The Grenadier's Good-Bye

"When Lieutenant Murray fell, the only words he spoke were,
'Forward, Grenadiers!'"---Press Telegram.

Here they halted, here once more
    Hand from hand was rent;
Here his voice above the roar
    Rang, and on they went.
Yonder out of sight they crossed,
    Yonder died the cheers;
One word lives where all is lost---
    "Forward, Grenadiers!"

This alone he asked of fame,
    This alone of pride;
Still with this he faced the flame,
    Answered Death, and died.
Crest of battle sunward tossed,
    Song of the marching years,
This shall live though all be lost---
    "Forward, Grenadiers!"

Henry John Newbolt

Sir Henry John Newbolt was an English poet and author, famous for his ballads such as 'Vitaï Lampada'. He graduated from Oxford and was called to the bar, but he is better remembered for his literary contributions than his legal career. Newbolt served as a government advisor on military and naval literature during World War I. He was knighted in 1915 for his services to literature. Newbolt's work often reflected themes of patriotism and duty.

Henry John Newbolt

For A Trafalgar Cenotaph

Henry John Newbolt, Simple Poetry

The Gay Gordons

Henry John Newbolt, Simple Poetry

San Stefano. A Ballad of the Bold Menelaus

Henry John Newbolt, Simple Poetry

Admirals All

Henry John Newbolt, Simple Poetry

English

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The Dying Veteran

All-day-long the crash of cannon
Shook the battle-covered plain;
All-day-long the frenzied foemen
Dashed against our lines in vain;
All the field was piled with slaughter;
Now the lurid setting sun
Saw our foes in wild disorder,
And the bloody day was won.

Foremost on our line of battle
All-day-long a veteran stood
Stalwart, brawny, grim and steady,
Black with powder, smeared with blood;
Never flinched and never faltered
In the deadliest storm of lead,
And before his steady rifle
Lay a score of foemen dead.

Never flinched and never faltered
Till our shout of victory rose,
Till he saw defeat, disaster,
Overwhelmed our flying foes;
Then he trembled, then he tottered,
Gasped for breath and dropped his gun,
Staggered from ...

Hanford Lennox Gordon

Killed In Action

RUPERT is dead, and RUPERT was my friend;
"Only surviving son of" - so it ran -
"Beloved husband" and the rest of it.
But six months back I saw him full of life,
Ardent for fighting; now he lies at ease
In some obscure but splendid field of France,
His strivings over and his conflicts done.
He was a fellow of most joyous moods
And quaint contrivings, ever on the point
Of shaking fame and fortune by the hand
But always baulked of meeting them at last.
He could not brook - and always so declared -
The weak pomposities of little men,
Scorned all the tin-gods of our petty world,
And plunged headlong into imprudences,
And smashed conventions with a reckless zeal,
Holding his luck and not himself to blame
For aught that might betide when reckoning came.
Bu...

R. C. Lehmann

Ode for Trafalgar Day, 1905

"Partial firing continued until 4.30, when a victory having been reported to the Right Honourable Lord Viscount Nelson, K.B., and Commander-in-Chief, he then died of his wound."--Log of the Victory, October 21, 1805.


    England! to-day let fire be in thine eyes
        And in thy heart the throb of leaping guns;
    Crown in thy streets the deed that never dies,
        And tell their fathers' fame to all thy sons!
    Behold! behold! on that unchanging sea
        Where day behind Trafalgar rises pale,
            How dread the storm to be
            Drifts up with ominous breath
        Cloud after towering cloud of billowy sail
            Full charged with thunder and the bolts of death.

    Yet when the noon is past, and thy delight,
        More d...

Henry John Newbolt

The Schoolfellow

Our game was his but yesteryear;
    We wished him back; we could not know
The self-same hour we missed him here
    He led the line that broke the foe.

Blood-red behind our guarded posts
    Sank as of old and dying day;
The battle ceased; the mingled hosts
    Weary and cheery went their way:

"To-morrow well may bring," we said,
    "As fair a fight, as clear a sun."
Dear lad, before the world was sped,
    For evermore thy goal was won.

Henry John Newbolt

Only A Private Killed

"We've had a brush," the Captain said,
"And Rebel blood we've spilled;
We came off victors with the loss
Of only a private killed."
"Ah," said the orderly "it was hot,"
Then he breathed a heavy breath
"Poor fellow! he was badly shot,
Then bayoneted to death."

And now was hushed the martial din;
The saucy foe had fled;
They brought the private's body in;
I went to see the dead;
For I could not think our Rebel foes
So valiant in the van
So boastful of their chivalry
Could kill a wounded man.

A musket ball had pierced his thigh
A frightful, crushing wound
And then with savage bayonets
They pinned him to the ground.
One deadly thrust drove through the heart,
Another through the head;
Three times they stabbed his pul...

Hanford Lennox Gordon

Marshal Ney's Farewell.

Adieu to France! Land of the Brave, farewell!
Sleep sweetly there, thy sons will watch by thee,
High as thy hills their burning blood will swell,
To leave thee as they find thee, fair and free.
The nations gaze and tremble at thy spell,
A vision of eternal Liberty,
Emerging from a swift and bloody birth,
The terror, wonder, glory of the earth.

Yet, France, farewell! One son may find his grave
Beneath thy soil, and leave thee marching still,
Napoleon with his millions of the brave,
Along the paths of glory, at thy will.
Soldiers, farewell! And when your banners wave
Above my bones beside some nameless hill,
Stop not the thunder of your glorious tread,
To mark me sleeping with th' inglorious dead.

And farewell, Foes! Brave hearts and grand of soul;

A. H. Laidlaw