Albert Durrani Watson
The bright immortal hosts bend from afar To whisper through the land in this great hour Their consecration, fortitude and power
Their warning lest we miss the morning star Beseeching, by the precious blood they shed : Break not your solemn compact with the dead!
��T
��THE BUGLE
HE Empire needs, in this dark day of slaughter, Great-hearted men, unawed by doom or dread ;
What valour have you shown, what service brought her To match the tribute of her glorious dead?
You who the loyal standard boldly flaunted While peace around you guarded like a wall,
What do you now when Freedom is blood-haunted, Do braggart words but make your deeds seem small?
When in the future days they tell the story Of how the brave, the hero-hearted died,
When Liberty is crowned with fadeless glory, Will you be standing honoured at her side
Because you ventured all nor sought a reason Why other men should die and you go free,
Because you held not back in coward treason
While comrades fought your fight on land and sea?
Amid the gallant ranks that did not waver
Before the blight that shook old Britain s shore,
Will you be one whose prowess helped to save her, Who went to war that war should be no more?
The troopship in the harbour rideth ready,
The tumult thickens. Hear the scornful word !
The foe is mocking. Lift the anchor steady ! High tide. The ship s away! Are you aboard?
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