"I can not quite remember.

There were five

Dropped dead beside me in the trench-and three

Whispered their dying messages to me.

“Their friends are waiting, wondering how they thrive— Waiting a word in silence patiently.

But what they said, or who their friends may be

Dropped dead beside me in the trench-and three
Whispered their dying messages to me.

-WILFRID WILSON GIBSON.

HANDS ALL ROUND

[First appeared in the London Examiner, February 7, 1852.]

Gigantic daughter of the West,

We drink to thee across the flood,
We know thee most, we love thee best,
For art thou not of British blood?
Should war's mad blast again be blown,
Permit not thou the tyrant powers
To fight thy mother here alone,

But let thy broadsides roar with ours.
Hands all round!

God the tyrant's cause confound!

To our great kinsmen of the West, my friends,
And the great name of England, round and round.

O rise, our strong Atlantic sons,

When war against our freedom springs! O speak to Europe through your guns!

They can be understood by kings.
You must not mix our Queen with those
That wish to keep their people fools;
Our freedom's foemen are her foes,
She comprehends the race she rules.
Hands all round!

God the tyrant's cause confound!

To our dear kinsmen of the West, my friends,
And the great cause of Freedom, round and round.
-ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON.

66

WHEN THERE IS PEACE”

"When there is Peace, this land no more
Will be the land we knew of yore."

Thus do the facile seers foretell
The truth that none can buy or sell
And e'en the wisest must ignore.

When we have bled at every pore,
Shall we still strive for gear and store?
Will it be Heaven, will it be Hell,
When there is Peace?

This let us pray for this implore—
That, all base dreams thrust out at door,
We may in nobler aims excel,

And, like men waking from a spell,
Grow stronger, worthier than before,
When there is Peace!

-AUSTIN DOBSON.

EXPEDITIONAL

Troops to our England true
Faring to Flanders,

God be with all of you

And your commanders.

Clear be the sky o'erhead,
Light be the landing:
Not till the work is sped
Be your disbanding.

On the old battle-ground
Where fought your fathers,
Faithful shall ye be found
When the storm gathers.

Fending a little friend

Weak but unshaken

Quick! there's no time to spend Or the fort's taken.

Tho he defy his foes,
He may go under.

Quick! ere the battle close

Speed with your thunder.

He hath his all at stake:

More can have no man. Quick! ere the barrier break On to the foeman.

Troops to this England true
And your commanders,

God be with all of you

Fighting in Flanders.

-C. W. BRodribb.

THE MOBILIZATION IN BRITTANY

It was silent in the street.

I

I did not know until a woman told me,
Sobbing over the muslin she sold me.
Then I went out and walked to the square
And saw a few dazed people standing there.

And then the drums beat, the drums beat!
O then the drums beat!

And hurrying, stumbling through the street
Came the hurrying stumbling feet.

OI have heard the drums beat

For war!

I have heard the townsfolk come,

I have heard the roll and thunder of the nearest drum

As the drummer stopped and cried, "Hear!

Be strong! The summons comes! Prepare!"

Closing he prayed us to be calm

And there was calm in my heart of the desert, of the

dead sea,

Of vast plains of the West before the coming storm,

And there was calm in their eyes like the last calm that

shall be.

And then the drum beat,

The fatal drum beat,

And the drummer marched through the street

And down to another square,

And the drummer above took up the beat
And sent it onward where

Huddled, we stood and heard the drums roll,
And then a bell began to toll.

OI have heard the thunder of drums
Crashing into simple poor homes.

I have heard the drums roll "Farewell!"
I have heard the tolling cathedral bell.
Will it ever peal again?

Shall I ever smile or feel again?
What was joy? What was pain?

For I have heard the drums beat,

I have seen the drummer striding from street to street, Crying, "Be strong! Hear what I must tell!"

While the drums roared and rolled and beat

For war!

II

Last night the men of this region were leaving. Now they are far.

Rough and strong they are, proud and gay they are. So this is the way of war

The train was full and we all shouted as it pulled away. They sang an old war-song, they were true to themselves, they were gay!

We might have thought they were going for a holiday