He stands erect; his slouch becomes a walk;
He steps right onward, martial in his air,
His read more

He stands erect; his slouch becomes a walk;
He steps right onward, martial in his air,
His form and movement.

"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.

Ay me! what perils do environ
The man that meddles with cold iron!

Ay me! what perils do environ
The man that meddles with cold iron!

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.

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 soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was a lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of read more

A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was a lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears; But a comrade stood beside him, while his lifeblood ebbed away

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.

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."