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P R E F A C E

1 m m apologi z e for the si z e of this booklet,

verse, so as to make a single

Comm

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Bnt eticking it . eticidng it yot.

Nem a meeeege of hope,

With thc dull , dcad plain in our rear

t n oa orpom l shoutcd Stand to i

And I hear some one cry ,

“Cleu the front

for the Guards i”

And the ds came through.

pm'

ched and hot .

But , Lord l if yon’

d heard the cheer,

TH E GUARD S CAM E TH ROUGH xx

D ressing as stm ight as a hcm .

l

Praying for us and for them ,

Lord i I could speak for aweek ,

Such feel in’

s don ’t come to you

But how can mc or my mates forget

How the Goards came through ?

Fivc yards left extend i”

I t passed from rank to rank,

And a touch of tt ondon ewank.

VICTRI !

tedon hct blnnclosedhandH ot-strong

E ngland.wel l withall wasAnd

3

AM

THOSE OTHE RS

I n thefirst wi ld spate of theGerman flood,

Gunners who fel l in Battery L ,

fell .

Outmmmed,outgunned and scant of shel l ,

On thc deadl y curve of the Yprw hel l ,

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ta THOSE OTH ERS

Of thc dear dead boys, whose

bought

To us who l ived to w'

m.

iBut as the shadows fall l see

R ifleman , Highlander, Fusi l ier ,

R ank upon rank and l ine on l ine.

With sm i l ing lipe and eyee that shine,

AUGUST 1 91 8

Hopes in speeches , fears in papers,

Haig is moving !

H aig ismoving i

All theweary idle phrases,

moving, he

Straining, yearning, for the vision

Of the doom and the decision

Haig is moving !

H aig is moving l

Haig is moving 1

isseiz i ng.

i Howsfil l l H owdeathly sti ll i And yct the

stir.

Some far-oh tln'

obhing like amumed drum ,

T0 play the last funereal march of some

33

I n all God’

s eerth thcre is no gentler scene,

And the long droning of the questing bee,

Darkens to plains of misery and death,

And, looking past the rosee . l see there

Of al l things foul and black. My heart is

hot

Within me as l view i t , and l cry,

Better the m isery of these men ’

s lot

Than al l thepeace that comes to such as l l

\‘

Q

‘

ea

And sm nge thet in the panece ofvthc eonnd

rom ,

And then their mother cel ls, and al l around

But ati ll l gu e ah rmnd at thc sight

fight,

Ah, tnrn in mercy to our lads out thcrc l

wrath,

And on '

them is the jndgment as of old.

But if they wandered from the hallowed

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YPRES

Sat-Tam e, 1 91 5

See where t he lure of Ypres cal ls you i

There’s just one

Plumer’

s weary men ;

It’s true they held you off before, but venture

Wee it in October leet i m' wea it in

Stil l star ing at the in the

distance.

on the iamcus Calais

YPRBS 39

T ill Calais heerd the blaring ot the distant

“Wecht am Rhein,

”

Said the Gu i von Fetter-Essen , It’

e a fact

beyond dhcuesion ,

There is velour in the French, there is

patience in the Russian ,

the lordly Prussian ,

And the British, cried another , they

Degenerate and drunken ; if the d i liars chink

30 YPRE S

T is the only sort of music that will cal l them

And al l the bristle-headed cried , Ja

wohl I

And so nex t day your battle rol led across the

Menin P lain ,

Where Capper ’s men stood lonely to your

wrath.

broke him al l in vain ,

in the sun ,

When Von Deim ling stormed so hotly in

YPRE S 3!

You sm iled as Haig reeled backwards and

you thought him on the run ,

B ut alas for dreams that vanish, for before

the day was done

It was you , my Lord ofWiirtemberg, that

When theGuard from Arras led your fierce

Spruce and splendid in the morning were the

But not so spruce that evening when they

the ranks were scant and thin ,

few,

By all Bernhardi ’s maxims you were surely

There’s the open town before you. Haste,

‘Or theWar-Lord may have telegrams for

was ever dearer ,

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34 YPRE S l i,

That the bugles of theWar-Lord musterin ,

Each in turn you tried them , but the story

Play i t how you would, my Lord, you never

won the game,

A year , my L ord ofWi irtemberg—a year, or

nearly so,

Since first you faced the British vi s-d-m'

s i

Your learned“

Comm andanten are the men

YPRE S 33

If you cannot straf the British, since they

so near ,

to rear !

Fai r Ypres was a rel ic of the soul of other

days,

A poet’s dream , a wanderer’

s del ight,

We wil l keep i t as a symbol of your brute

At this token of your impotence and spite.

36 w ees

For shame, my 1 .ord ofWilrtemberg lthe Flemish Fen "

I t'

sjust the old fam il iar l ineoi fifty thousand

men .

twice, my

i Come, try your luck, whatever fate befalls

GROUSING

The army ewore terribly in Flandu e.

D am l D am l Dam i

I don ’t mind cold, I don’t m ind heat.

Over the top for a Sunday treat .

But I want my grub, and where in hell

Is the jam ?

t t does the ofi cer say ?

Dam l D am l Dam l

Mud and mhery, fiies and stench,

Pissin’

it here in a beastly trench,

37

33 630USI NG

But what l mean , by jove, you see,

I like mymen and they don’

t mind me,

So, on the whole, l'

d rather be

Where l am.

