see home again ! "Dule and Wae," the bagpipea moaned, "for the fatal night and order Sent the lads into the deadly ambushed line," But they fought and fell, unflinching, on the sun-baked Afric border As their fathers did on Flodden field,— langsyne ! " Steady, men !" the leader shouted, as the storm of bullets, flying Rained down, sudden, from the blazing mouth of hell- n POEMS AMD SONGS Then, 'mid the (imHy hillocks, their brave Qenerml lay dying. With hla men around him, flghtlng, aa they tell ! Oh,— theree mourning, 'mang the hllla and on the heather,— There's sorrow supped In mony a strath and glen. For the gallant hearts that sleep the long last sleep together.— For the lads who ahall ne'er see home again ! Bravely charged the " Light Brigade," through Death's valley, dark and gory. And there's mony a British trophy of renown. But there's nane among them touched, with a more pathetic story Than the tartans that so gallantly went down ! Oh— faithful on to death— they guarded Britain's flag and honor, 'Mid their ancient foemen, flghtlng, side by side, Though far from Bonny Scotland, their last thought was upon her, Let them reat In peace together, where they died ! Oh there's mourning 'mang the hills and on the heather. There's sorrow supped in mony a etrath and glen,— For the gallant hearts that sleep the long last sleep together,— For those who shall ne'er see home again ! Miss Agnees Maule Machar, (Author of "Lays of the True North.") THE HIGHLAND BRIGADE AT MAGBRSFONTEIN. Hats off, and a cheer for the Highland Brigade, That march'd to iU fate like a awpa on parade! With plaids flung back, and the blue steel gleaming. And shrill in the atarllght the war-pipe screaming! Would ye know how the records of heroes are made ? Oome listen this Ulo of the Higland Brigade. The General gazed with a troubled eye On the scowling ramparts, grim and high; • The way will be rough, and the flghtlng hot, I needs must call on the doughty Scot,' And forth at the word, all undismay'd, ^Vlth a skirl o' the pipes went the Highland Brigade. ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. 73 Proud children of Albyn I 'tWM •rw- tim aam*. Too weik have ye itald for jrour nuOchleM fam* \ Mwt Death in hU starkest ehape be defied r ^ Or a well nlsh hopeleee task be triad ? Whereon can the army's teniet be stayed If not on the might of the Highland Brigade T But this waa a deed of derring do, Too hopeless even for such as you ! Por the moonUin belch'd forth shot and shell. And smok'd and flam'd like the mouth ot Hell: And caught In the murderous ambuscade WM* their chief 1' the midst, fell the Highland Brigade ! Wev not, sad hearts or the SoottUh shore. That wait for the lads who will come no more: Man dies gut once,— and your dear ones fell On the battlefield they grac'd so w^l ; True to the annals of name and olan. As their sires have fWl'n since the world began. With their hand on the steel, and their face to the foe, And the God of battles to see them go ! And long will their memory's dues be paid, A cheer, and a tear, for the Highland Brigade ! if Robert Reld, Montreal. 