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Our God and soldiers we alike adore ev'n at the brink of danger; not before: After deliverance, both alike requited, read more
Our God and soldiers we alike adore ev'n at the brink of danger; not before: After deliverance, both alike requited, Our God's forgotten, and our soldiers slighted
For the army is a school in which the miser becomes generous, and
the generous prodigal; miserly soldiers are read more
For the army is a school in which the miser becomes generous, and
the generous prodigal; miserly soldiers are like monsters, but
very rarely seen.
God and a soldier all people adore
In time of war, but not before;
And when war read more
God and a soldier all people adore
In time of war, but not before;
And when war is over and all things are righted,
God is neglected and an old soldier slighted.
Our God and soldier we alike adore - Just at the brink of ruin not before - The danger past, read more
Our God and soldier we alike adore - Just at the brink of ruin not before - The danger past, both are alike requited; God is forgotten and the soldier slighted
"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."
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.
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.
O Dormer, how can I behold thy fate,
And not the wonders of thy youth relate;
How read more
O Dormer, how can I behold thy fate,
And not the wonders of thy youth relate;
How can I see the gay, the brave, the young,
Fall in the cloud of war, and lie unsung!
In joys of conquest he resigns his breath,
And, filled with England's glory, smiles in death.
An Austrian army awfully arrayed.
An Austrian army awfully arrayed.