They told me, when the war began ,

But ,W 1 i t’

s straight ahead,

D am l Dam l D am l

Théy tax mc here, they tait me thcre,

GROUSI NG

Bread is dear and the cupboard

I’

m bound to grouse, but i i it’

s the wsy

To win thewar,

39

Tun dreams ane pessed and gonem ld man ,

That came to you and me,

Ot a six days’ stunt on an east coast front,

Four years, my lad, and five months more,

Though Fol low the drum is a bi t too

grand ,

I t was just the whistles of Nature’

s band

That heartened us up the hills.

40

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4s

Jtnt dril l and march and drill agein ,

And swot at the old parsde.

Not bad for the old brigade !

On the chance of that east coast fight‘

;

They may have been old and stiff and lame,3

But , by George, their hearts were right !

D iscipl ine ! My !“Eyes

cri ed,

As we passed the drill hal l door ,

And sol id ! Why , after a real wet bout

I n a hole in the Flanders mud,

It would puz z le the Boche to fetch usout ,

For we couldn ’t get out if we would !

But a chap can only do his best ,

And ofler al l he'

s got .

Fall out , the guard ! The old home guard !

No grousing, even if it’

s hard

To break onr ranks l ike this.

We can ’t show much in the way of fun

one

Carry on , old Sport, carry on

Sem m a 1 91 8

A flapper giggles in the shade.

I t shines on khaki and on brass

Across its yellowslanting bearm

THE WREC! ON LOCI-I McGARRY

The mainland, skerries, and the islands,

I t stretches si lent as the tomb,

No eye can pierce their yellow gloom .

A grim hard-hsted son of luore.

‘

Bob Ainslie, late of London Town ,

Chatteti ng, rowdy , empty-headed

At sight of her the whae world smiled,

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A long mi le from the nearer shore

She’s sinking fast , and al l is‘

o’

er.

The yellow water , thick as pep,

I s crawfing, crawling to the thwarts,

And as they mark its upward lap,

I f dclivered from this ta ror l

How they shouted for asfi tence l

To the shcpherds in the distance!

As the waters kept encroaching l

Should be permanent as granite,

Oh, have mercy ! 0h, we’

re sinking !

m e wer e!: ON LQCH “06.412l 33

But a changewes in their featul es,

And that change has come to tarry,

Since thewreck of Loch McGarl-y.

Any tallr of bi lls or bul lion ,

Texts from Cyril or Tertul l ian.

As to Ainslie.he’

s not car ing

I n his lfie of others’

needs,

A nnrsing-home for invalids.

THE BIGOT

Thst gods mm t bc the same to all .

And outer races in the shade.

55

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I n those dark hal ls, enshadowfi ,

‘

vast,

They ditted em , sad and thin ,

Until they shed the taint of sin.

Enthroned in some dark jndgment l i all ,

And all the tortures of the pit !

T o us is left the higher thought

Of talking serpents and their ways,

Before the sun or moon wasmade l'

0 Bigotry, you crowning sin !

Al l evi l that a man can do

To play your smal l sectarian part ,

frorn sky to sky

And the littlc prairie hamlets where the cars

so m rins by.

stin to bo.

to sea.

“

Mother of a mighty manhood, land

glamour and of hope,

finne shan ioi l

l'

n he oet wlth poek ahd peeloer oo the

A thabasca T rai l.

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Fhld yoer footing sa you cen , bnt heep tbc

The‘

shlp is lhtirlg end swashA he boafi w

Only keep the n gtime phymg to theehd.

floor !

Play it as you played it when w‘

nh oeger feet

CH RI STM AS I N WAR TI M E

The first lspwas al l to the l-i un.

At the second we st il l sawhis back

But we knewhow towait and to spnrt down

Til l we left him dead-beat on the track.

H e’

s a bluffer for al l he is wor th,

But he'

swinded and done to thc core,

So the last lap ishere,with the tapeve'

ry neor ,

And the old colourswel l to the fore.

But chastened , thankfu l , cairn , sedate,

H om e go down the dingy lene.

But never a horee comee up egain.

The greasy yard where the red hidee lie

Wheet was sinklng yeer by year.I bonght things ch ap fi sold fi em deer

And awcary-hearted man was l .

And as l waiked in biack decpw,

I sawmy old bay hunter there.

70

L I ND I SI ’A I RE

H e tried to nnu le egalns'

t ry cheek.

H e lookcd the grlef he couiu not speak

My thoughts were set on stable rent.

On money saved a nd money spent,

On weekly bi l ls for forage lost,

And all the old bay huntcr cost.

For though a flier in the past ,

d cys of service long were par t

And l could find no use for him .

And sent for Wil l , my father's groom ,

Was like the fortune of our race.

Go , ride him to the knacker’

s

'

yard

He’

ll fetch two pounds, it may be three

I saw the old groom wince away,

H e looked the thoughts he dared not

A la ther pouch of'faded hue.

Master , said he, my means are sm all ,

But I have neither kith nor kin ,

If

l l pay your pace for Prince’

s skin .

My brother rents the Nether Farm ,

And hewi ll hold him safe from harm

And see the finish ofthisdays.

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I do nef plan to go.

This is so/f

The path is ronfi and blaékl

For I feel the hands that link

Of the Height.

If I droop upon my m ission ,

Tipped in flame.

On my head ,

On my brow thevanished l ips,

Is a floating vei l that sl ips,

Or is shed.

Son of m ine,

78 FA rs

Or incl ine

At the sign ?

Guide. I ask you sti l l ,

“Wherefore l i ”

That I try.

Take the to the fMi l t—and then .

0h, be nigh l

m ay H ana,Waleao 0 Vinny,“J ani ce and Ayicsbery.