'il A TALE OF TWO CENTURI1». Bamtoga, 1777— Fraser. The virgin hills are clad In their mlmeval beauty, No son of toil and care Had ever wooed and won The maiden earth Of aaratoga. H 74 I>0£lf8 AMD HONGS T«t In bar w«lling hMirt Ar« bubbliac ■prtaca Of hMling ■ympathy, ^r all wbo com* In UMd o( raat To SanUosa. Ill i The flm of hhi white race,* A wounded aoldier, Seeka reet ; and In thla place Of quiet aolitude. In Saratoga. The murmuring spring Now low, aweet aonga a. ,^..,. ^° Saratoga. • Sir William Johnson, Bart. ON THE SOUTH AFRICAN WAR. 7ft T^« quiok tnlMd ajr* Of th« Omi««1 waniMd The endangared traopa Of th« oMitnU band ; Mountad oo ataad of gray, WalYtng all warning. From right wing to centra He apurred on bia war, AnimaUng tba troopa Firing round blm In F -una Hla manly form waa aoon on- )neo, " A boat in blmaelf." G«nf ,l vn. ,.d . r\ " Tba* Engllah 0«i«al ; ! ,^ ,^ ,>,, u " Take poat and do jroo-. du., In Sa. 1 (•,'h. Tba markaman aimed From amboaeada. And Fraaer fall ; Doing bU doty, Not wlaaly, but too wall, lis. In Saratoga. Thay buriad bim in his lorad ,redoubt, In front of the Bngliab camp. Wbila tba cbaplain prayad, Tha Iron rainad. Dnat eloud, like incenae. Roaa from bia grava, At airaning aacriiloe, In Saratoga. % The cloaing day, like a deaAh pall, fell On tbe (wen grave of him they loTed well ; Bacb manli^ face a atudy. Tbe hoatile batteriea oeaaed. Wbile tbe minute guna Caught up the nefirain In honour of Scotland's aon Who waa alaln At Saratoga. I Jl ill I n l\>KMM AND SC)N(W A oraitury— flown On hundrtd wlngwl raan, or intermingled huM, or ATer ohanginc light and liuule. lAkm panoramic picture. Such !■ our life. The ehade of strife recedes And hearte well out la —ding etreama of aympatby O'er gravoa In Saratoga. Magerafonteln. 1»00— Wauohope. In the buih of tb« night, When the world was at reat, Not a sound wa* heard But tJie throbbing breaat And the atealthy atep Of the Highland Brigade ; Uke lion crouching Through Ungled maie At Magerafonteln. Our noble men were led blindly on, But their heads were high. And their hearts were strong, Till the fatol rifle The traitor played. And at flash of the search light Their brave faces paled- Only a moment At Magerafonteln. " Steady, men ! Steady " Waa Wauchope's shout. While a thousand rifles Crashed round about. As the pride of the army lay dying. The wounded chief with his falling ureath Died like a Scot cheering on to the death In the valley At Magerafontsia. ON 'fllK HOI Til AFHICAN WAR. n Onward to death The Dlaik Watch charged, Like a bear of her whclpe beinf cheated ; While Swifortha «nd Oordona With rinfflng rell, Shook the frownlDg hill. Which no nortal will Bhotild dare ever encounter At Magerafanteln. As the sun went down. On the Bleeping Laird, Kach Highland heart In hia grave waa laid ; For to them " Lochaber'a no nore " At Magerafonteln. Hie fifty men In the plalda Of their clan, Keep vigil aa guarda behind Im. Aa he led them In life. He la foremoat in death With the enemy'a oamp Frowning o'er him At Magerafonteia. Softly the ahade of twilight fell On the funeral band Of the silent men, But each heart a vow had Uken By the red Jtunpant Hon. Which floata o'er our land We will aoon be avenged For the flower of our bend Who were ulaln At Magerafonteln. A victory we've gained. Not with aworda stained In blood Of our armies, dying red The green flelda and brown wood. And vulture awooping oer them ! In friendahlp's light Our hearU re-unlta O'er two gravat On Modder and Saratogs. -.jAb''d..Ji-.(TK,' 78 POEMS AND SONGS While the Union >^ag And Stan and Stripes unite. In the tender love of the dying, And tue soft fair hand Of the Bister band Smoothes the pillows of slater nations. May the perfume of love Rise to heaven like the dove From the altar of incense undying In Saratoga and Magenf ontcln. Mrs. Letltia McGord, Temple Orove, Montreal. THE HIGHLANDERS' CHARGB AT MAOERSFONTBIN. In the midst at smoke And thunder. From the hidden trenches under, Cwnes a flashing and a crashing, then a smothered human groan ; And the Scottish plaids are sinking. Sinking low, but never shrinking. Though the air is thick with leaden death and dying moan. Now a v