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His breast with wounds unnumber'd riven,
His back to earth, his face to heaven.
His breast with wounds unnumber'd riven,
His back to earth, his face to heaven.
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest,
By all their country's wishes blest!
. . . read more
How sleep the brave, who sink to rest,
By all their country's wishes blest!
. . . .
By fairy hands their knell is rung,
By forms unseen their dirge is sung.
And he smote them hip and thigh with a great slaughter: and he
went down and dwelt in the read more
And he smote them hip and thigh with a great slaughter: and he
went down and dwelt in the top of the rock Etam.
An Austrian army awfully arrayed.
An Austrian army awfully arrayed.
O little Force that in your agony
Stood fast while England girt her armour on,
Held high read more
O little Force that in your agony
Stood fast while England girt her armour on,
Held high our honour in your wounded hands,
Carried our honour safe with bleeding feet--
We have no glory great enough for you,
The very soul of Britain keeps your day.
A thousand leagues of ocean, a company of kings,
You came across the watching world to show how heroes read more
A thousand leagues of ocean, a company of kings,
You came across the watching world to show how heroes die.
When the splendour of your story
Builds the halo of its glory,
'Twill belt the earth like Saturn's rings
And diadem the sky.
"I cannot bear it!" said the pewter soldier. "I have shed pewter
tears! It is too melancholy! Rather let read more
"I cannot bear it!" said the pewter soldier. "I have shed pewter
tears! It is too melancholy! Rather let me go to the wars and
lose arms and legs! It would at least be a change. I cannot
bear it longer! Now, I know what it is to have a visit from
one's old thoughts, with what they may bring with them! I have
had a visit from mine, and you may be sure it is no pleasant
thing in the end; I was at last about to jump down from the
drawers."
"Why me?" That is the soldier's first question, asked each morning as the patrols go out and each evening as read more
"Why me?" That is the soldier's first question, asked each morning as the patrols go out and each evening as the night settles around the foxholes.
Each year his mighty armies marched forth in gallant show,
Their enemies were targets, their bullets they were tow.
Each year his mighty armies marched forth in gallant show,
Their enemies were targets, their bullets they were tow.